Opening Act

by CountingWithTurkeys

Redemption and recovery may come at a steep cost, but the Rehearsal is over and it's time for Bonnibel and Marceline to decide if the price is one they're willing to pay.

23. Fork in the Road

Real Talk: Still here, guys! As my Tumblr followers know, I'm on a mission to branch out in my writing abilities. As I result, when we reach 130 followers (three more to go!) I'll be doing a writing-request contest where the winner gets to pick a story request or prompt. More details can be found on .com, so come help me grow as a writer!

Content Warnings:

Finn and Jake are back!

Blatant Llamas with Hats reference

Yes, that's a reference to Showstopper

Hurt and Comfort

Pranks

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The first time it happened BMO thought a pizza driver had gotten lost. The second time it happened Finn thought it was the world's most lame-o prank. The third time it happened Jake knew there was only one explanation.

"Ghosts," Finn deadpanned, disbelieving.

Jake, wide-eyed and frenetic, nodded vigorously as he reached for another wooden plank. "Ghosts, bro. It's the only explanation. They got robbed of munching on our mindmeats 'cause of Marce, and now they're back to finish the job! Just like that tree witch said!"

Finn returned his brother's expression with a slow, cautious nod of his own. When the dog reached for his hammer and his bucket-o-nails, the boy gently tugged the plank away, out of his reach. "Look, I'm pretty sure that whatevs happening here isn't-"

Jake yanked the board free of his brother's grasp, squinting his disgruntlement. "That's just what they want you to think! I'm on to them! I know my rights!"

Finn sighed, resting his forehead in his hand. This had been the better part of his day, and when night fell it had only gotten worse. Sure, the day had started off reasonable enough. Bacon pancakes in the morning, video games with BMO in the afternoon, sparring practice somewhere in the middle. A perfectly normal, average day. At least until the night fell, when Jake had been preparing to spend the evening with Lady, just as he did every week. The brothers had returned home from their favorite sparring location - or what was left of it, given that most of the Grasslands had been incinerated by some force that may or may not have been Marceline, no judgement though - Jake had packed his bags, but by the time he had meandered back to the living room he had found his viola missing. With suspicion in his heart he had reminded his brother that his weekly evening-stay with Lady was a sacred and righteous thing, but Finn had only arched an eyebrow, shook his head, and claimed all forms of innocence he could imagine.

The brothers had torn their house apart, partly figuratively, partly literally, all desperately. They had checked the freezer while Jake scathingly reminded the human that the dry, cold air was absolute murder on wooden instruments and totally unfair to the delicious ice cream that was all snug and comfy, but no dice. Finn pulled his bed apart, his brother unwilling to risk scarring himself mentally on whatever objects lurked within because, hey, he was young once too, he understood. They had checked the bookshelf, the watchtower, everywhere a viola could possibly wander off to.

When they heard the disgruntled yelling of a perturbed Shelby the mystery was solved and the viola was located in the bathroom, unharmed, set beside a large and still-warm pizza that none of the house's occupants remembered buying but eagerly devoured. After all, what could be suspicious about a pizza, the most innocent of all foods? Absolutely nothing. "Perhaps the pizza delivery person got lost and left the pizza where he knew we all hope to go one day?," BMO posited.

Finn arched an eyebrow. "The bathroom?"

"I often dream of the next time I will go to the bathroom," BMO nodded. "It is a happy place!"

Jake had only shrugged his agreement, dual-wielding pizza slices. Funny the curative properties of pizza, able to soothe even the savage beast and his lust for vengeance over the disrespect his beloved instrument had been shown.

"Bathrooms do rock, I guess?"

"You guess?!" Jake shook his head sadly, wondering where he went wrong. "It's got it all, Finn. You'll understand one day, when you're all grown up."

"Uh… huh. Sure, Jake." The pizza devoured, Finn gathered up the box to recycle it like a good, responsible citizen, not at all perturbed that his brother had called an inarguable 'not it!', thus meaning he was exempt from going outside. Not that Finn blamed him, though; it was cold, it was windy, and the precipitation was a distinctly unpleasant half rain, half snow thing, as if the weather was unwilling to admit that it was winter now. However, instead of civic duty, Finn found the trash cans missing. And by 'missing', he found them on top of the house, wedged in the branches.

"Uh… Jake?" Thoroughly suspicious now that Something Was Up, Finn never took his eyes off of the strange sight.

"Yeah, buddy?" When his polite inquiry was rudely ignored the elder brother stretched his head out of the window, returning Finn's frown with one of his own. "Uh… what's happening, brother?" Still no response. Very rude indeed. But Jake was an understanding brother, forgiving of such trivial slights like the saint he was, and rather than admonish Finn he instead followed his gaze skyward. "...Huh." When Finn's eyes narrowed at the wayward trash cans Jake's body met his head. "I got this." And indeed he did, such was the gift of being a shapeshifter.

When the metal cans were returned to their rightful spot Finn crossed his arms. "Something whack is going on, Jake."

The dog shrugged. "Maybe they went for a walk?"

"To the roof?," the boy scoffed. "No way, man. It's gotta be the world's weakest, most lame-o prank." He turned back to the house. "Come on. I'm getting my butt-kicking sword."

"Why? Gonna kick some butts?"

Whatever response Finn had was interrupted by the third peculiar event of the evening: the first thing he saw upon opening the door was BMO floating, bouncing about in the air. If the mad giggling was any indication the small electronic sensed no danger, only joy. "Look, Finn and Jake! I am flying! My birthday wish came true!"

Which brought everything back to the present. "Ghosts! I told you, Finn, we're haunted! Oh man, I never should've given BMO that monkey's paw!" With that the elder hero sprung into action, ripping wooden planks from the tree house's walls to barricade the trio inside, thus keeping wayward spirits out. Of course, it would also trap them inside with the wayward spirit that had already invaded their home, but Facts were pointy and hurtful and Finn wouldn't inflict them on anyone.

"Ghosts," Finn deadpanned, watching his brother frantically work. This was just too absurd. Though the dog responded the boy didn't hear him, his attention monopolized by strange scuffs on the floor. It had caught his eye just as he was turning to help BMO whether he wanted it or not, out of place and distracting. Drawing from his years of experience in tuning Jake and his misplaced mania out he kneeled, running his fingers over the black marks. "What the bojangle?" There was something oddly familiar about these marks. They were wet scuffs, fresh, but not ones created by any resident of the house. He tried to rub them away, but his fingers came back with water droplets. Rain? His eyes narrowed, picking up a moist trail that led him from the door, into the living room, stopping just under the giggling computer.

It clicked, then, all of the pieces that seemed to make no sense independently. He knew, and he smiled, and though there was bewilderment in Finn's voice there was also the unmistakable twinge of laughter. Of hope. He knew those scuffs. After all, the very first time he had encountered them it had been a night exactly like this. "...Marce? Is that you?"

The wild, cackling laughter that followed brought more delighted confusion, but when his friend dropped her cloak of invisibility he stood, resisting the urge to scoop her up in a bear hug. "Man, that took you guys way longer than it should've. You getting soft without me around to keep you on your toes?" Her question was punctuated by a devil-may-care smirk, and even as she narrowed her eyes at Finn in a playful challenge she didn't put BMO down. Not that the android seemed to mind.

Whereas Finn had decided against a grand display of physical affection Jake chose the opposite route, wrapping the vampire up in a massive hug and pulling his brother in for good measure, tail wagging all the while. "Marceline! Oh man, you're so much better than ghosts!"

A noise somewhat like a cross between a snort and a chortle escaped the woman. "Come here, baby," she cooed to BMO before he was deposited gently on the couch. Much to Finn's surprise, her follow up action was not to tease the boys for the embrace, or to even pull away: It was to return it. "Yeah, I know, I grock. What up?"

Finn didn't reply, not immediately. He instead spent the time it took the dog to remove his arms to appraise his friend, to compare notes based on how she looked now and how she looked then. Despite the fact that he had last seen her mere days ago there was a world of difference. First and foremost: she was outside, and with no princess in sight, suggesting that she had come alone. Unsupervised. Though the twitching in her hand betrayed nervousness the ever-present tremor was presently gone. She seemed unmarred by the strain training in the Fire Kingdom had taken on her. In fact, she was well-dressed, with clean and only slightly damp jeans, completely undamaged black tanktop under an equally undamaged red flannel shirt, a bit of a clash with her purple collar but hey, who was he to judge fashion? She was carrying a messenger bag that looked distinctly like the one Princess Bubblegum had brought to the Nightosphere, cementing his assumption that- You guys are doing alright, huh? Good for you, P-Bubs. "You look great, Marce," he said with a warm smile.

Her smirk mirrored his, but the way she rubbed the back of her neck betrayed her apprehension. This wasn't too odd, though; she had never been good at expressing any sentiment that didn't involve anger, unless music was, of course, involved. "Yeah. Thanks, Finn," she murmured.

Jake opened his mouth, but whatever wisdom he was about to impart was interrupted by something catching his eye. Something wet. Something- "Ah, man. There's water all over the place! Marce!"

Marceline blinked, her innocent look almost convincing as she glanced down to see what the cause of her friend's ire was. But as Finn's father used to say, 'almost' only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. "Oh, that wasn't me."

Jake squinted, radiating mistrust. It only made her affectionate smile mischievous. "There's wet bootprints everywhere!" His paw jabbed in the direction of the vampire's boots, but she didn't bother looking down a second time for confirmation.

"Then there's an imposter in the house, guys. You should probs deal with that."

"The water goes right to you!"

The half-demon turned thoughtful at that, as if she were truly considering admitting to the shenanigans and repenting. Instead she shrugged. "Well, there's your first clue. The imposter is a phantom."

Jake threw his paws up in agitation that no one, including himself, truly believed. When the queen went to taunt him further, however, a strange muffling interrupted her. A strange muffling that was coming from- "Uh… Marce? Your uh… chest…" Finn coughed, as if that could hide his blush. "Your chest is talking."

"Wha?" Minding neither boy's blush or her own decency, Marceline reached into her shirt, hand fishing distinctly at chest level. Finn had to assume she was taking an unnecessarily long time to wrangle whatever it was that was making the noise out, but she only spared him a knowing wink before she uncurled her hand, revealing a holo-crystal.

The image of Princess Bubblegum emanated from Marceline's palm, and the musician floated to squeeze into view with the rest of the house. Finn had to assume that was on purpose, too. "Guten Abend, Finn and Jake!"

Embarrassment forgotten, Finn grinned at the screen. "Hey, PB! How ya doing?"

The image returned Jake's wave. "Wunderbar! I see you made it safely, Marce-" And then the princess stopped. Frowned. Narrowed her eyes. "Marceline, where is your jacket?"

Marceline snickered, hiding it as a cough behind her free hand. "Probably in the closet," she replied slyly.

Princess Bubblegum's lips tightened into a thin line. "Well, I'm very glad for it and hope the closet is warm."

