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Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Mario or its franchise; it belongs to the Mushroom Kingdom. Lol, technically it belongs to Nintendo but...we all know they have time shares in the Mushroom Kingdom so yeah :)
Chapter Five
The palace was quiet for once. No impromptu crashes or loud arguing or name-calling or anything. His siblings were either off to themselves or in town; either way Ludwig couldn't care less. He was just glad they weren't exacerbating his painful situation. His headaches had only gotten worse as the days progressed and were taking their toll on his mood and behavior. He wanted to rip something apart. There was hardly a moment where he didn't feel that constant, agonizing drilling at the base of his skull and that worrisome swelling inside his head. It took a great deal of energy to abate the pain to the point where he could still think straight and function on a daily basis. He knew he'd have to get to the bottom of this malady, and soon, or it would drive him insane.
"Your Majesty?"
"What?" Ludwig snapped.
That was his tone as of late. He was pissed all the time. He hardly ever wanted to talk to anyone, ally or subordinate alike. He just wanted to pound something, as his younger brothers Roy and Morton so eloquently say at times.
"The prisoners are in the throne room." The Koopa answered, unperturbed.
That was the good thing about having a slew of androgynous reptilian creatures under his command; he didn't have to worry about stepping on any toes.
Ludwig smirked at the news, and rolled his tense shoulders in vain. They'd need a massage, a deep one, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. No matter. He would soon find out just what was causing him so much strife.
The 19 year old ruler strode into his throne room and saw two crotchety old beings clad in tattered, filthy black robes and dirty shoes. Their papery grey skin, littered with sores and bruises, spoke of their ill treatment. But perhaps their treatment had been too ill; there were only two when there should've been three.
"Where's the other rat?" Ludwig asked quietly.
"Dead." One of the Koopas reported.
"Shame."
Having one less source of information was the source of his regret. He hadn't cared to see to their needs, nor to feed or give water to them. But somehow two had survived til now, so he'd have to make due with them.
Certainly not much to them anymore, he noticed.
The two magicians weakly stood on shaking, wobbly legs. They tried to keep their posture erect but their backs had gotten feeble in their hunched cells. Gone were the imposing trio who struck fear into the hearts of the denizens of the Badlands, gone were the tall and menacing beings who preyed on others and wielded an arsenal of spells and curses in the words that they spoke and the flicks of their long and crooked fingers. They were gaunt in the face and emaciated. Their eyes, already black and soulless, now appeared hollow and empty. There was still a bit of fight within both of them, though, provoked from the depths of their weakened bodies at the sight of the young man on the throne.
"Kneel." Ludwig commanded.
"Impudent little demon!" One of the magicians spat in immediate response.
The Koopas that had escorted the magicians advanced on the ancient beings but Ludwig held up a hand. He had a feeling that if the reptilians were too rough, it'd be the end of this interrogation.
Once more he said, "Kneel before your king."
The malice that sparked in their eyes told Ludwig just how set they were on refusing him. He sighed. With languorous effort he extended his hand and seized their shoulders with his magical vectors. With unforgiving force he slammed them down onto their knees and relished a bit in the sound their fragile bones made against the smooth marble floor. He knew they had to be in immense pain, but other than a pair of horrid grimaces that peeled across their faces, they showed no sign of it.
"Let me make this short," Ludwig murmured, "You two were closest to the bastard, you knew things about him that even he didn't know."
"What of it?" The one called Grimus interrupted rudely.
Ludwig's eye twitched before he shut the both of them and took a breath. He rose slowly from his seat and took measured strides towards the bound magician. He stared evenly down at the bitter elder, then backhanded him swiftly across the face. There was more bone than muscle and tissue in his jaw, so it did sting the younger being's hand a bit, but it was nothing Ludwig would let on. He gazed down nonchalantly at the blood and saliva on his knuckles and wiped them on the quivering magician's cheek.
"You should be more respectful towards your gracious king," He advised in a low voice.
Grimus was quivering from the rage festering inside him but kept astoundingly quiet. His companion could not. Rhimes muttered something beside him with his head bowed and stirred the violent young man's wrath once more. Ludwig reached over and gripped the kneeling magician's face roughly between his thumb and fingers.
