"I'm not taking the soup."
Dedede stomped his foot. "What? Why not? You NEED the soup."
"I do not need the soup."
"You're sick; you need soup."
"You need medicine when you're sick, not soup. And sleep."
"Well you can sleep and take medicine and have the soup; you'll be all good!"
"No. I am going to sleep, and you are going to leave me alone."
"Me? The great king Dedede, leave one of my subjects alone?" The penguin guffawed. "How many years've you known me, Meta? You think I'm just gonna say 'okay yes sir' and walk off and stop bothering you?"
Meta Knight glared at him. Then he crossed his arms.
"No. Not really. You're right; you've got me. I don't know what else I was reasonably expecting from you."
"Well good, we've got that all sorted out, and you can take the soup."
"…No."
Dedede started cackling again, and Meta Knight could only sigh.
It was supposed to be a great day today. Visit the castle, straighten out paperwork, get some more tax money to build up the battleship Halberd a little more under the claim of military use for any potential invaders (only to use it on a new console for…definitely work-related purpose), take advantage of all the free food in the many castle kitchens that the king would never notice vanished, and go home to enjoy the mellow evening air at Orange Ocean in peace. And. Quiet. Meta Knight had fantastic plans for the evening, such as individually polishing each gun turret on the lower side of the ship, or mopping up that chocolate milkshake disaster in the kitchen. Heck, if he was motivated enough, he might even do some work and finish that custom turret design that his intergalactic clients wanted from him. He was incredibly skilled in weaponry and battleship design; they were paying him a considerable amount of money. Once he got home from the castle, there was nothing standing between him and eventually getting that sweet, sweet milksh—paycheck.
Until he woke up with a fever, lack of energy, and a pounding headache.
It wasn't fair. How could someone as antisocial as him catch a disease from other people? Logically, there was no explanation. Well, maybe there was. He did use the same kitchen as his sick crewmates. But still, it wasn't fair. Especially on the one day he had to go to the castle.
"Metaaaaaaaaaaa, stop ignoring me and take the SOUP!"
The alien puffball pushed the king's hand out of his face. "What is your obsession with the soup, great king?"
"It's good soup!" Dedede shrieked, annoyance written all over his face. "It's my secret family recipe! Everyone loves this soup. Even the soup atheists!"
"…'Soup atheists.' What do you—"
"PEOPLE WHO DON'T BELIEVE IN SOUP! LIKE YOU!"
"Great king, I am willing to eat virtually anything besides soup," Meta Knight huffed. "Call me what you will, but you cannot change that. I do not eat soup."
Dedede picked up the giant bowl of soup, grinning eerily. "…will you drink soup, then?"
"Disgusting. No. I will never drink soup."
"You will. Stubborn little Meta just needs a little more persuasion." Dedede picked up the bowl, dumping a quarter of it in his mouth. "Just you wait till I get my family's award-winning recipe. Your mind is gonna explode."
"It's gonna explode from your tyranny, not the soup."
"THIS SOUP WON INTERGALACTIC CONTESTS FOR GENERATIONS IN MY FAMILY; YOU SHALL NOT DISRESPECT IT," Dedede screeched. "Or so help me, the soup gods shall strike you down!"
Meta Knight rolled his eyes. "I'm already sick. How much further shall they strike me down."
"They're gonna!"
"Great king, I appreciate your offer to try your family's award-winning intergalactic soup nonsense, but do you not have aspirin, or painkiller, or any other medication in this castle?"
Dedede glared at him. "For you, no. I've got soup and a bed. Take it or leave it."
"I'll take the bed, and leave the soup. Thank you very much."
The penguin king pouted, but drank another giant mouthful of the soup before turning toward the doors of the throne room.
"Fine. Whatever. I know when to cut my losses in battle, Meta. That's a thing you really like, right?"
Meta Knight blinked, surprised. The king, giving up so easily? Perhaps he's finally learned that arguing with me is a losing battle. Yes, you intelligent, persistent creature, you can negotiate your way out of any situation. "Indeed. I assume that's the only miniscule bit of military strategy you remember from our discussion over last week's chess match?"
"I remember kicking your ass!" The penguin smirked. "That was some real strategy on my part, wasn't it?"
Meta Knight grimaced. "I went easy on you. We can have a rematch when I feel better. Significantly better."