The vampire shrugged, seemingly immune from the warning tone of voice. "Probs. It's a warm jacket."

"Marceline!"

It was the first time Finn had heard her raise her voice to his undead friend, even in jest, since the trio had been on their rescue mission and it took the boy more than a few moments to realize he had been holding his breath. It exhaled with Marceline's laugh. "Chill out, Bon. I'm fine. Can't really feel the cold, remember?"

"You should be wearing a jacket! You're just going to get soaked needlessly, and then my towels will just so happen to have grey spots in them when you conveniently use them to drive yourself and-" The princess stopped when she caught a rude gesture from the corner of her eye; Marceline's hand opening and closing in clear mockery of her lecture. "...Marceline, it's a holo-crystal."

Now it was Jake's turn to snicker as Marceline blushed guiltily, looking to her traitorous hand. "...Oh yeah."

Bonnibel sighed, and Finn started to hold his breath again, praying that his ladybros weren't about to fight right in the middle of his living room. And then her lips quirked and Marceline grinned at her. The princess returned it with a soft smile of her own. "Did you give it to them yet?"

It was befuddling to the boys how quickly all forms of animosity left the candy golem's voice, how her tone turned conversational. Marceline didn't seem to notice. "Not yet. Made a pit stop for some apples. Just got here."

Bonnibel nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, that's why I called. I wanted to let you know that I sent Pep to prepare dinner, so you should head back when you can."

"Rock. Does that mean I get to eat the rest of your pant-"

"I'll see you soon, Marceline!," the princess rushed out in a single breath before abruptly cutting the connection.

The onyx-haired woman cackled deviously before turning back to the brothers, evidently empowered by her own antics. "Alright, kids. Gotta fulfill my errand before Bon comes out here herself to drag me back."

As her hand dug through the satchel at her side, Jake eagerly attempting to take a peak but unable to see what it was she was searching for buried beneath a plethora of shiny red apples, Finn tilted his head. "How do you feel, Marce?" His own voice surprised him, his internal narrative meant to stay that way, but in for a penny in for a pound. Really, he wanted to know how she and the princess were doing, given the circumstances both past and current. Still, he knew that it was, strictly speaking, none of his business. Despite his curiosity he would have to wait for the truth to reveal itself. 'Sides, how she's doing is def more important.

"Eh, I'm good." A non-answer if the hero ever heard one, but there was no bark in her voice, no undertone of aggression or instability at all. She sounded decidedly normal, and he felt a warmth in his chest at the realization. Any follow-up comments would have to be put on hold, though; the vampire had found what she was looking for. It was a scroll, it seemed. Shiny and new, it reflected the light in the room as she waved it in front of the brothers. "Alright, I'm out. Laters." Despite the delicate nature of scrolls and the intricate gilded design the princess employed to seal her official correspondences she tossed it haphazardly at Finn, not even bothering to watch if he caught it before attempting to leave. 'Attempting' being the operative word. "Jake," She groaned.

Blocking her path was indeed the dog, arms crossed, foot tapping. "Uh uh. What if we have questions?"

"Then you learn life is a series of compromises."

"Nope!" He turned her by the shoulders back to Finn, and though she hissed at him that had no bite in that either. "What's the story, Finn?"

The story was a strange one. In fact, it made the boy's jaw drop, his eyes widen, his heart skip a beat. "It's… a royal proclamation." Though Jake made further noises of inquiry the younger hero said nothing, instead mutely handing the announcement over. Words had failed him.

"Let's see…," Jake mumbled as his eyes skimmed the block of dainty text. "By order of Her Highness Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum the Candy Kingdom will, in recognition of services performed on behalf of the Kingdom, its monarch, and its citizens beyond the call of duty…" And then he, too, trailed off, jaw dropping. Marceline only laughed, a devilish thing full of warm fondness. Of knowing. "No. Way."

"Yep!", she drawled, popping the 'p' at the end for good measure. "It was my idea, by the way. So, you know. You're welcome."

Jake recovered from the shock faster, as he so often did. His grin split his face and he punched his brother's arm to snap him out of his stupor. "Dude! We're being knighted! Us! Knights! Oh man, I gotta call Lady!"

Finn watched his brother dash for the phone, his mind still two steps behind everyone else's it seemed. "We're… being knighted?!"

Marceline arched an eyebrow, pulling Jake back into the room as he loudly lamented her unfair use of vampire powers. "Yeah, welcome to the party, Finn. Man you guys are slow."

"But…" But what? It was joyous news to be sure, but it was shocking for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was- "Can P-Bubs do that?!"

Marceline shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah. She's done it before."

That was news to him. "She has?"

"Yeah, once."

That merited a follow-up, but Jake's questions barreled through instead. "Which of the many valid reasons is she using to knight us? And why did you have that idea?"

In lieu of further jesting Marceline gave a deep sigh, landing. It wasn't a gesture of irritation, or even exhaustion. It was born from some other emotion Finn couldn't place but wished he could. It seemed important. "Look," she began, levity temporarily paused, "Bonnie's gonna skin me if she finds out I told you this, so shut your marshmallow-stuffers, cool?" Jake made a grand gesture of zipping his mouth, quite literally, as his brother thumped his chest with his fist twice in solemn vow. "She felt… well, not really guilty, I don't know if Bon can feel guilty. But all this crud has got her thinking about everything's that happened. I don't know what went on in my mindmeats but it really messed with her, and she doesn't think she would have gotten me out of there without you guys. Or, you know, out of the Nightosphere. And a lot of other stuff I don't know about." Her hand waved in dismissal. "I know you're her champions, but it got her thinking about all the stuff you dweebs have done for her and her candy peeps, realized there's a lot there. So, this is happening, and it's the highest honor the Candy Kingdom has. Like, officially."

Finn was touched, but Jake recovered from the drama bomb faster. "And it was your idea?" His suspicious squinting betrayed how little he believed that.

Marceline exhaled, but rather than rash condemnation for his ingratitude she did something even more perplexing: she sat in the air, as if she actually understood the gravity of the situation. "Look," she began once more. "You know I'm…" Hesitation. Sentiment always was hard for the immortal woman to express, but she coughed it up like a champ. "Really glad you guys were there. You got me out of my brain, you got me in touch with Phoebe, a bunch of other crud… but that's not the important thing to me."

"Yeah? What is?" Jake's squinting continued-

"Bonnie is."

-and promptly stopped. "What you talkin' 'bout, Marceline?"

The musician looked away, rubbing her arm in a clear betray of her apprehension. The brothers, sensing the emotional weight on her shoulders, gave her time and space to compose herself and collect her thoughts. The princess had always been a sensitive topic, even before the full nature of their relationship had been disclosed. When her hand came to rest over her left wrist she continued, her voice hushed, her mind filled with some thought or memory unknown to mere mortals. "Bon's been a lot…" She sighed deeply. "You guys never knew Bon, back before she was Princess Bubblegum." That title was almost spat. No one faulted her. "She's always been a little nuts, but it got worse when she put on the crown. I didn't do much to help it, I guess, but she was my best friend. And I lost her. Just… didn't know it yet. Not until you dorks decided to turn up and squat in my house. After all the gunk that's happened… she's been a lot happier. She's been like herself again. She's trying, not 'cause she has to but 'cause she wants things to be better between us."

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Are they?"

Marceline turned to Finn, noting his nervousness. It was weird, he realized in retrospect, how that stare could seem so predatory in one context, and tender in another. Such as right now. "...Yeah." Her grip tightened over her wrist, but her smile was fond as she glanced towards her arm. "A lot better." Though her gaze seemed far away, her attention returned to her friends. Specifically, oddly enough, to Jake. Her voice was tight. "So yeah. I owed you. And some weirdo in a suit I met in a dream said she believes in reciprocation."

Jake made a strange whimpering noise that Finn made a mental note of, but knew better than to inquire about it now. What was that about? "So… what happens now?"

The tightness melted away with the change in topic. "Well, ceremony's tomorrow, so Bon's probably gonna want you to show up. Probably wearing clothes."

"Yeah, I got that, thanks Marce."

"Then why did you ask?" Before the quip could elicit a response she turned to make for the door. "The deets are on the parchment, Bon purps didn't tell me 'cause she had this crazy idea that I'd lie and mess you up on when stuff is. Unfair, right?" Her snicker betrayed that the princess's prediction had, in fact, been narrowly avoided. "So yeah, see you dweebs tomorrow. Later!"

And then she was gone, into the night and rain. Finn and Jake stared after her, only vaguely registering BMO pushing the door closed with a disgruntled grumble about how he had to do everything. His mood improved once he climbed back to his perch on the couch, aided by a conveniently placed paw. "Yay! Finn and Jake are going to be knights! Will you be knights even when it is daylight?"

Finn glanced down at the parchment, taking it to smooth out. As if that would reveal any more information. "...This is bonkers, Jake. Mathematical, but bonkers."

Jake rubbed his chin, eyes narrowed in thought. "Think something fishy's goin' on, Finn?"

Though he paused to consider the possibility, Finn ultimately shook his head. "No, Marceline seemed pretty in control of herself. And she and Preebs seemed almost…"

"Normal?"

"Yeah. Well, for them anyway."

"Then why do you sound so bummed, dude?"

Finn blinked. Why did he sound so bummed? "I dunno, man. It just doesn't feel real. We just dropped Marce off at the castle a few days ago. What the stuff happened?"

"Something good!" Jake offered a non-committal shrug. "Come on, man. If all this weird adventure has taught me it's that they ain't gonna tell us nothin' until they want or need to. 'Sides, if we're gonna go to the castle tomorrow we're gonna see 'em together, right?"

True, Finn mused. They look okay right now, but…

"'Sides, you gotta trust Bubblegum. Marce lies like a champ, but she seemed pretty sincere about all this knighting biz." He grinned, "Wait until I tell Lady!" And then he was gone, for with no vampire to stop him he would waste no time in alerting his girlfriend that the father of her pupsters was going to be an honest to goodness knight of the Candy Kingdom.

Finn watched him go, almost joined him, except for the small cough that interrupted him. It wasn't from the couch, so it had to be from- "What's the sitch, BMO?"

BMO was nodding solemnly, first along to Jake's reasoning, and then to his own. Though the tiny computer hadn't been inside Marceline's mind, or the Nightosphere once she was rescued and had to be persuaded to come home, he had heard all of the details at least half a dozen times since that dark day when a new scar was added to the half-demon's throat. After gasping and being expressly sworn to secrecy BMO had turned thoughtful on the matter, so quiet in fact that Finn had almost suspected he had forgotten all about it. Evidently not. "I know it is strange, Finn, but did you expect everything to go back to the way things were?" The boy raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt. "We cannot go backwards, only forwards, and sometimes that means things must be a little different than what you are used to or hoped for. But if you look at a situation with your eyes and not with a closed off heart you can see that it is actually an improvement!" He reached out, taking Finn's hand to pat it in what the hero assumed was supposed to be reassurance. "Change is scary, but only you see what grows from it."