"What was that?" He asked.
His voice laden with muted curiosity that was starkly gentler than the way he was squeezing the man's bony face. Rhimes met his eyes and glowered at him, unafraid. Neither of them were afraid. This aggravated Ludwig for some reason, though he'd never been one to dwell on or relish in the fear of others. Power, he longed for, but he valued acquiescence out of respect rather than fear.
"You are not my king," Rhimes hissed out nastily.
Ludwig regarded him coldly, distantly, for a moment. He knew they'd be difficult, but something in his mind was not taking their reaction well at all. He fought a curling sneer from his lips and instead remained blank-faced as he shoved the magician Rhimes' face away.
"I am your king," He declared solemnly, "whether you like it or not. And as your king, I demand you lift whatever curse it is you or the bastard has lain upon me."
They didn't move, just scowled. Ludwig's brow arched delicately.
"Well?" He prompted.
"Our loyalty," Grimus announced, "Is to the Great King Bows-"
"Don't speak his name!" Ludwig snarled.
That cool he had been fighting to maintain shook when he impulsively snatched Grimus by his pale and sickly-thin throat. He supposed, in the back of his mind, that he ought not get so worked up, but at the moment he was seeing red. It was the headache clouding his judgement, inhibiting his patience. At any rate, he had the old man by the neck at eye level with his legs dragged the floor limply, as useless to him as a rag doll's.
"Since you're so stuck on the bastard," Ludwig whispered next to the magician's waxy ear, "Why don't you join him in death?"
Swiftly he channeled enough energy to equate to about 800 volts of electricity into the magicians brain, effectively slaying him. Ludwig looked on at his handiwork, saw the fallen magician with his eyes bulging and his mouth grotesquely agape and his veins spindly, blackened, and prickled beneath his cheeks and forehead; all he could think of was what a great waste this was. He'd not get his answers if he kept going at this rate.
Ludwig turned to Rhimes and dropped Grimus thoughtlessly to the ground.
"Now do you feel inclined to speak?" He asked harshly.
Rhimes looked at the dead magician stoically, no sign of sympathy or pity or the like. He turned his dead eyes onto Ludwig's sharp, emerald ones and began to chant. Low, hissing whispers came pouring almost soundlessly out of his mouth until his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body keeled over to the side, lifeless. Ludwig only sighed. He knew that incantation well, it was a spell to stop one's heart and off themselves. How convenient that the rat should know of it as well as he.
"Get rid of the bodies." He ordered of his guards.
Ludwig went over to his throne and sank back down into the large chair. They were right, this wasn't his throne, nor his palace, but for some reason he felt bound to this place. He frowned. The last thing he wanted was to remain in a place so reminiscent of the bastard. But until his own palace was finished in its construction, he'd have to remain here.
Again Ludwig looked at the dead magicians as his Koopas scooped them up. They were his greatest link to the bastard. Without them, he'd have to find some other way to find out what was ailing him and how to go about fixing it.
It was only out of fondness that he kept them at his side. They were young, too young for his tastes but not necessarily for the laws of his country. He knew how they felt about him but justified it in saying there were women much older that felt much more strongly than they. He knew they would do whatever he asked of them, no matter what, and rather than use that for his own depraved means as any lesser man would, he decided to encourage them to foster their own ambitions. Both of them refused to pursue a career that would distance them from his side, and so the both of them had become nurses.
His own studies centered around medicine and multi-species biology and anatomy. He was pursuing his dream of becoming a top-notch healer and was quite grateful to have the two helpful young things by his side, often to do the grunt work of retrieving files or sorting paperwork. He'd never seen anyone, or two for that matter, so pleased to run errands with him. They were twins, practically joined at the hip and glued to his side in all affairs. He didn't mind their clinging so long as they were bettering themselves and helping out.
Right now he was in town, surveying some of his people as they worked on building a new infirmary within the capital city. It would be bigger, cleaner, and more efficient than the last one. The other one was near the edge of town, hardly accessible, and with its archaic structuring and equipment, it was long-since outdated.
"It's coming along nicely, wouldn't you say Majesty?" One of the girls, Mina, spoke pleasantly.
Peasley turned to his left and nodded at the girl on that arm. The other, not to be ignored, had to chip in, too.
