Roy's continued story? Absolutely not. This story kinda needs a breather. Too much doom. Also, lotsa of glum stuff. The next part of the story is already 15 pages long and not even close to being completed. Here's this.
Sorry to disappoint.
Distance
K?D: Distance
Bowser Jr. sleeps silently in his crib and Bowser heaves a massive sigh of relief.
After a half an hour of feeding and burping his son, Bowser had to quickly switch tactics when Junior still continued to cry after his basic needs were met. So, with his brain running on caffeine, Bowser began pitifully humming his son a poorly made-up lullaby, rocking and bouncing him to ease his tears. Eventually, the infant succumbed to his exhausting tantrum. Bowser doubts his off-key tune helped at all, but he won't question it's integrity. Whatever worked had worked in the end.
Bowser takes one last long look down at his finicky son in his crib. One of Junior's tiny fists rests in his mouth and Bowser's too afraid to move it and risk waking him up, remnants of tear trails stain Junior's chubby cheeks, and his pudgy body steadily rises and falls to his lulled breathing. Bowser mumbles a gentle "good night" before tiptoeing towards the door. He nearly trips on a stuffed animal laying carelessly on the floor. Luckily, Bowser manages to catch himself before he takes a loud plunge which would surely wake up the entire castle, not just Junior.
Successfully making it to the door without disturbing his son's dreams, Bowser takes a giant step out and slowly closes the door behind him. He hears the soft click then waits a few more minutes to ensure Junior is absolutely sleeping peacefully in his crib and this isn't some ruse his son's trying to pull. Sweet silence fills the hall, no muffled fussing starts behind the door, no begging wails sound the alarms. Bowser's energy deflates as he exhales out all the tension in his body.
He rubs his tired eyes and decides it's time for him to get some sleep. He prepares to make the short trek back to his room when a low growl interrupts the stillness in the air. Bowser freezes in his tracks, body going stiff. It takes him an embarrassingly long minute to realize the noise came from his stomach and not some creeping monster lurking down the halls. A new problem has arisen and Bowser couldn't be more irritated. Fantastic, now he's hungry. Maybe he can ignore it and get a much needed goodnight sleep? It's not the first time he's left his stomach on empty to catch a few Z's.
Bowser's stomach growls angrily, immediately disagreeing with that idea. No way will he find sleep when he's so famished. With an annoyed huff directed towards his needy gut, Bowser changes his plotted course and abandons the thought of getting a decent amount of sleep. He heads in the direction of the kitchen.
The few guards who happen to be awake at this hour offer him perfunctory salutes followed by curious glances and raised brows. They're probably wondering what he's up to this time. Though no one is brave enough to ask him where he's going or what he's doing up at this hour. Bowser is grateful they don't, because he definitely wouldn't be able to answer their questions anyways. His mind is a scrambled mess of thoughts and plans for the morning. Besides, his minions are used to Bowser's habitual wandering at all hours of the night like a ghost stalking the dim halls.
Bowser stumbles into the empty kitchen, yawning audibly as he flicks the light switch. It's a spacious kitchen carved of stone containing a huge oven with rows of burners on top, two refrigerators, a microwave, and plenty of counter space with stools if Bowser ever felt inclined to eat in his kitchen. It's not as gigantic as the kitchen in the barracks for his minions, but the kitchen isn't feeding an entire army. Still, Bowser's never found the use for his roomy kitchen until now.
The amount of mouths to feed has nearly tripled in the last few months. At least the kitchen staff seems more eager to please their newest arrivals than be annoyed by it. They've grown bold, combining flavors and crafting beautiful dishes Bowser's never even heard of to test the complexity of the children's taste palettes. The chefs' talents really do go to waste on the King and now they can go all out since most of the children—with the exception of Wendy—are excited to try anything new.
Bowser admits the fine dining experience with delicate but pretty food too small to fit in his claws isn't his forte. He'd rather inhale an entire plate of pasta or scarf down a turkey leg than waste his time learning how to properly slurp a mussel that slithers down his throat like a slimy booger. He doesn't even use his soup spoon for actual soup which enrages Kamek to no end. Hours of etiquette classes wasted and forgotten.