"You know, you saying you went easy on me only works the first twenty times you say it. Now I think you're just being a sore loser to my brilliant, genius mastermind," Dedede said smugly.
"And how many times have you went easy on Kirby, might I ask?"
"Shut up!"
Meta Knight smirked under his mask as Dedede stormed out the throne room doors—then scurried to catch up. It was a long day, and he hadn't saved the energy to traipse around the castle with the king. Hopefully whatever guest room he was planning for him was close. Normally Meta Knight preferred the tower, but the sun had already set, and he'd been up since before dawn, and he just wanted to lay down and at the very least relax.
…He was lying to himself. He would really like to throw himself face-first into the first bed he came across, ASAP. With a nice cup of ice water. And some painkiller. Maybe some fever reducer with it. And no soup. Stars above, he did not want any soup. He wanted virtually any food besides soup at this point.
As if on cue, Dedede took another loud, drawn-out slurp of the soup.
It's all fine, Meta. You can lay down, pretend to fall asleep, let Dedede go away and leave you in peace and quiet, play some white noise, and then actually fall asleep, and leave in the morning with your nice research paycheck, and you can go home and upgrade your computer, and sleep for days. You just gotta… He yawned. Get to wherever Dedede's taking you. Stars, if it's the kitchen after all this, I am going to murder him.
…Or at least dump the soup on his feet.
"You're awfully quiet."
Meta Knight blinked a few times, reaching under his mask to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. He had a tendency to stare unblinkingly at people, but his eyes were drier and hurt more than usual today. Like they were burning, but only on the surface. If only he had— "You don't happen to have eye drops or any potions, do you, great king?"
"No." Dedede glanced over his shoulder at the knight, giving him an award-winning grin as he held up that stupid bowl of soup. "But I do have soup, and lemme tell you, that'll solve all your problems. One sip of that, and you'll—"
"Great king. I am not eating the soup. Or drinking it, for that matter."
"Oh, you will." The penguin king poured the rest of the soup into his mouth. "Ahhhhhhhh. You see, I just need to convert you. I'll make you a soup believer yet. Just you wait."
"I am waiting, great king."
"Good. You wait, and I'll get the soup, and we'll have a nice session of soup church, and you're gonna be so happy, you'll never wanna leave, because of the soup."
It was very convenient that the knight had a mask on. There was no way Dedede could know that his face wanted to laugh at that for some reason. Not a rational reason at all. It's not funny.
It's just not.
Dedede suddenly stopped in his tracks, kicking open a door to the side. Meta Knight couldn't help but notice that they were in a hallway approximately five doors down from what he was pretty confident was a main kitchen.
But he was tired, so he decided to ignore it for now. He was sure that his guess would be confirmed later with more pestilence and soup. But hey, you at least get that free food now. You just have to decide how to avoid the unwanted free soup that comes with it.
The room was simple. Meta Knight couldn't imagine what it was used for. An overnight room, but for who? It wasn't fancy enough to be for intergalactic guests. Not like we have many of those. Especially ones that are friendly and don't want to cause calamity. Those ones are hard to come by. There was a small bed that would fit most creatures in Dream Land, a small dresser, wardrobe, and maps of Popstar hung on the wall. As the knight took a few steps into the room, he also noticed there was a lush, purple carpet. Considering the rest of the décor was adorned with Dedede's typical red-blue-and-yellow cloth banners, he couldn't imagine how that happened, but it was a welcome addition to the room. Especially considering the castle was mainly built with stone, and the fever was throwing off his perception of temperature. A moment ago, the summer heat had felt unbearably crippling as he'd stumbled behind Dedede down the halls. Now that he had a room only a tad colder, it was unbearably frigid. Like he'd stepped into the kitchen that was hypothetically down the hall, and thrown himself into the freezer.
"I am grateful for the room, great king, but I can't help but notice the proximity of this room to the east hall kitchen. I am gravely concerned that—" The knight yawned; he couldn't help himself; he yawned in front of a king and Dedede was his friend but it was still so unknightly— "Excuse me, great king. I am merely concerned that your intentions to give me a place to rest are tainted with soup."