Nina said, "It'll be complete once you are there!"
The prince smiled softly and said, "Perhaps you mean to say when it's fully staffed with all the doctors and nurses and hands. I am but one of many physicians, and not even that, not yet."
His training had only just gotten underway about a month ago, and though he learned incredibly fast, he still had a long way to go before he was on par with the rest of the medical world of Bean Kingdom.
Not to be outdone, Mina praised, "So humble!"
"But we all know, Majesty, that you will be the best, once your training is done." Nina added quickly.
"Indeed," Mina agreed, "There is none so talented as you, Majesty, to be a ruler and general and physician all in one!"
And at that, both the girls stood up on their toes and kissed him on the cheek simultaneously. They had a habit of doing that. He smiled a little but shrugged out of their embrace and turned them both by the waists to face him. Tucking a finger under their chins, he gazed at them both alternately.
"Mina, Nina," He said, "I believe it is time for you to return to the Academy."
"No!"
"We don't have to go!"
Peasley said with a wry smile, "Oh, but you do want to help me, don't you?"
"Of course!" They spoke earnestly as one.
He said, "Then you must return and excel in all your classes. Only the best may earn a place at my side."
Peasley didn't give them time to protest anymore, he took one of their hands and kissed them fondly, then dipped his head and left for the palace. The truth was, he needed to be alone. He was doing very well with his training, that was true, and the citizens of Bean Kingdom felt almost the same way as his two chickens that followed him around. The turmoil with Cackletta had been resolved, she was locked in a maximum security cell warded with twenty different levels of magical seals. The Dark King was dead, thanks in no small part to his best friend. Life was calming down and he was on top of it all.
So why do I feel...
He couldn't explain it. There was a tugging feeling inside of him, something he couldn't quite put into words but was prevalent enough to give conscious thought to. He knew it was something to do with his parents, and so it was no surprise to him when he found himself being inexplicably pulled towards their wing of the palace once he arrived. He approached their bedroom door with severe caution. He hadn't been there in quite some time.
What is this feeling? Why can't I be content? Everything's going really great so why...why...
Peasley pulled back both of the ornate wooden doors and shivered at the low, resounding groan they emitted as he entered. He shut the carefully behind him, then turned round.
He started to cry.
At first he didn't know it, no, he was much too focused on the bed. The lavish four-poster canopy furnishing was just as his mother would have liked it, made up with its pillows straight and neat and the corners of the comforter safely above the beige carpet floor. The room still smelled faintly of them, mixed with the scents of dust and age and stale air. He crossed the room soundlessly and caught sight of himself in the vanity mirror. Only then did he see the steady stream of tears flowing down his face, pooling under his chin and dripping onto his collared shirt. He saw his mother in his eyes and in his mouth, though his wasn't curved softly in muted amusement as hers often was. He lacked his father's particularly vivid, olive-green hue and was sad for it, for that was the main thing that tied him to his sire. In personality, he had his father's with and sly charm, his mother's keen fashion sense and tender heart.
He had to look away.
On the vanity's surface top he first saw his father's gloves. A bit yellowed and coated in dust they were. He gingerly plucked them from the vanity with trembling hands and the lump in the back of his throat grew. Peasley stroked careful fingers over the thick, silk items and slowly brought them to his nose: they still bore traces of his sire's cologne. He closed his eyes and brushed them against his cheek as kindly as his father would and then shuddered when a jolt of emotion ricocheted from his heart to his head and back again. He dropped the gloves and traded them for a glass tube of his mother's lipstick. A gift from the plumber Mario they were, a token of his appreciation for some kindness or the other of his mother's. The shade was a ripe lime that went so well with her natural pigment and many a time he recalled seeing the color spread across her lips as she donned a bright and joyful smile. He picked the tube up almost reverently, uncapped it, and ran his thumb along the top of the stick. He smeared the color between the pad of his thumb and his index finger and blinked, pushing out another spring of tears in doing so.
He carried the tube with him over to the bed. He walked slowly, so slowly, and it felt more like he was drifting, floating. He felt faint in the head and heart and could vaguely notice his body trembling. He could see it when he extended one hand to pull back the sheer white canopy, could feel it when his legs made those last few steps towards the bed.