Finn hummed in thought. "Yeah. Thanks, BMO." The small green arms dropped his hand. "You wanna come?"

"Oh," BMO giggled, "I do not want to be a both-"

"I mean, the invitation said you're an important part of the team, so you-"

Those were the magic words: the android gasped sharply, hands flying to the side of his face as his eyes widened. "Oh my glob! I must find something to wear!"

Finn chuckled, scooping BMO up as he toddled upstairs. "Come on, man." With a little cheer spurring him onward the boy climbed the steps, just in time to see Jake hang up the phone.

The dog looked positively smug. "Yeah, Lady's impressed. I'm great. Everyone knows it."

As the younger brother shook his head he placed BMO down in front of the closet, absent-mindedly opening it even as he looked to Jake. "Are you still heading over tonight? It's gross outside."

Jake waved his paw dismissively. "Nah, apparently Lady's been recruited to help set up for tomorrow. I'm under strict instruction to go to bed early so we ain't late and eat a big breakfast in the morning, and that's the kinda nagging I can get behind!" With an overly-dramatic yawn and stretch, first of his arms and then to the small drawer he called a bed, the dog made it quite obvious what his intentions were for the rest of the evening. "Wake me up bright and early for breakfast, Finn!" Though his back was to his brother, he waved his paw with a flourish. "I take my waffles with syrup, bacon, and a la mode!"

"Jake-"

"And cinnamon!"

"Jake-"

"And the fridge!"

"Ja-"

"Night!" A loud buzzing, if one could even call it snoring, filled the room. It was as overly dramatic as it was a conversation ender.

Finn exhaled as he shook his head in something like bafflement, turning to his own sleeping bag. "Night, bro," he whispered. Now left alone with his thoughts, and with nothing to do but to change into night clothes and set BMO's alarm bright and early, the young hero mulled over the strange interaction, trying to place what it meant in the grand scheme of things. Yes, he knew Princess Bubblegum was elated to have Marceline back and in one piece, and it certainly seemed that the two were on good terms if that conversation was any indicator.

But was that a reason to be knighted of all things? Despite his years of service acting as the princess's Champion he had no idea such a station as 'knight' even existed. In fact, if Marceline was to be believed, only one other person had ever been knighted in the Kingdom's some five-centuries of existence. So… she's gotta only do it for really mega mundo important junk. Sure, Marceline was her best friend and mate, but Princess Bubblegum wasn't one to mix sentiment and work. Finn had never known someone to compartmentalize so often, easily, or as effectively, as his ladybro, and though the events of the previous year had been traumatic for all involved he couldn't imagine her breaking form that badly. She said… in services of the Kingdom. What the fuzz does that jam mean? As he laid down for the evening, wrapping snuggly in his sleeping bag, his leap in logic hit a wall. He would have to ask her tomorrow.

Which, as it turned out, came much faster than he anticipated. Actually, Finn hadn't expected that he would sleep at all, assuming that agitation and unease would keep him awake. Perhaps lulled by his brother's loud snoring, or maybe the onslaught of rain out the window tapping against the glass, sleep had found the hero with less difficulty than was reasonable, given the situation. Still, he was glad; the night passed without incident, and with hours of solid rest he felt less trepidation about the day's coming events. Indeed, his anxiety gave way to excitement, and to pride. When he did awaken he did so smiling, and in breaking with recent tradition his good mood lasted through breakfast.

It turned mixed when he, Jake, and BMO stepped outside to see a very large bird perched on his lawn. A very large bird being ridden by a very small mint. "Finn! Jake!" A very small mint waving, as if The Morrow was impossible to miss.

"...Pep?" Not his most articulate of inquiries, but it would do.

"Yeah! Her Majesty didn't expect you to be awake on time, so she gave me permission to slap you awake!" He paused. "Do you want me to slap you?"

"Nah, man. We're good."

Jake nodded his concurrence, puffing his chest up. "Yep! More awake than I've been in minutes!"

"Oh," Peppermint Butler pouted. "...Can I slap you anyway for good measure?"

"Nah, man," Finn repeated.

"Poop. I never get to slap anyone," he grumbled. With an over-dramatic sigh he nudged the massive bird, who squinted at him in challenge before kneeling. "Well, hop aboard!"

Finn made to take a step, but a paw on his chest stopped him. "And you're not gonna slap us?"

"No, Jake, and stop reminding me of my bitter failures."

With crossed arms and a loud *harumph*, Peppermint Butler turned himself away from the brothers and their invited guest. Jake shrugged at Finn before allowing him the honor of risking his life mounting the great bird first. She at least had the decency to only playfully nip at their heels. At least, Finn hoped it was playful. "Onward!" The bird shot the butler a pointed look before taking to the sky.

The whooshing of wind made it impossible for Finn to ask the butler any questions, which seemed a shame given that if anyone was bound to have both a knowledgeable and impartial opinion to what the Princess could be thinking, it was him. I'll have to see if I can ask before we head inside. Yes, that would have to work; better to risk a quick chat than be blind-sided by another event wherein Princess Bubblegum meant well but actually doomed someone she cared about. Terrible as it sounded, she was quite good at it. The boy turned his head to confirm his suspicions with Jake, but found his brother screaming about the unsafe velocity and altitude of the princess's mount. It seemed like a better use of his time and Finn left him to it.

The journey was, fortunately, a quick one. Not that the brothers noticed. In fact, by the time The Morrow landed, allowing her passengers to dismount before accepting some sort of treat offered by the princess's favorite servant, there was only one word Finn had to describe the sight before him.

"Woah."

He wasn't sure when or how, but sometime between whenever the rain had ended the night before and now the lawn of the Candy Kingdom's castle had been completely transformed. A great stage had been erected before the structure, covered with tan cloth that seemed aged, but well-kept. A dark brown wooden archway stood proud above the stage, covered with banners and flags of pink and purple, and of red and black. In the light breeze they waved proudly, and Jake grinned when he realized who it was that was adding the finishing touches. Lady Rainicorn waved back, but turned back to her work with a wide, proud smile.

At the center of the stage, almost at the edge but wisely out of reach of the crowd - which would almost certainly consist principally of Candy Kingdom citizens - sat a massive table, covered in the same aged cloth. A series of objects lay across it carefully, but from the distance Finn couldn't make out what they were. A podium hugged the front of the table, but that, too, was a mystery. Behind both was a deep purple curtain of what looked like velvet, accented with gold trim and tassels. Unlike the cloth, the curtain seemed oddly new.

Even more odd, though, was the seating arrangements. At first Finn thought it was simply incomplete, but as Peppermint Butler led the trio closer to the castle it became obvious that the strange set-up was purposeful. Though two rows of chairs had been carefully sat on the lawn, a line had been drawn behind them. A literal pink line. A literal line that the candy people gawking and waving at the champions dared not to cross, only to devolve into hushed whispers when the boy and dog did.

"Uh, Pep-"

"Bring it out further, Lady! The sun's bright today!"

Finn's head shot away from the butler to the source of Princess Bubblegum's voice. At first he didn't spot her on the massive stage, but there she was, partially obscured by the curtain. It seemed she had yet to notice him, too focused on directing Lady to drag a thick black awning out from the archway. When he stepped closer, preparing to call out to the princess, Peppermint Butler stopped short and brought the hero with him. "Woah, dude! The princess is working!" His sigh contained a muttered curse for the disrespect of youth. "Come on, I'll bring you backstage."

"Hey, hold up, Pep!" The butler sighed once more, stopping. "Why are there so few chairs? Isn't this a massive thing?"

"Oh, that." The servant waved his hand as if the answer were obvious. "The whole kingdom is invited and will be here, but the chairs are just for honored guests to sit. It's tradition, yo." With that said he turned back to his task, strolling to the stage, evidently expecting Finn to follow like a good lad.

"Oh." Finn frowned softly, then kneeled to pick BMO up. "Here, man." The android, dressed in his finest pirate garments and eyepatch, made a surprised noise as he was set upon the closest chair. "Front row seat."

Indeed it was, and BMO clapped. "Now all will see my attire!"

That brought a genuine smile to Finn's lips. "Oh yeah. Keep an eye on everything, okay BMO? You're in charge."

The android nodded, drawing a small sword and holding it aloft in salute. "I shall protect this seat with all my circuits!"

Finn gave him a thumb's up. "You got this, dude." He turned to jog after Jake and Peppermint Butler. "Hey, Pep-," he began to call.

"Oh, Finn! Jake! Welcome!"

Interrupted a second time, not that Finn could hold it against the princess. She turned away from Lady, waving at them in a warm greeting. That, her sudden appearance, wasn't what caused him to stumble and silently thank Jake for catching him before he could fall, nor was it what abruptly silenced his inquiry, or how surprised she sounded that the brothers were actually on time to their own knighting ceremony. No, he was rendered mute by the mere sight of the woman he had dedicated his heroing career and first crush to. He was used to Princess Bubblegum in any manner of outfits, had seen her in everything from sweatpants when she was dethroned to her Most Royal Dress at important events and meetings, always elegant in her own way.

This outfit paled in comparison. It was a gown, lilac and sparkling from small gems of blue and white reflecting the light of the sun. It hugged her curves, dragging gracefully until it almost touched the ground, almost but stopped precisely at her ankles to prevent it from dirtying. It slit at the chest, exposing more of her skin than he was used to her being comfortable with at official events. Though he tried his hardest not to stare he couldn't help but notice the way her green and gold choker brought out her eyes, how beautiful she looked. Out of the corner of his eye something else caught his attention, and he glanced briefly at an odd white spot on her shoulder that the thin straps of her gown did nothing to hide. He didn't recall ever seeing it before, but mercifully, the princess seemed oblivious to his mental conundrum, instead waving them over and politely ignored his flush. "Mornin', Peebs." Finn commended himself on his ability to sound normal.

"Hey, Bubblegum! What's the haps?"

She exhaled softly, a sign not of irritation but of exertion and turned her head to the sky. "Lady! You got this so I can brief the guys and Marcy can get them all set up?" The rainicorn called something down, something Finn didn't understand but made Jake chuckle and the princess roll her eyes. "Thanks, girl!" And then they had her full, undivided attention. "I'm glad to see Marceline delivered the message after all! We have just enough time to get you boys ready!"

Jake slapped his paws together, grinning, but Finn wasn't letting this opportunity get away. He had to know. "Uh… Peebs? Can I talk to you about all this?"

She tilted her head, befuddled by his serious expression. "What's wrong, Finn?"

The hero puffed out his cheeks, trying to decide the most tactful way to ask his inquiry. "Marce said that… you've only knighted once before, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. It's a privilege reserved for performing extraordinary services for the Candy Kingdom beyond the call of duty."