Meta Knight felt a glove slip beneath the top of his mask. His heart stopped for a moment, despite knowing it was the king meddling in his life, probably hoping to disarm him and pour soup in his mouth. Instead, the glove rested above his eyes for a bit, before withdrawing. Kinda nice, honestly. Those gloves have amazing material. They're even stainproof with attachments for—
"Meta, I would never do such a thing to a friend." The penguin held a hand over his heart, looking hurt. "I'm appalled that you think I would ambush one of my favorite advisors and coerce them into something they didn't wanna do. Does that sound like me at all?"
"Yes. Of course it does."
Dedede burst out laughing, cackling so loudly it echoed down the halls. "Ha! You got me! Of COURSE I'm gonna make you eat the soup, idiot! We just talked about this! Now you're runnin' a fever, so get your butt in bed, and let me break out the soup. I ain't lying when I say it'll solve allllll your problems, you hear me?"
Meta Knight climbed onto the bed, kicking off his boots as he left Dedede in what he really hoped was dramatic silence. Maybe the king would go away if he took half an eternity painstakingly polishing each speck of dust off his armor as he deposited it by the side of the bed. Dedede got bored quickly, so there was no way he'd—
"Metaaaaaaaaa you're getting the soup and you're going to bed, and then once you've tried just one teeny-tiny bite of the soup, I'll leave you alone; does that sound good?"
It did sound good. Too good to be true. "…you promise if I take a bite of this soup, you'll stop harassing me?"
"I swear on whatever honor is the highest I can swear!"
Well, Dedede doesn't swear too much…at least, swear on his honor…at least, swear on…other…honor…
The sickness must be impacting his thought process more than he thought, not only for his thoughts themselves, but also for even thinking of agreeing to Dedede's demands. And yet… "One bite. And then you will leave me alone, and I'll go to sleep, and you will give me my paycheck, and close the door, and I will rise in the morning and leave with no soup. Do we have a deal?"
Dedede grinned so wide that his smile stretched across his entire face. "Deal. Now lemme get that soup before you fall asleep and don't drink it. Like a loser."
Meta Knight tried to think of a scathing retort or sarcastic comment, but his tired mind failed him once again as the door slammed, the king's heavy footsteps echoing as he ran down the hall to make his galaxy-famous, award-winning, legendary soup.
This soup better be worth the hype.
He was alone now, though. Peace, and a good amount of quiet. The knight quickly ditched the rest of his armor, pulling the covers around him until he'd wrapped himself in a bundle. There was only a small night light in the room, but any light at all was scorching his eyes. Only complete darkness could help him. The puffball pulled the last blanket over his face, sighing in relief when the last bit of light was banished from his view. Total darkness. What a relief. Any longer, and I'd be using that soup as eye drops.
As he was settling in, his burning eyes drifting closed, his even breaths only slightly disturbed by the blanket pulled over his face, Meta Knight couldn't help but let himself relax, easing into the soft, plush blankets as the tension faded from his muscles. There was no stress, no obligations, no stack of emails and paperwork waiting for him at the Halberd. No training session tomorrow morning. No awkward scenario where Mace Knight tried his best to make omelet waffles for the fifth time and everyone would eat his failures to make him feel better, only to feel sick later. No. He may be at Dedede's mercy, but at least he was far, far away from everything that—
The door creaked. Dedede stepped back into the room. Meta Knight pulled yet another blanket over his eyes, preparing for the worst. "Hey Meta? You doin' okay still?"
What does he think… "Yes…I'm…" He yawned again. In front of the king, again. But he couldn't bring himself to care with his headache kicking back in. If only Dedede was preparing him painkiller instead of soup; it might solve the slow, throbbing ache spreading above his burning eyes. "Dedede, leave me alone. I want sleep. I've been awake since 4AM with this cold, and you're dragging out my misery. Where is the soup; I want to sleep."
Please, just let the soup end all this.
Meta Knight heard the king approaching the bed, before a loud thump shook the furniture next to his bed. The puffball braced his eyes for the king to pull the blanket off his face; he knew that—
Feathers. Feathers, slowly moving back and forth right where his head was pounding. His body was so cold all of a sudden, the warmth was welcome as it radiated into him. He felt compelled to say something. The king of Dream Land is basically giving a head massage to one of his subjects. Well, we're all heads to him, I guess…but—gratitude. Thankfulness. This is probably…an honor somewhere…and…
"The soup's gotta cook for a while to get maximum flavor," Dedede murmured. "I got some Dees watching it. You should get some sleep. There's some sparkling herbs in here to help with the air and keepin' your head clear."