Spread along their places were the last outfit he ever saw them in. On his mother's side was her long, elegant green gown. Forest green and shimmery with long sleeves and a lace trimmed bodice, it was the quintessential garment of grace, beauty, benevolence. It spoke of her love and her soft heart. On his father's side was his long grey coat, the one that swallowed Peasley up when he was younger and went into his father's arms for a hug. He started to run a shaking hand over the shiny black buttons but stopped and crumpled his fist. Shedding his boots in an instant, he climbed up onto the bed and lay on his side, right between the two of their garments like he used to when he was troubled or scared or lonely.
There was a time, when I got older, where the thought of laying with them again seemed childish, immature...if only I could just have one moment with them, just five seconds even...
So often he had taken his parents for granted. They were always quite close, but there were times when he saw fit to be embarrassed, or even ashamed of them. His mother, sweet as she was, made a habit of picking at his hair and clothes and nagging him in front of everyone. And his father was not exempt, what with his great big barrel chest and muscled arms. He was big and clumsy at times, and often could not do the fine dances that were commonplace at parties and gatherings. While the kingdom laughed merrily with their king, Peasley had been ashamed and embarrassed. If only his father were here to wrap his great big clumsy arms around him now.
Peasley sniffed and reached behind him to grab his father's cloak, wrapping the thing around him tightly. This would have to do. He was shaking, tears were falling relentlessly, he was ruining his mother's dress as he held it tightly to himself and buried his face in it. He was grieving. Had he not grieved til now? Of course not. There was no time to. Not on the day of the incident, what with the palace being thrown into a tizzy. He'd been struck himself, sick to his stomach and writhing in agony.
"...mama..." He whispered, an echo of his cries on that fateful day, "...papa..."
His parents had never come to him.
His parents had died.
They were gone and they were never ever coming back. God, had he never grieved til now? They were gone. He was alone now, no more of his mother's kisses, his father's embraces. Gone.
No.
Peasley sat up suddenly, eyes puffy but determined. His parents, they wouldn't want him to wallow. He had not grieved til now; he had responsibilities. So many had lost relatives in that Great War that he'd pushed his own loss aside and had stood strong for his people. He had to take the throne, he had to protect them in a world where the Dark King reigned. There was no Dark King now, but there was still work to be done so he couldn't wallow.
Father, he would want me to fulfill my every ambition, Peasley knew, and mother, she loved this kingdom with her whole heart. She would want me to take care of her people. And so I shall. But right now.
Peasley's body shook with another bout of sadness and he bit the inside of his lip, pressed his lips together so as not to cry. He laid back down in his parents' bed and dove under the sheets. Right now he had to grieve.
If someone were to ask if she hated her older brother, she'd probably have to say no. Not really. Back when he was a bit younger and had more of a heart and less of an ego, he'd given her a portable radio. The thing was wonderful and was coming in handy a lot today. Or rather, tonight, seeing as how it'd gotten dark since she'd left the Badlands. She'd put some planning into this trip; she'd found two maps on where her destination was located and had packed enough provisions so that she wouldn't need to stop. What she hadn't fully taken into account, however, was how much of a drag traveling with her brother could be. She wanted to do this alone, but since that wasn't possible she'd only chosen to take Roy. Between his obnoxious attitude in general and his tendency to take more than his share, they kept arguing over which route they should take and were almost out of food and water.
But that's where the music came in.
So long as she had her radio, Wendy was alright. She knew that they were at least in the vicinity of their destination. She and Roy had set out east of the Badlands very early that morning. The maps said they were close but neither could find it. There was a town they'd passed through, but it was like a ghost town. Not a soul was present for them to ask directions from.
Not that Roy would've bothered, Wendy thought.
She walked alongside her horse while Roy did the same ahead of her. In truth she admired her brother, to an extent. He was tall and lean, athletic and slightly muscular but not too beefy like Morton. His haircut was kinda played out in her opinion, but his face wasn't bad to look at. As far as brothers went, he could've been more unfortunate. And he did have his ways. Sometimes he'd have moments where he'd exhibit thoughtful, considerate, or even kind behavior. He just liked to pretend he was all hard and tough because he wanted to be more like his eldest brother Ludwig. She looked up to him, too, just not as much as she used to.