His voice lowered. "And… all this is about Marce, right?" 'Cause we've done lots of other stuff before and it's cray cray that you picked that.

Bonnibel frowned in thought, mulling over both what he was asking and what he was avoiding asking. She had known Finn since he was a child, and he had officially been her champion for over half a decade. She had watched him grow, first as a warrior, then as a hero. They had grown close, first as liege and champion, and then as her friend. Disarming him with an understanding smile she turned, motioning for the brothers to step not behind the curtain into the sanctity of privacy, but off into the corner, in the bright light of day. "I understand what you're asking, Finn. It's alright. I understand your conundrum" Despite the reassurance, when the human opened his mouth no sound came out. Deep down, he felt worse than ungrateful. He felt as though he were accusing his liege, his friend, of something awful.

"Finn," Bonnibel began gently, "I would like for you to understand this from my perspective. Marceline is my mate, and thus our relationship is highly personal, yes, but she has also been an invaluable advisor, as well as my Champion, since before there even was a Candy Kingdom. It would, quite literally, not exist without her…," she sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her mind free of some unpleasant memory before opening them again, "and I wouldn't be here without her. She has saved my life countless times, and provided me with guidance that allowed me to rise to power and never lose it. When I said that saving her was in service of the Kingdom I meant that literally." Now her smile was soft, not something Finn was used to seeing of her but welcomed all the same. "I am confident that, our relationship aside, both I and the Candy Kingdom would be in a significantly worse position without her. The highest honor I can give you - both of you - is to elevate your station and grant you all of the perks and responsibilities that comes with it. You have helped ensure the Kingdom continues to remain a seat of power unrivalled in all of Ooo."

She meant to say something more, he could tell, but something caught her from the corner of her eye from behind the curtain. Something that caused her to frown. "If you'll excuse me, I see someone I'm delighted to go greet. When you boys are ready Marceline will help you get prepared for the ceremony. Don't dawdle! She's hiding behind the curtain until Lady and I get the awning set up. She'll be able to prepare you." And then they were dismissed, watching mutely as their liege stalked off and paid a very convincing greeting to Phoebe.

"Marce was right," Jake mused after a lengthy silence.

"About what?"

"She's happier. Can't you tell?" Jake gave his brother a side-eyed look, as if to say 'are you serious?', before whistling merrily, off to see the vampire behind the curtain.

For now, Finn's analysis of his ladybro's words would have to be placed on hold. If Marceline was indeed waiting for them it was only a matter of time before she got bored and started her own special brand of mischief. "Wait up!" Jake did wait up, but his smug look said 'you owe me', as if it were some great strain of effort on his part. That smug look didn't drop until the brothers parted the curtain and slid into the back-end of the stage, which laid empty. Empty save for a table piled with various objects that Finn couldn't discern before his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and the vampire leaning against the support beam planted in the middle of the archway's back, leg decanted as her black boots tapped out a wordless beat. Hearing them before they could announce themselves she opened an eye, yawned, then opened the other. "There you dorks are. 'Bout time, right?"

Whereas Bonnibel's attire could only be described as beautiful, Marceline's was elegant in an entirely different way. So used to her normal attire of laid-back street clothes and loud red boots, neither Finn nor Jake were prepared for how she presented now, clad in a severe black suit, embellished with a rich brocade. It was outlined with a crimson floral embroidery about the lapels, sleeve holes, and gorge of the neck, just a few shades lighter than her eyes that seemed to draw attention first to the suit, then her eyes, then back again. The brocade continued in both her black pants and the vest nestled under the jacket top, which followed its partners' floral scroll pattern. A gold chain, attached from somewhere within the jacket, hooked through the center of the vest to cinch it closed, drawing Finn's attention to the metal embellishments. He recognized the Candy Kingdom crest stamped in some alloy he could not identify, but the other three seemed a mystery to him.

The sheer black undershirt hugged her neck, blocking her fresh scars. Instead there sat some gem that made the boy wince, reminding him all-too much of the chaos amulet. A second glance broke the illusion, for it was not a gem at all but a shiny charm in the design of a series of arrows, each pointed in a different direction. It was a design he had seen somewhere before, but that puzzle would have to wait. Sometime since the brothers had last seen her the night before her hair had been braided and it hung across her shoulder like a rope. Whereas Bonnibel's dress seemed designed to hug her form and accentuate her curves Marceline's suit gave an altogether different impression, something dangerous that almost seemed to invite a challenge.

Despite the hour and brightness of the Sky Ball of Death, she wore no arm-length gloves or wide-brimmed hat; the only indicator that she was aware that she was awake in the day was the folded black parasol leaning to her side. Jake responded before his brother, evidently either unaffected by Marceline's outfit or simply faster at recovering from it. "Yo, Marce! Bubblegum sent us back here to you. Said you'd know what to do."

The demon rolled her eyes and pushed off from the wall with a stretch. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, I'm gonna run down the deets with you guys about what's about to happen. Cool?" Whether or not it was indeed cool, she strolled - not floated, as Finn realized with a start - to the table the boys had passed on their way in. Assuming they were meant to follow he did so, Jake trotting behind. "Okay, so," she began, gesturing to the table. "This thing has got, like, actual rules-"

"And how do you know them?," Jake asked with a squint. Be just like her to tell us the wrong deets and make us look like chumps.

Marceline raised her eyebrow at the interruption. "...'Cause I rock. Save the dumb questions for after, okay? Really don't need Bon coming back here, she's already mega stressed. So, anyways," once more, she gestured to the table, and this time Finn looked. There appeared to be three strips of long, thick cloths not unlike bath towels, though while all three were outlined with gold one was black, whereas the other two were pure white. Rather than explain their purpose first, Marceline grabbed the pure white ones and thrust them at the brothers. "These go over your shoulders, try not to drop 'em or we gotta wait for Pep to wash 'em and that takes a gajillion years."

She did not continue, only looking expectantly with crossed arms. Jake's squint only intensified, but with a slow, deliberate reluctance he draped his cloth over his shoulders. "Alright, but if this is a ruse…"

He trailed off, having no valid threat to levy against a woman hundreds of years his senior and with enough power to turn him inside out. Finn only shrugged his agreement, draping his cloth as well. "Cool. Did you guys bring any swords or other pokey things?" Both shook their heads. "Awesome, then I don't gotta confiscate them."

"Confiscate?"

Marceline groaned loudly at the repeated interruptions. "Yeah, dude, this thing has actual rules. And what did I say about stupid questions? 'Cause spoilers, all your questions are dumb." The quip was softened considerably by the levity in her tone. "So, here's how this plays out. You guys are gonna go out there, and Bonnie's going to say a bunch of things. Then I'm gonna ask you the following." Three fingers were held up, closing into a fist one by one in timing with each point. "I'm gonna ask if you acknowledge Bon as your liege, or however I'm supposed to say it these days, I gotta read that thing again. Then I'll ask if you swear to defend her until either she's either without a throne or until you croak. Last thing, I'll ask if you'll uphold the kingdom's law and junk for the good of the citizens. Whatever I ask, you just say 'I do so swear'. Got it?"

Finn glanced to his brother, and both shrugged. "That seems pretty easy."

"Yeah, that's it?"

"Eh. She says a bunch of other stuff after that I can't remember 'cause it's been a long-butts time since she's done this and I wasn't really paying a lot of attention the first time."

"But… that's it?"

"Yep."

"No fighting a giant monster? No weird contest where we gotta prove ourselves by holding our breaths? None of that gunk?," Jake pressed.

"No," Marceline groaned. "Once that's all done she has me give you a few things-"

"We get presents?!"

"-and then you're knights."

"And… what does that actually mean, Marce?"

Whereas the musician ignored Jake's exclamations of presents, and his follow-up dance celebrating the incoming treasure, Finn she addressed. "Well, you're honorary citizens first off, but you just get whatever those perks are without needing to do boring stuff like pay taxes. You can actually call yourselves 'sir' if you want, so that's a thing. You also get a stipend to do hero stuff with, since that means that after me you're gonna be the first peeps Bonnie calls to save her butt if my perfect butt doesn't. Also means that if you're somewhere else doing something for her, like talking to another kingdom, and that kingdom messes with you they mess with Bonnie, too. You also have to- ...I mean, you get to help her prepare for things like other ceremonies, import' events. Sometimes she even makes stuff like weapons and armor, if you swing that way."

Hearing that last part, Finn's eyes lit up. "You know I'm all about weapons and armor, Marce!"

She rolled her eyes, but instead of responding she draped the black cloth over her own shoulders, taking a moment to straighten and flatten the fabric. A thick, double-stranded golden cord hung from her, curling down her left arm. Before either brother could inquire as to the symbolism Marceline wandered back to her previous perch, not for her bass, but to unfold the parasol. "Alright, dweebs, let's go get you knighted. Trust me, the ladies love a good knight." With a snicker at her terrible joke and a knowing look aimed specifically at Finn, she turned to slide out of the curtain. Jake grinned and offered a nudge to his brother, though whether it was meant to be taunting or encouraging the boy wasn't sure.

By the time Finn's blush had subsided he found Marceline and Princess Bubblegum towards the center of the stage. No longer paying any attention to her mortal friends, the vampire leaned in to her lover, whispering something in her ear that caused the younger woman to blush, laugh, and swat at her arm. The young hero smiled at the scene. "Hey, PB!"

The princess turned, gave both of her champions a quick look over, and seemed to approve. "Alright boys. Are you ready?"

"You know it, Peebles!," Finn boasted, puffing out his chest. Jake nodded solemnly, but his attention was clearly divided between the situation at hand, and his girlfriend's presence setting the rest of the stage.

"Wonderful. Now, stand here in front of the table-" Marceline helpfully shoved the boys before the podium, holding her hands defensively at her princess's pointed look. "...Yes, thank you, Marceline."

"Anytime, BonBon," she snickered. With a loud *click* the last of the awning was mounted, and with a loud exclamation of 'finally!', the parasol was folded. "Hold up," and then Marceline was gone, seemingly to return the accessory to wherever it came from.

Hey, speaking of accessories… "Hey, Peebs?"

"Yes?," she asked as she stepped onto the podium. "Are you nervous, Finn?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I was just wondering, though… where's your crown?"

"Oh." Her brow worried as she thought of an explanation. Or an excuse. "Well, you see-" Saved by her queen, Marceline chose just then to return. "Oh!," Princess Bubblegum repeated again, this time with noticeably more relief. "Marcy, the sword."

"Yeah, yeah."

It was only then, as Marceline approached the table separating the podium from the edge of the stage, that Finn noticed the array of objects lined up with great care. A long, thin sword with a blade of red folded steel crested the table. Even without a close examination Finn could tell it had been forged with great care, the black inlay of its folded metal accenting its single sharp edge and expert construction. Its hilt, lacking the traditional guard he was so used to, was black and leathery, a crimson inlay only slightly lighter than the blade itself gave the illusion of a gash or wound poking out from under it. Something, some text or design, seemed to be engraved on the blade under its blood groove, but in the bright light of day the inscription was hidden under the black grain of the metal's folds.