Say…you're grateful…! Express gratitude…do…something…
Feathers were soft. The tension in his head was fading away, the repetitive motions lulling him off to sleep. It was what he'd wanted, but…despite all his adventures with the king, and all the times they'd helped each other…It's…it must be…I can't accept help from…nobility…
"Getting sick is trash, Meta. I been there. You feel like garbage, and your body feels like you just wanna flop over and die, and your head hurts like hell. You gotta lay down, and get some rest, and eat some soup, and after you've done all that, you get your health back up—with even more soup—and take it easy. Okay? You can stay the night and however long you need."
He really didn't want to fall asleep now. He really didn't. He didn't say thank-you or anything, to a king, but the blankets had warmed up, and the darkness was so welcoming, his body tingling numbly as he slowly lost feeling of everything except the warmth and Dedede's hand on his forehead. Even his wings relaxed as his mind relinquished control of his body, comforting black closing in around him and the feathers he could still vaguely sense at the edge of his consciousness, still moving in circles.
"Get some sleep, Meta. You need it."
There was nothing but sweet, blissful darkness.
Dedede felt the knight relax under his hand, hoping that he'd finally fallen asleep. His breath had a bit of a wheeze in it, but other than that, he seemed to be comfortable—well, as comfortable as one could be with a cold. Or a flu. It was some sickness; Dedede wasn't a pro at medicine. He was a pro at soup.
You're gonna love the soup. Just you wait Meta, that soup is gonna solve everything.
The king was tempted to check the kitchen, if not to get the soup that he knew wouldn't be done, to at least get a snack or sub sandwich to hold him over. The soup was mostly for Meta anyway; he knew the knight would eat it after trying a bite. And then they were gonna eat soup and sandwiches, and sit in bed with fluffy nightcaps, and watch Dedede's favorite TV drama. Who knew someone getting sick could be so convenient? His whole weekend got turned into a hangout without him even having to harass the knight to stay over. As long as no one invaded the planet again, everything would be great and soupy.
Don't say things like that. Those are the kind of things you say and then someone shows up and invades the planet.
It was fine though. He had a knight and a Dee army and plenty of others; this time they'd be prepared! Well, maybe not as prepared, with Meta sick. But we'll still kick butt. That's what we're good at.
And soup. I am amazing at soup. I am the best soup connoisseur in the galaxy. Maybe even the universe. Three more hours Meta, just you wait. That soup is gonna blow your mind.
The king could hear soft whistling sounds from under the blanket. Weird alien puffballs don't snore like a normal person. It's still weird. It's good he's sleeping though, right? That'll help. That and the soup. Meta really needs the soup. The king withdrew his hand from the blankets ever-so-slow, trying not to disturb his friend now that he was asleep. The room was set up well–it had to be, he'd personally helped design it. Banners everywhere to help with the sound echoing off the stone, a humidifier, nice herb pots on top of the wardrobe…You have great interior decorating skills, Dedede. Your talents are truly versatile and unmatched.
That rug was useful too. It had been a spare he'd thrown in without reason, but it allowed him to quietly tiptoe away under the cover of rug-induced silence. Dedede slipped out the door–as well as a giant penguin could slip out a door almost exactly his height–giving a final glance to the room to ensure everything was in place. The knight was still fast asleep, the humidifier was glowing pale blue, and the surrounding area was suspiciously quiet, considering Castle Dedede's normal chaos. It's all good though. It's gonna be quiet, and it's gonna stay quiet. And there's gonna be soup.
Just you wait, Meta. Good friends and good soup. That's all you need in life.
Dedede tiptoed suspiciously away to the kitchen. They were friends, and he had the soup. There was no way Meta Knight wouldn't recover within an hour, with all that soup. He would make sure of it.
C/N: So much for "not writing Kirby anymore." My good friend CelticQuailKnight paid me behind my back as I was bragging about writing sickfics, and I have honor, so two years later I wrote this sickfic. I have not read any sickfics in three years, nor have I written anything Kirby-related since my last upload. I'd like to thank CelestiaKnight for proofreading this, Celtic for forcing me to write this for old times' sake, my cat for eating Dedede's soup before he could present it and ruin my nice cliche ending, and y'all for reading. Have a great night :D