He's gotten selfish, secretive, cruel, she mused, I wonder if this power is going to even him out now that he's gotten what he wants. Or will it only make him worse? More cruel and selfish?
"We're going in fuckin' circles, yo!" Came Roy's frustrated proclamation.
Wendy rolled her eyes and turned her radio down atop the horse. That was another thing. Her older brother had started to curse a lot more.
"You know you're not supposed to swear like that." she reminded him.
He snorted. "Says who?"
"Ludwig." She shot back.
"Well he ain't here, is he?" Roy replied, "Besides, he swears more than me. You should hear him sometime."
Wendy didn't doubt his words, in either case. She could recall walking past this particular clearing once or twice before. She sighed and gazed up at the rapidly darkening evening sky, then plopped down to sit in the clearing.
"We have been going in circles." She muttered.
"Told ya'." Roy shrugged.
"This was a blank trip." Wendy frowned.
"Yeah, pretty much." Roy agreed.
Wendy shivered, then held her arms around her knees. She dipped her head against her legs and gazed off to the side, thinking. The map said the place was just uphill, but they went uphill and saw nothing. All the area around the hill yielded no results either. She was feeling frustrated and despondent. Roy could see this in his little sister and sighed a bit to himself. He loved all his siblings, annoying as they were to him, especially his sister. She was someone he felt he needed to protect, like Lemmy and Larry and Iggy. He didn't want to see her down, it made him feel all funny inside.
"Hey," He said in his softest voice, "Don't act like that."
He tied their horses to a tree and came to sit by the girl. Roy ran a hair through his cropped pink hair and then wrapped an arm loosely around her shoulders. Finally Wendy looked up at him with surprised blue eyes.
Now this is what I was talking about, she thought, I knew he wasn't a complete tool.
She leaned into her brother and said, "So I guess we gotta go back to the palace, right?"
Roy shrugged. "Yeah, but we'll think of something else to get Lu better."
"You think so?" Wendy questioned.
Roy just hunched his shoulders again. He stared straight ahead but out the corner of his eye, he could see Wendy's expression relax, lose some of that forlorn weight. It brought him some relief.
"Baby sister can I-"
"Don't call me that." Wendy cut in.
Roy smirked and asked, "Can I ask you something personal then, Wen?"
"I guess." Wendy answered warily.
"Have you ever, uh," He struggled. "I mean, you ever um."
Now Wendy was curious. She didn't see her brother as often as she used to since the palace was a whole lot bigger than the bunker, so she was intrigued with whatever could ruffle him enough to make him blush.
"You ever...let that punk touch you?" He muttered. "I mean...like touch you?"
Wendy colored next and snapped, "No! Why would you think that?"
"I ain't think nothin'," Roy shot back, "I was just making sure."
"For what?" She hissed, "Did Ludwig put you up to that?"
"No."
"Are you keeping tabs on me now?" She demanded.
Roy rolled his eyes. "No. Wen, just-"
"What are you, his minion?" She jeered.
Roy narrowed his eyes and told her, "Would you shut ya' trap for one second so I can explain? Damn."
"Okay," She said, folding her arms heatedly, "I'm listening."
Roy opened his mouth but suddenly Wendy's baby blue eyes widened at the sight of something ghastly behind her brother. Roy turned his head and saw the thing hovering, then was promptly licked right in the face by its over-sized red tongue.
"Ugh! Gross!" Roy frowned.
The thing chuckled in a high pitched tone, then started racing away. Er, floating away.
"Get back here, you little motherfucker!" Roy growled.
That's another thing, Wendy noted, Roy's temper is so much shorter. Or am I just reading too much into this?
As her brother chased the strange floating creature, Wendy untied the horses and packed up their belongings. She hurried to where her brother's footfalls were resounding throughout the empty woods and soon came upon that same hilltop from before. Roy was chasing the white thing when it suddenly disappeared into thin air, right at the top of the hill. Poor Roy, he went running after it and was met with sturdy resistance as his body crashed into something that the naked eye could not perceive.
"What the hell?" Roy muttered as he picked himself up.