Below that sword lay two more. The first sword that caught the hero's eye was stubbier than the long sword above it, its own blade a folded metal of blue and purple and orange, the colors swirling and dancing together. It was beautiful, but staring into the pattern made his eyes cross and the human shook his head to clear his eye twitch. Whereas the first sword had been long this one was thick and looked heavy, its guard lacking the 'T' formation Finn was so used to but there all the same. Its hilt was wrapped in brown leather, leaving none of the metal exposed except for the decoration semi-circle at the end.

The final sword seemed to be almost a cross between its two siblings, long and thin, longer than even the first sword, but with a considerable heft that was apparent to the experienced swordsman without even touching it. Its blade was grooved down the center, and rather than have an intricate pattern its metal shined smooth, gleaming under what few rays the sun managed to sneak under the awning. There weren't many, but it was enough for Finn to see its broad guard engraved with the same multi-arrowed symbol Marceline wore as a charm at the base of her throat. It encased in the same brown leather as the one preceding it, though its decorative end was a ball rather than the semi-circle. Curiously, whereas the first two swords lay bare to the world the third had a partner, a brown wooden scabbard with brass accents at the tip and throat, a leather strap connected at either end. Something about the sword itself was unsettling to the young hero, some memory trying to emerge. When it finally broke ground he paled, realizing the truth: it may not have been a blood sword, but it was otherwise a perfect replica of the blade Navigator had crafted for him.

Yet these weapons were not the only things that lay on the table. Two pins, emblazoned with the crest of the Candy Kingdom and identical to the one worn by Marceline, rested proudly beneath the swords at the edge of the table, flanked on either side by a scroll of sealed parchment. Marceline approached these objects, but rather than go for any of the swords as instructed she instead kneeled, reaching under the table. As Finn watched, bewildered by both her actions and the fact the princess wasn't admonishing her for them, the onyx-haired woman pulled two stools free. They rolled easily, all gold and pink and topped with an equally gold and pink cushion, and were carefully stopped before the podium. With one whisper of instruction both Finn and Jake approached their respective cushions, glancing to each other, then back to Marceline as she delicately, almost lovingly, picked up the red and black sword. Sparing the boys one final sneer in what Jake hoped was encouragement and not derision, she took her place to the left of the podium and stood facing the crowd.

In the short time it had taken the heroes to be briefed on the ceremony behind the curtain the castle's lawn had filled out entirely. Even with only the briefest of chances to assess the crowd Finn couldn't help but notice that every chair had filled up, some by princesses from foreign lands - Phoebe had waved to him when she saw him peeking from his position - to Ice King, LSP, and even, to his great surprise, Huntress Wizard. Was that why Marce was smirking at me? Thank goodness no one could see his deepened blush from his position. Well, no one except Jake, who chortled knowingly but didn't draw attention to it. Behind the neatly laid out and very occupied chairs a great crowd of Candy Kingdom citizens had amassed, whispering and talking excitedly.

They fell silent enmasse when their princess stepped up to the podium.

"Citizens of the Candy Kingdom," she began, pride evident in her voice, "and honored guests from across Ooo! You have my sincerest thanks for attending this momentous occasion. This is indeed a joyous day, for the first time in almost five hundred years the Candy Kingdom has the great honor of dubbing its Champions, my Champions, into knighthood." Her pause was well-timed, for it took the kingdom denizens several moments to contain their excitement anew. "All of Ooo know of the great deeds accomplished by Finn Mertens the human and Jake the dog. They have saved many of us, myself included, from certain death on more than one occasion. They have rescued and protected us all, never asking for reparations, never demanding even a thank you or acknowledgement. Their sense of honor and duty is unparalleled, their sense of justice without equal. They have acted only in the interest and service of others, never for themselves.

"As many of you, all of you, are aware, Finn and Jake have been my noble Champions for over half a decade. I have had the great privilege of watching them grow, not just as warriors and heroes but…" She hesitated then, and unseen by all save for the brothers Marceline snuck her hand out, offering Bonnibel's a reassuring squeeze, before being retracted. She never stopped meeting the eyes of the crowd. "But," the princess continued, a smile playing at her lips, "as my friends and companions as well. They are sincere and genuine, and I can think of no one more fitting to welcome into my order. I offer them the Candy Kingdom as their home and as their charge. They have gone above and beyond the call of duty…" This time when she trailed off it was deliberate, turning to look directly at Marceline. "...and saved someone very dear to both me and the Candy Kingdom. Someone without whom I cannot imagine enduring an eternal life."

She looked back to the crowd, taking in their reactions and then promptly disregarding them as unimportant. Instead she looked directly at the stars of the show. "Finn, Jake, come forth and kneel." They did so, resting a knee on the cushions of their designated stools. Princess Bubblegum's voice carried back to the crowd. "Let it be known to all of Ooo's children that I, Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum, monarch of the Candy Kingdom, raise Finn Mertens the human and Jake the dog to the high rank of knighthood, by virtue of their honor, loyalty, valor, and skill."

That seemed to be Marceline's cue and she lifted her sword. Now it was her voice's turn to carry to the crowd. "Finn, Jake, do you swear and acknowledge Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum to your true and lawful liege?"

"We do swear," they spoke at once after a moment of hesitation.

"Do you swear fealty to Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum and vow to defend and obey her until she departs the throne, or until Death takes you?"

"We do swear," they repeated, this time with more confidence when they realized no punchline or joke was imminent.

"And do you swear to defend and protect the Candy Kingdom, its denizens, and its allies from that which would do them harm?"

"We do swear!"

Marceline smirked, but there was laughter in her eyes. Laughter and mischief. "Let this be the last blow you receive without just recourse and without the might of the Candy Kingdom at your backs." Though Jake grimaced in anticipation the vampire only tapped each of the heroes on their shoulders, twice to each side, and though her blade was clearly deadly sharp the vestments Finn and Jake had been draped in remained unmarred.

As she stepped back Princess Bubblegum picked up where she left off, giving her queen time to return to the table as she returned to the crowd. "I, for my part, do swear to defend and honor Finn Mertens the human and Jake the dog, as befit true knights. Turn, Finn and Jake, and accept my gift!"

Blinking in confusion the brothers rose, turning to Marceline as the princess's decree continued. "Receive now your swords, so that you may defend the kingdom with suitable arms befitting your station." Marceline laid her own sword on the table with great care before picking up the two remaining blades. To Finn's bafflement it was now her turn to kneel, and even did so without so much as a mumble or a scowl, turning the swords to the accolades. As Finn took the great steel broadsword Jake took ownership of its smaller, blue brother. While they admired their new weapons Marceline stood, motioning for them to follow her. In the time it took for them to straighten she had retrieved the pins, and the princess continued. "Receive now my signet, marking you in the eyes of Ooo as my true knights!" Without a word, only a look of amusement, Marceline pinned the sigils identical to her own to both boys, Finn at his shirt and Jake over his vestment. The dog breathed a sigh of relief that the prankster hadn't seen fit to pin it to his flesh or stick it in his fur. Somehow that seemed exactly like the thing she would do.

Instead she flashed them a subtle thumb's up, returning to her princess's side where she lowered herself to one knee, bowing her head. The candy golem rested her hand on the back of her grey neck, though her eyes pierced into the hearts of her champions. "I dub thee Sir Finn and Sir Jake. Take your pronouncements from the table and my gifts, and serve the kingdom well."

When her back turned a great cheer welled from the crowd, friends and strangers alike calling out to congratulate Finn and Jake on their great honor. Taking that as a sign that her part in the play was over Marceline stood, stretching without comment about what had just happened. Instead she flung an arm around the shoulders of her friends, pulling them back from the table and giving them just enough time to add the scrolls to their collection of prizes. "Congrats, kids, you survived! How does it feel, Sir Finn and Sir Jake?" She sniggered at the emphasis, not unkindly. It was met with stunned silence and she whapped them playfully on the back of the head. "Come on, guys, it's a party! Go live it up!" And then they were shoved off the stage, their descent slowed with some preternatural power courtesy of their assaulter.

Finn turned back but a moment too late; whether by speed or invisibility, Marceline was gone. Instead he allowed himself to be swallowed up by the crowd, his confusion drowned out by the voices of well-wishers and fans. By the time Huntress Wizard found him he had forgotten all about the bizarre circumstances that had led up to the day, and his worries gave way to the feeling of pride fueled by the praise of those who had made the great journey to see him and his brother become honest to goodness knights. They didn't turn back to the stage, or seek out either monarch responsible for making it all happen.

This suited Marceline just fine. Though she would normally love nothing more than to join in the fray of a massive celebration it was just too much this time. This day wasn't about her; it was about her friends, and making sure they were surrounded by the same love and support they had provided her, had been providing her no matter how hard she had tried to push them away. The sentiment ate at her, and the best course of action she had was to-

"Hiding behind the scenes, Marceline?"

In retrospect, she should have known she wouldn't make a quick getaway. She should have anticipated that she would be graced by the fire and flames that knew her better than anyone, save for her own mate. But that was her error, she was caught, and that meant taking her medicine. "Hey, Pheebs," she waved with a wriggle of her fingers. Her chin jutted to the front of the stage. "Shouldn't you be out there?"

Somehow Phoebe had slipped away from whatever delegate had been assigned to handle her for the day and had made her way to the back of the stage without issue, finding exactly the person she was looking for. The two monarchs apprised one another, but with one arched eyebrow from her friend the vampire knew she wasn't making it away with a quick 'hi and bye'. It was all too familiar, meeting like this. The princess was even wearing the same outfit she had been wearing the night they had met, looking every bit the refined monarch Marceline knew she would always be one day. Phoebe wanted to talk, and the number of people allowed to pin Marceline in place because they Wanted To Talk could be counted on one hand. Phoebe just so happened to be part of that hand, and in acknowledgement of that fact the musician parked herself in the air.

"Finn's attention has been usurped by Huntress Wizard. Someone let slip to LSP that they're dating and now he seems to be preoccupied."

Marceline choked back her laughter. "Yeah? 'Someone' just happened to let that slip? 'Someone', Phoebe?"

"I'll be sure to say hi to him after he escapes her loud clutches and he and Huntress Wizard have a few moments to catch up," she replied coolly.

A smooth evasion. Marceline would expect no less, and to reward it she tilted her head, letting Phoebe off of the Finn Hook. "Yeah? You hiding from someone?" There was an implicit 'too' at the end of her sentence. A loud, implicit 'too'.

Phoebe gave her a soft smile. "This was a nice thing you did for them."

"What makes you think it was me?"

"Because Bonnibel isn't that sentimental with anyone who isn't you. This wasn't an act of official recognition, this was you wanting to thank them while hiding your intent behind a veil of mirth of ritual."

Marceline bit her lip at the entirely correct observation. Though not a woman who intimidated easily Phoebe knew her too well, was too observant for her own good. It was remarkable how similar she and Bonnibel really were. No wonder they hate each other.

"How are you feeling, Marcy?"

But that wasn't the real question she was being asked, and with her only escape route blocked, for her back was to the curtain and there was no way she was risking True Death just to escape the sentiment that assaulted her now, the vampire broke. With a sigh of resignation she lifted her hand, palm facing upwards. Marceline furrowed her brow, narrowing her eyes and after a moment of intense concentration there was a spark, followed by a small flame. A small, white flame. It flickered and danced but remained stable, even as Phoebe approached her friend and held her hand over it. Marceline fought the instinct to pull it away, reminding the logical part of her mind, small as it was, that the flame princess knew all about her fire and what it could do, that her melting point wasn't an issue. It was a refreshing change of pace, and the vampire felt guilty for that thought immediately. When Phoebe pulled her hand back the musician took it as permission that she was excused, exhaling as the flame extinguished.

Now her friend's expression softened. "It was stable. You've been working on it?"

Marceline looked away, tilting her head as her eyes scanned the all-too-quiet stage. She frowned. "Cover your ears, Pheebs," she murmured softly. Without questioning the why or what, Phoebe did as she was bid, covering the sides of her head and wincing when it wasn't enough to muffle the high-pitched screech that followed. Once it was over she waited for the vampire's nod before lowering her hands. "Couldn't hear Bon. She promised she'd stop spying on me, but who knows if there's any of her little spybugs she forgot about around here-"

"Marceline, you don't need to justify it." Phoebe reassured her softly. It was a little known weakness that Princess Bubblegum's sensors had, little known in that only three people knew about the fact her microphones were easily susceptible to breaking when exposed to high frequencies. Such as the high-pitched screech of a vampire capable of echo-location when in bat form. "How are you two doing?"

To her surprise, and pleasure, Marceline smiled and it didn't seem forced. "Better. I think she's back, Phoebe. The way she was before all the gunk with her crown."

The fire elemental's eyebrows rose. "That's quite an assumption, Marcy. Is she really doing that much better?"

This time when Marceline looked over her shoulder it was towards the curtain. It was quick, just enough to reassure her that the monarchs were alone. "Check it," she whispered under her breath as she drew back her jacket and shirt sleeves. She held the vambracer up with a smile, rotating it for her friend to examine. "It's not public knowledge yet, but she bound her soul to mine."

There was so much to unpack there, but one thing stood out above the rest. "That's made from her crown, isn't it? She wasn't wearing it today.."

Marceline nodded, rolling her sleeves back down. "Demon soulbonds… you gotta give something up. Something important. I gotta do it too at some point, but she wanted me to have her royal gem so it'd protect me. Melted her crown to prove a point."

"Which was?"

Her hand wrapped around her bracer, feeling the gem through the sleeve. "That I'm more important to her than her role is."

Phoebe appraised her friend, the way she seemed nervous but unafraid. She thought of Princess Bubblegum at the podium, publicly declaring that the deed that had pushed Finn and Jake over the edge into knighthood was their rescuing of the immortal queen, even if she had understandably skimped on the details. How Bonnibel had smiled at the vampire, soft and loving, even as she performed her royal duties before an awed crowd. Perhaps. "Your fire became easier to summon after she gave you that, didn't it?" Marceline nodded. "Have you thought about why?"

The demon gave a half-shrug. "Yeah, a little, but… I've been pretty busy with everything. Figure I'll get to it later."

Phoebe considered admonishing her friend for pushing off an important conversation, but she seemed sincere. She also seemed calmer and happier. The elemental took it as a good sign and at face value. "Fair enough, girl. So what happens now?"

What happens now? In truth, Marceline hadn't really thought that far ahead. She was still getting accustomed to having Bonnibel, her Bonnibel, back, and both monarchs were getting used to one another all over again, relearning their roles in each other's life and working through the residual mental and emotional demons hiding around each corner. Neither immortal royal had had time to consider what this all truly meant, for that was the curse of being an immortal: time flows differently than it did for the rest of the world. It moved on a lot faster it seemed. "I dunno, Phoebe. Guess we haven't gotten there yet."

Not wanting Marceline to misconstrue her question, nor wanting to bring down the first good mood she had seen the musician in in a year, Phoebe changed gears. Far be it for her to be the party's buzzkill. "Fair enough," she repeated. "But I'm happy for you, Marcy. Both of you." She was, too. Princess Bubblegum may not be anywhere near her list of favorite people, but Marceline? Marceline was pretty high up there, and so long as the candy golem had truly changed she would keep her dislike of her to a dull roar.

Marceline relaxed, releasing the tension in her shoulders she hadn't even been aware she was keeping. "Thanks, Pheebs."

The princess chuckled. "At least now you can stop trying to kill her suitors at Princess Day."

Before Marceline, blushing at the entirely justifiable accusation, could point out that she had excellent control, thank you very much, another voice piped in, one that made her turn her head immediately. "Marcy! The boys are about to head back!" A pause. "Phoebe." And then Bonnibel was gone, back through the curtain.

"Sorry, Pheebs. Think I gotta say bye to peeps."

Phoebe bobbed her head, turning to follow her friend outside, even pausing when she did to fetch her parasol. "Of course. And Marceline?" The vampire looked up quizzically, unfolding her shield against the sun. "You look very nice."

Marceline grinned. "Not looking so bad yourself." The good humor lasted, even as both monarchs joined the outside world. In the time it had taken the two to catch up most of the party had dissipated. Including- "Where'd Jake run off to?" Then she noticed Lady was gone and it made sense. "Eh. Nevermind."

"Marce!" Her head turned to Finn, who stood hand-in-hand with Huntress Wizard. "We're heading out. Thanks a lot for all of this!"

She returned his wave, but didn't approach. After all, he was engrossed with their conversation, and while she would normally relish in the idea of taunting him and interrupting the couple's quality time something about her conversation with Phoebe rang in the back of her mind, and she found it quite distracting. Instead she left the task to Princess Bubblegum, taking only enough time to promise the flame princess that she would call her later, that the concert was still on and happening soon, and that she was okay and getting better. Even then the younger woman seemed unconvinced, but Marceline didn't fault her. With their positions reversed she would have been just as reticent. Phoebe had always shared her protective instinct, even if it was under drastically different circumstances.

Bonnibel waited until the fire delegate, panicked but simultaneously relieved, found Phoebe. Or, more accurately, was allowed to find her and escort her away from the highly flammable stage. Only then, when it seemed she wouldn't be interrupting their hushed whispers more, did Bonnibel climb the stage to take her vampire's hand. "This was a wonderful idea, Marcy."

"Yeah? Think so?"

Their fingers laced. "Oh, yes!"

"Because you got to posture in front of the other princess peeps?"

"No." Pause. "Well, yes. But I was referring to the overall event." The warm hand slid free as Bonnibel parted from her side, making for the table before the podium. Only one item remained left on it, and her hand rested on the black and red hilt fondly. "Finn couldn't figure out why you were the one presenting with me," she said with a wry smile.

Marceline snorted. "Who did he think should do it?"

"Pep."

That brought a cackle of laughter from the musician. "Pep? What's he gonna knight them with? The stick up his-"

"Regardless, it was a wonderful idea." Bonnibel's finger tapped the hilt of the sword before gingerly picking it up, returning to her mate's side.

She offered her two things: the sword and a kiss to her cheek. Marceline accepted the first proudly, the second with a blush. The kiss had been a little too close to her ear and she knew Bonnibel knew it. "Yeah. Not gonna lie, though, kinda glad it's done. It feels weird being on the other side of that."

Bonnibel chuckled, taking her queen's free hand to lead her back into the castle. Though she had seen fit to oversee the process of setting the ceremony in place it was below her to oversee its de-construction. That was, quite literally, what she had servants for, and was part of Peppermint Butler's long list of responsibilities. So long as everything managed to return to its proper and one true place she scarcely cared for the details. The day had been beautiful, but it had also been exhausting, despite how good it felt to return to her royal duties. And with Marcy by my side. Her lips upturned in a smile both at the thought, and because- We worked so well together, didn't we? Despite the scientist's return to her role she had managed to balance her responsibilities with those heartguts feelings she was growing to prize, and, if Marceline's relaxed disposition was any indication, she too saw the improvement. That conversation would have to wait for the privacy of their rooms, though; she was deadly serious that her queen and only her queen would see that softer side of her. That was a gift for her and her alone. "I can imagine." Unlike the vampire, Bonnibel relaxed only when the couple passed through the great hallways, into the more private areas of the castle where only authorized personnel were allowed to tread.

Even then, the tension only left her shoulders when the bedroom door clicked shut, a soft *thump* emanated from the bed when she sat on it, and strong, dextrous fingers slid over tense muscles and down to the small of her back. A sigh of relief escaped her, and when she felt Marceline's chin rest on her shoulder she leaned back, letting the arms encircle her. "How you doin', Bon?," she asked, hushed.

Bonnibel turned, resting her head on the vampire's shoulder with a hum. "It wasn't as draining as I was expecting," she admitted after taking a few precious moments to gather her thoughts.

"What, being the head boss of a big crowd o' weenies, or the whole thing?"

"Both," she sighed, exhaustion mingling with the simple comfort of a cool hand stroking down her hair, accentuated by a knowing laugh.

"Yeah, I dig it. You did great."

It was a gamble, but, more importantly, it was an opportunity and Bonnibel took it. "We worked well together," she whispered as her arms encircled her lover's waist. Perhaps it was to derive comfort. Perhaps it was just to give it.

Another hum escaped Marceline, but she didn't pull away. If nothing else, the younger immortal would count that as a victory. A bigger victory followed. "Yeah." But that was the extent of the agreement, and when she pulled away Bonnibel knew better than to push the matter. Perhaps, in the time when her crown ruled her she would have bristled at the perceived snub, but now that she was more enlightened she saw the situation with her eyes, not her ego; though Marceline had involved herself in Candy Kingdom matters before it had been centuries since she had done so in an official capacity beyond acting as a Princess Day escort, and never so publicly. Perhaps she sees what I do and must come to terms with it. How natural it all felt. The die had been cast, but it was Marceline's job to interpret the result.

Rather than push the singer for an answer - any answer - in her haste Bonnibel simply observed. Observed the careful way Marceline retrieved the sword's scabbard from where she had left it on the dresser that morning, observed the almost loving care she placed in sheathing it, observed the confidence she boasted as she carried it against her to the wall mount she had installed that morning when she declared her trophy didn't belong rusting in the seldom-used castle armory.