Wendy was in awe as well. He stepped back and stood beside Wendy as an ancient but elegant, Victorian-era mansion began to ripple into view. The doors on it swung open and from it came striding out a man that made butterflies flutter in the pit of a certain blonde-haired young girl.
Long black hair with a streak of dark grey that was clipped back off to the side. Violet eyes that entranced her and a dangerous smile that spoke of darkness and this person's love of it. a small, sharpened tooth glinted at her from the corner of his mouth and stirred something inside her that Munson had left yet unkindled. She swallowed when she saw the rest of his body; slight frame, able build, garbed in sharp black clothing of the same era as his estate. He saw her staring and closed his mouth in a smirk, lifting his brow knowingly. She knew what this was; the makings a crush.
"Lovely children shouldn't be out after dark," This being spoke, striding right up to them.
Offended, Roy spat, "I ain't no child, yo."
Wendy resisted the urge to roll her eyes and said, "Are you-"
"King Boo," The male spoke with that same amused smirk.
He bowed for Roy and reached out to take Wendy's hand, then turned it palm side up and licked it. Wendy jerked her hand back, but couldn't deny that she'd slightly enjoyed the strange contact. She wiped her hand on her red snake-skin pants nervously.
"I'm Wendy," The girl greeted in turn, "And this is my brother Roy. We came to you because um, my brother is quite sick."
"Well I'm no doctor, little girl," King Boo drawled, "But I'd have to say your brother looks fine to me. That is, if you mind not the odd color of his hair."
"Ain't nothin' wrong with my hair," Roy sneered.
Wendy ignored him.
"This isn't the brother I'm referring to," She informed the king, "His name is Ludwig. I believe you know him well?"
King Boo's violet eyes alighted. "Ah! Ludwig! My boy, how is he?"
"He's sick," Wendy stated again, "That's why we came to you. We thought you might be close to him?"
She voiced her response as a question, which was highly indicative of her insecurity in her own research on the matter. King Boo's eyes grew fond for a moment as he spoke again.
"Yes, very close," He said.
"So can you help us or what?" Roy blurted impatiently.
Wendy nudged her brother and gave him a reproachful look, to which he mouthed, 'what?' as if he didn't see the error in his behavior. King Boo was all the more amused.
"What would you have me do?" King Boo wanted to know.
"Could you come back with us?" Wendy implored.
"As I've said, I'm not a doctor," King Boo reminded her.
"Yeah, but, this isn't a sickness. Ludwig never gets sick." Wendy stated, "Not like that kind of sick. I think it's something else, like a curse or something."
"Ah." King Boo hummed.
Something seemed to dawn on him then.
"I believe I know what the problem is," He said, "And I may be able to help my dear enforcer."
"Great!" Wendy beamed. "So you'll come back with us? We should make it there by morning if we leave now."
"Oh, nonsense!" King Boo interrupted, "You must stay the night! It's already late, and I've got supper almost finished."
"Wait a minute," Roy perked, "You got eats?"
"No, Roy, we have to get back to the palace to help Ludwig." Wendy argued.
Roy scoffed and said, "One day ain't gonna' kill him. Besides, I'm starvin' yo."
She was hungry, too, and she really didn't think that one day would hurt, as Roy had said. She glanced up at King Boo.
"Are you sure we wouldn't be imposing?" She asked, "We could stay at an inn."
At that word Roy's face twisted into a perturbed scowl. King Boo's expression gave way to something mischievous as he gazed down at the fifteen-year-old.
"No, children, stay the night." He coaxed, ushering them inside, "I insist."
And suddenly Roy lost his insatiable appetite.
A/N: These chapters are quite short, I know. If I do longer ones, the wait would be unbearable, for both you and me, so I must make due with doing a little at a time.
Next chapter we will check in with Luigi and Daisy, and see how Ludwig handles his siblings' meddling once more. And oh Wendy; I empathize with her because I had a ton of crushes on older dudes when I was a teenager, I guess now that I'm twenty it's justified, haha.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please tell me what you think so far! Like I said, everything will be sort of copacetic up until about three or four chapters from now, when there is a time skip of about a month and things get dark, so enjoy the light while it lasts!
Until next time...
~DymondGold~