Bonnibel remembered her search for it the night before when she got home, how despite the way the princess had lamented that the blade could be anywhere Marceline had been drawn to it, locating it effortlessly in the armory among the common arms used ceremoniously, or wielded by semi-skilled Banana Guards. It hadn't sat right with Marceline, seeing it buried with her memories, and she had stated her claim to it, promising that she wouldn't abandon it again. Just as it did then, the very memory bought a smile to the princess and something like relief, something like pride, swelled within her. She had buried the sword in the armory hundreds of years ago, seeing it but once a year to maintain its condition. It had been reassuring, touching even, to see that somewhere deep down Marceline had missed it and hoped it meant that she missed all it had symbolized. To encourage this, both the hope and the intent behind it, she had given the older royal all she needed in both supplies and support to set an adequate mount for it, reassuring it under her breath that it was second only to her axe. It's good to see that she still feels the same way now.

But Bonnibel knew better; sometimes to encourage someone you needed to only ignore what they were doing. She left the vampire to her odd rituals, sliding on the bed as the bass was moved to lean against the dresser and Schwabl was greeted. Perhaps I'm not the only one learning to mix business with pleasure, she mused. "I forgot how beautiful you look in that outfit."

Marceline snickered, finally joining her on the bed. "Glad to know it still meets your exacting and weird standards." When her hands moved to remove the jacket, Bonnibel swatted them away and she rolled her eyes. "I feel like you're trying to tell me something, though."

"Yes. This is a special occasion, and I only get to see you wear this on special occasions." Which was a polite way for Bonnibel to say that when Marceline did make an actual effort to look presentable she was breath-taking, and she had every intention of enjoying the view for as long as her mate would indulge her.

Fortunately for Bonnibel, Marceline was quite amenable to indulging her whims. With a taunting snort she pressed against the bed's headboard, relieving herself of her boots. At least that much seemed acceptable. "Someone's in a good mood," she purred.

"Yes." Bonnibel's tone was matter-of-fact and all business, but her blush betrayed where her mind was wandering.

Yes, Marceline was appreciating this affect of their newly forged soulbond quite a bit and only hoped it was permanent. Or at least last a little bit longer. Except one thing held her back from taking advantage of it, one comment Phoebe had uttered in passing and probably meant nothing by. It had been ringing in the back of Marceline's mind, growing gradually louder until its chime could no longer be ignored. It was the crest of confluence, of her daring to ask 'what if?' to a situation that she had no right to know about, no right in that it was an ancient conversation, one that had caused a divide between her and Bonnibel hundreds of times over hundreds of years. It had ended at an uneasy truce, an agreement of 'don't ask, don't tell', and though it was Marceline's instinct not to rock this particular boat, for it had only meant heartache in the past, surely it must matter that things were different now. That they were different now. Gnawing on her lip she turned her head, watching the bookshelf in the hopes those dry texts could give her an answer to a situation with a conflict rooted not in intellectual knowledge, but in heartgut emotions. As if they could tell her how to sort through and separate what was irrational and possessive jealousy, and what was concern and love.

"What's wrong?"

Bonnibel didn't sound worried, exactly, but she did sound knowing. The question was more than an inquiry as to what Marceline was thinking about that had her so clearly distraught, it was a reassurance that it was okay that she was distraught in the first place. It was a promise that it was alright to speak up, that her feelings were valid and that the candy golem's days of rash condemnation and emotional manipulation were over. That she didn't need to run and hide anymore. Guess it's time to put that to the test, huh? "Just… something Pheebs said to me," she ventured cautiously, bracing for the acid.

"What did she say, Marcy?" Bonnibel's voice was tense, certainly, her eyes a bit more narrow in a way that made Marceline tense in time. And then the most curious thing happened: Bonnibel stopped, willing the ire out of her expression and the displeasure from her voice. It wasn't an instantaneous transition, nor was it a smooth change, but that made it mean all the more.

Because it hurt her, because it was difficult, Marceline knew she meant it. She's asking, not demanding. It was a relief, certainly, but it didn't feel particularly good. It made her fingers curl around the blankets of the freshly made bed. At least until a warm hand slid over her's. A simple reassurance, but an effective one. "She mentioned Princess Day. Suitors."

Bonnibel winced, and though Marceline only caught the gesture from the corner of her eye it was enough to make her turn. She needed to see it for herself. "...I see," she sighed. "It's alright, Marcy. I know. Ask."

"You-" Stopped. No. Don't tell. Ask. She's trying, so I gotta try too or I'm just being a dinger to her. "...Are you still getting them? The suitors harassing you?"

Bonnibel took in a deep breath, holding it as she closed her eyes in deep contemplation. She only released it when she stood, strolling to her bedroom phone, along with a quick promise to be right back. With a raised eyebrow Marceline watched her pick up the receiver and press it to her ear. After a short delay she sighed once more. "Pep? Do you have a moment?" A brief pause, but with the princess's back to her it was impossible for Marceline to discern her expression. "I need you to go to the Archives. The purple chest-" Pause. "Yes. With the-" Another pause. "Yes. Exactly." One final pause. "Thank you. We'll be in our chambers." The receiver was replaced, but Bonnibel didn't turn, only stared at the phone that her hand continued to rest on.

"...Bon?"

The nervousness snapped Bonnibel out of whatever train of thought she found herself on. She turned silently, returning to her spot on the bed. Marceline opened her mouth, perhaps to ask what was going on, perhaps to offer a reassurance, but whatever it was it fell short. "...I'm sorry." It was never, ever a good sign when Bonnibel began any conversation with an apology.

"...This is about Princess Day, isn't it?" She nodded, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. No, Marceline didn't like this disposition change, not at all, and to emphasize this fact she slid behind the younger, pulling her into an embrace and letting her head rest on the demon's chest. "It's okay, Bon." And if it's not we'll make it okay.

Bonnibel dropped her hand, nodding again. "It's… better if I show you." Marceline frowned, holding her closer. She knew her best friend, knew that any reassurances or false platitudes now would only exacerbate the younger woman's anxiety. If they were going to have any effect they would need to be sincere, and Marceline could only offer that sincerity if she understood the full scope of whatever it was that was causing her other half such distress. They stayed like that, tense but cuddled on their shared bed, up until the knock of the door signalled that it was time for whatever truth this was to come out. The vampire watched as Bonnibel slid free of her embrace, observed how Peppermint Butler purposefully avoided the queen's gaze as he exchanged hush whispers with his creator. Once a purple document chest exchanged hands the kingdom's major domo turned to leave, turning for just a moment to Marceline. His expression was of sorrow and pity, of apology. It made the red in her stomach turn.

"What's up, Bon?" The small chest was placed on the bed disdainfully, as if the very contents offended Bonnibel's sensibilities. With a scowl in its general direction the top was listed, revealing a pile of scrolls. That wasn't odd in of itself, but they had been thrown in without care, without any form of organization at all. Now that was odd. And disconcerting. Bonnibel's jaw set against the sight, and with disgust she snatched the first scroll that came to her grip, feeling its weathered and partially ripped parchment. When she opened her mouth, when words failed her, she gave up and turned away, offering the offending document to the vampire instead. Marceline lifted an eyebrow and gingerly took the scroll, unfurling it. It had been crumbled carelessly - perhaps even angrily - but its words were clear enough.

"I thought appointing you as my escort to Princess Day would discourage suitors," Bonnibel began quietly, without the nerve to look Marceline in the eye as she explained. "Even if Ooo was unaware of the nature of our relationship, or your role in the injury of delegates throughout the centuries, your reputation precedes you and you're quite gifted in the art of subtle intimidation. You occupied my time at the balls effectively and ran impressive crowd control to turn suitors away with acceptable tact. It was an unorthodox decision, I admit, but it seemed promising. At first."

Marceline's eyes widened as she read the scroll, dropping it back in the box before she could unintentionally incinerate it. "...This is what you didn't want Pep to tell me. In the kitchen. That you're still getting offers."

Another grimace, despite the musician's best efforts to keep the bitterness from her voice. Though she could feel jealousy surge through her, that demonic instinct demanding she make an example of these interlopers once and for all she pushed those urges back, hand coming to wrap around her vambracer to remind herself that unlike those losers she had been chosen, that Bonnibel was just as much her's now as she had always been Bonnibel's. Besides, how could Marceline fault her princess for the actions not just of others, but others who had a vested interest in courting her? She was beautiful, intelligent, and powerful. Always were a triple threat, weren't you, Bon? One day she might even see the humor in that thought.

"After awhile delegates and other princesses began approaching me through envoys and messengers. Without the pressure of a face-to-face interaction it was easier to delay meetings and bury requests in paperwork, but stalling could only ever last so long-"

"And you didn't wanna tell me 'cause you knew I'd tear them in half," Marceline concluded, trying to keep the emotions in her voice steady. This was hard enough for both of them without an unintentional outburst.

Bonnibel nodded, not trusting her voice at first. "I didn't understand at first, how it could be so painful for you to see me like that. You know I would always turn down every suitor, and I took your ire as childish and immature. That was my miscalculation. I neglected to take into account the complexity of a relationship rooted not in duty, but in love. I found your aggression and evaluation of our bond to be confusing, with strange and irrational rules governing our interactions. Whereas you saw an acceptable reaction to a very real threat I-"

"Saw a temper tantrum?" Marceline's smile was weak.

"I'm sorry," Bonnibel concurred. "After I appointed you my Champion and escort, as the years past… I began to understand, intellectually at least, why it must have caused you such pain. I was confused by the emotional intimacy, but I was afraid you'd-"

"Wig out? S'alright, Bon. I get it-"

"Please, Marceline." I need to say this. Marceline gave her a look of concern, but quieted. This secret was heavy, and she had been carrying it for so long. If Bonnibel needed to relieve it then she deserved the space. "I only understood that this hurt you, and that your reactions weren't your fault. I couldn't stop the suitors from attempting to court me, but I could protect you from that knowledge. I know it's not what you wanted, but-"

Enough. In fact, all too much, and Marceline took Bonnibel's hand, shoving the chest aside so that she had a place to sit. "Woah, it's okay, Bon," she murmured, holding her close. The younger woman nodded, but who knew if it was a true agreement or an automatic reflex and the inability to tell the difference caused a broken part of Marceline's heart to poke her in just the wrong way.

"I'm sorry, Marcy. I just…"

Marceline gave her a sad smile but tightened her embrace, scooting back until she was resting against the headboard once more. She could feel the shaking tension, how Bonnibel was repressing some deep emotion. "It's okay. You gotta let go, Bon. You'll feel better after."

Pink fingers curled around the black fabric of the jacket, their owner at a loss. "I don't know how."

"I know." Marceline nuzzled her lover, kissing her temple. "You'll get it. Still new to you. Just let it flow."

Green eyes slid shut, the keenest mind in Ooo turning over these warm reassurances. This wasn't how she expected this revelation to go. Where was the yelling? The accusations? "You're… not angered?"

"Kinda busy being worried about you."

That wasn't good enough. "Marceline…"

"Bon," she began kindly, "I can tell this has been jacking with you, probs for a long time. I'm not gonna lie, I would love to just go pay all those guys or whatevs a visit, but… I've been watching you work for a mega mondo-long time. I don't really get all the crud you do, and I won't lie, if this was like fifty years ago I'd be pretty ticked."

"But?," Bonnibel prompted, hopeful.

"But," Marceline concurred, "this isn't something that's happened since you made your offering, right?" The princess nodded, still not daring to look up. To hope that it would be alright after all. "But you're still pretty upset about it, so I gotta think that it comes from a non-messed up place."

"I didn't want to hurt you."

That wasn't the whole story, though. Marceline had known her best friend for hundreds of years, had seen empires rise and fall throughout the length of their relationship. Bonnibel might like to think her armor was impenetrable but the older woman had snuck in all the same, slipping through the seams while the candy golem's defense was still mounting. The scientist had tried to evict her, offended by the intrusion at first, but that crusade had been abandoned almost immediately. Marceline and Marceline alone was allowed to know the woman behind the crown, to see her relaxed and at ease, and she used this gift not to harm but to love her, to support her, to help her grow and heal from her lifelong trauma. After all, Bonnibel did the same for her.

It was because of this shared emotional intimacy that the musician knew there was more to this story than she was being told, could see it in the way her mate held her tension, how easily she had provided half of the truth. It was a tactic that worked well on most of the world: provide half the story after only mild prodding and the opponent thinks they got it all, too smug in their victory to see that they had been foiled. This would never work on Marceline, she simply knew Bonnibel too well and, unlike the rest of the world, her goals were not zero-sum. She won when Bonnibel won, and that was that. But if she's willing to tell me about this thing she thought would hurt me what is she so afraid of? The queen frowned. No. Not fear. If she was afraid she'd be way angrier. Then what? It wasn't disgust, it wasn't animosity. It was almost like- "Bon," Marceline prodded understandingly. If she wanted to get to the bottom of this she had to come not as her Champion and protector, but as her partner. "It's not just that, is it? What's up, BonBon?"

Bonnibel set her jaw, clenching her fist as if it would stifle whatever pent up emotion she was resisting. In a different setting Marceline would have chided her on repressing her emotions, but this wasn't about denying that she was allowed to feel just like everyone else, that she had needs and desires and that they were valid. This was about something bigger than a flat platitude encouraging her to open up. This was delicate and it required compassion. "It's okay," Marceline promised. Taking a gamble she reached up, cupping the pink woman's cheek before she could turn away. She ran her thumb over the warm skin, stroking under her ear. "This has been building for awhile. I can tell. This is what I'm here for, you know?"

And then Bonnibel laughed, short and bitter. "...I know, Marcy." Her voice was hoarse from the strain of holding back the truth after all these years. In the end, after years of keeping a titanium grip, it was broken by a warm, earnest reassurance. Three little words whispered in her ear from the woman she loved and it all fell apart. "You… can't understand," Bonnibel began carefully, every word chosen with her audience in mind. "Even when we were fighting, I was always Bonnibel to you. You knew me back when I was still a scavenger, before I cleaned up the toxic rivers and we made that cave for Neddy so I could stay close to him after the Candy Kingdom was officially founded. I have always been a person to you." She pulled away from the hand to glare at the document chest, its mere existence a bane to her existence.

Before the hatred could manifest into something darker Bonnibel felt herself being turned. Yes, looking at Marceline was a much better use of her time. There was just something about the genuine love in those garnet eyes, devoid of accusations or ulterior motives. "Though I have always been enamored with my own power I think we can both agree it was worse in the beginning. I abandoned you, slowly but surely, because…" There was that bitter chuckle again. "Well, you know. It was inexcusable, but I was too taken with my own pride and hubris to see it. I was just too in love with my role and my ability to demolish any obstacle in my way. You and I have always fought about Princess Day, but you quite effectively made your point with your stunt at the ball. In retrospect, I found it quite a relief when you began to accompany me as my escort. I actually began to enjoy the event, at least for awhile."

That was news to Marceline. "Why?"

"I hadn't realized how much of a burden it really was to entertain those suitors. When you began attending with me I was free of that responsibility because they never dared approach. You treated me with respect and deference to keep up the appearance of your stated role, of course, but you treated me as a person. It was refreshing. Until…"

"Until?"

"...They started sending their offers for my hand in letters. It bothered me, and at first I could not place why. You were unaware of it, certainly, or I would have heard about further assaults, and so I could not figure out why it was such a cruddy feeling to receive them. Eventually I realized that it's because they didn't want Bonnibel. They wanted Princess Bubblegum. The role. They didn't even bother to learn my name." She didn't blame Marceline for her poorly-concealed bewilderment. After all, hadn't that been what Princess Bubblegum had always professed to wanting as well? "You encourage my intellectual pursuits and pet projects," the scientist explained. "You've been there for every step of the way and save me from myself not because you have to but because you want to. Though I am not always appreciative of it, you make sure I take adequate care of myself and celebrate victories with me that others cannot or simply will not appreciate." Now her smile wasn't wry, it was genuine. Small, but genuine. "You may not always understand what I say when I explain my science exploits or other hobbies, but you still listen attentively and try to contribute."

"Well… yeah. It makes you happy, Bon. Isn't that kinda the point?"

"That's precisely the point, Marcy. I couldn't imagine these… suitors," she spat the word with such vitriol Marceline was impressed, "doing any of that. They didn't want me, they wanted my throne and my crown to cement their own power. I would have been a trophy. Under inter-kingdom law we would have needed to re-negotiate my own role within my own kingdom. I would be under intense scrutiny and have to justify every one of my projects and goals. I would have to justify myself." She turned her head, burying her face into Marceline's chest as the demon stroked down her hair. "While I have always been honest in that I never had any intention of allowing anyone to pursue me other than you it made me realize just… how stark the difference was between you and those who would try to become my consort. Once I got over the fury I was disgusted. With them, and with myself for not seeing it sooner."

With that Bonnibel exhaled forcefully, leaning against her queen. Whether it was in search of physical or emotional support it didn't matter; Marceline held her closer, covering her ear with one hand and wrapping the other around her middle. When that didn't elicit the desired response she lifted her hand, rubbing soothing circles into her back, tracing letters, designs, anything that she could think of to distract the most brilliant mind in Ooo from imploding in on itself. It hurt, seeing Bonnibel like this, knowing that a mixture of guilt and her own violent propensities had discouraged her from opening up to the vampire. How long had she been carrying this? How long had it been eating her from the inside out? Marceline wanted to reassure her, to apologize for not being there, but knew better; if Bonnibel was already feeling guilty about how she handled Princess Day in the first place, apologizing would only make it worse. That was a solution to a different problem. And Marceline was all about solving Bonnibel's problems when the princess wasn't in a position to.

"Does it still happen? The letters?" Marceline kept her tone conversational. The last thing she needed was for Bonnibel to shut down. She was just still too new to emotional vulnerability.

"Sometimes. Not quite as often… but enough that I would consider it a common occurrence." She tensed, or at least tried to, but strong, dextrous hands kneaded the tension right out of her. "It's not going to stop, Marcy. I've come to terms with that, as it is simply part of the territory of-"

"Being one of if not the most powerful monarchs in Ooo?," Marceline teased with a smirk.

That cracked a smile. "Precisely. It won't stop, but I've come to terms with it. Besides…" She reached out to the arm around her middle, pulling it away so that she could roll up the sleeves of the singer's dress shirt and jacket. The vambracer greeted her, the gem smooth and familiar under her palm. No words followed that trail, but they were unnecessary anyway. The part of Bonnibel's soul embedded within, the part that anchored their bond and tangible connection, warmed the crystal. Warmed her. Calmed her.

"Yeah," Marceline agreed. "Might not be something Ooo recognizes, but I get it. 'Sides, you're a brainlord. Maybe one day Ooo'll catch up to your mondo mega brain and get that this is a thing and they gotta deal with it or I get to go in and kick butts or at least play phantom. Prank war time? I mean, worked with you, right?," she laughed devilishly.

Bonnibel punched her shoulder, pulling away. "Jerk," she grumbled. As if she wasn't trying to restrain her smile.

The demon lifted her hands in defense, sniggering. "Come on, Bon. Control your violence!"

She was still containing her mirth as the princess retrieved the chest, crossing the room to slide it under her desk where it could do no further harm. This conversation had gone far too smoothly, and it was an effort to repress her paranoia. Was Marceline putting her at ease, just so she could hunt down whatever suitors or delegates she could? It wasn't out of the question, strictly speaking, but- She promised not to. Marcy doesn't break promises. What an odd feeling, trusting her queen not to maim and destroy. But I suppose this merits my meeting her halfway.

When she turned back around Marceline had already shed her jacket and was working on her vest. She was halfway to removing her slacks when she realized she had an appreciative audience. "Thought I'd put in the final touches for the concert," she quipped innocently, as if she couldn't feel green eyes boring into her. "No way I'm wearing this thing while I'm working on jams."

"Fair enough. But first." Marceline turned to see what this 'but first' was, but it came to her in the form of Bonnibel pushing her backwards, tumbling on the bed after her. Warm lips pressed against her own, dizzying her in a way that lasted even after the candy golem straightened herself, smiled coyly, and strolled for the door. "Shall we have dinner first?"

Marceline rolled her eyes as she finished re-buttoning her pants. Guess I can survive in this a little longer for ya, Bon. And yet, as she joined the younger woman, engaging in petty banter as they strolled to the kitchen, the conversation ate at her subconscious. Maybe demons had the right idea, removing a legal establishment because love was messy enough as it was. Sure, demon courtship was often bloody and violent, but there weren't mindgames to contend with, or double-standards to navigate. As far as the Nightosphere would be concerned, artificial or not, she and Bonnibel shared a soulbond now, and that was the end of it. The demon may have been raised in Ooo but certain aspects of her birthright homeland made infinitely more sense to her, not the least of which was the lack of true freedom, because for some weird reason mortals insisted on complicating everything for the sake of power, only to slap a bow on it and call it tradition. Even when they forgot the origin of their rituals they continued to justify and defend them, resisting tooth and nail any change they knew they had to make because change was scary and confusing.

Marceline, on the other hand, feared very little, least of all change. She did, however, fear losing Bonnibel. The idea of the younger woman in distress, in pain, was sickening and made her want to snarl. Even when they were stuck in the in-between, not quite friends but not yet more, Marceline knew that the worst possible fate she could imagine was going the rest of her unnatural existence without her best friend and so fought fang and claw against that fate. Yet here was Bonnibel, fighting a battle she thought better than to involve her lover in, hiding it not because she desired control but because it had hurt. It was a cruel irony. It was unfair. It was, at its heart, a problem.

And Marceline Abadeer was all about solving Bonnibel Bubblegum's problems.