Bowser drags his feet, completely in a daze and running on autopilot. He doesn't expect to run into someone else this late at night since all the kitchen staff are resting in the comfort of their beds at home or staying the night in the staff quarters. He barrels straight into something small, accidentally knocking them over.
"Hey! Watch it!"
Bowser looks down to find Iggy sprawled out onto the tile floor, glaring up at Bowser with flaring nostrils. He adjusts the thick-framed glasses on his snout, sending Bowser a strange combination of a look. Iggy obviously isn't thrilled to see him, but he also appears somewhat tentative. Is he afraid of Bowser scolding him for sneaking around this late at night?
"Sorry, kid. Didn't see you there," Bowser offers a friendly hand, but Iggy pointedly ignores it. He gets off the floor without any help and dusts himself off.
Hard to believe this is the same kid that was clinging to Bowser and crying like an infant a week ago. Sometimes Bowser wonders if he's making any progress with Iggy at all. It almost feels like nothing has changed since Iggy poured his heart out and displayed vulnerability to someone he apparently still deems a threat. What had happened to the Iggy he found in the supply closet?
Bowser shrugs off the brisk response and returns to his task of silencing his stomach. He walks to one of the fridges and yanks the door open with too much force, causing it to rock unsteadily. He ignores the tiny snickers coming from Iggy and scans the various piles of food, decides "the Hell with it" and pulls out the leftover chocolate cake from the dessert they had yesterday and a carton of milk.
He's a stern believer that a nice glass of cold milk compliments any cake or cookie. He sets them on the counter then walks past a confused Iggy towards the cabinets containing the dishes. He grabs two plates and two cups, digs through the silverware drawer for forks, then returns to the counter.
"Do you want any?" Bowser asks, but he already knows the answer. He grabbed twice as much dining ware for a reason. Iggy is eagerly eying the cake set in front of him, licking his lips like he can taste the cake on his tongue already. Iggy sobers at Bowser's question, mouth twisting into a scowl.
"I guess," Iggy replies, nonchalantly. He shrugs his shoulders to emphasize his supposed indifference. Bowser has to swallow down the laugh bubbling up his throat because he doesn't want to offend the child that's clearly still walking on a tight rope around him. Although, Iggy's attempts to hide his excitement are hilariously terrible. But if Iggy wants to play a silly game of pretend then Bowser will play along too.
Bowser decides tonight isn't about eating healthy or managing proportions. So he cuts two large slices for both of them and sets it on their plates. Then he takes a seat on one of the stools and pats the empty one beside him. Iggy pauses, narrows his eyes at Bowser like some sort of unspoken warning, before deciding cake greatly outweighs his distrust towards Bowser.
Bowser pours himself a glass of milk then gestures to the empty glass sitting on the counter beside Iggy's plate. Iggy nods silently and watches impatiently as Bowser pours him a glass too. Iggy mumbles a muted 'thank you' when Bowser sets it in front of him.
Iggy wastes no time, taking a hefty forkful of cake, and shoves it into his mouth. As soon as the chocolate explodes on his taste buds, Iggy's uncertainty and hesitation is replaced by a brief smile and pure euphoria as he chews his food quickly. He swallows it down then immediately goes in for another bite then another.
Bowser watches Iggy scarf down his cake in amusement. Chocolate frosting coats Iggy's lips and a few chocolate crumbs fall onto the counter due to Iggy's messy eating, but Iggy doesn't seem to care. He takes a giant gulp of milk, licking some of the chocolate off his lips. For once, Iggy's unguarded like their small chat in the supply closet. Bowser was afraid he'd never see the child with his walls down again.
Bowser grabs his fork then begins to enjoy his own slice. He chews thoughtfully, sneaking tiny glances at the child in pure bliss beside him. Bowser doesn't recall a time when Iggy appeared so… serene? Relaxed? Around him. Bowser gulps down some cold milk, satisfied by the sugary flavors of chocolate being amplified by the neutral taste of milk. He sets down his glass then readjusts his body in the swiveling stool to partially face Iggy.
"So I take it that you and Roy are fans of chocolate cake."
Bowser attempts casual conversation. Testing the boundaries the child has set. Iggy pauses, fork full of cake hovering in the air.
"Roy prefers red velvet cake," Iggy responds sharply.
His tone is a bit harsh for bringing up such an innocent observation. Bowser rests his cheek in the palm of his hand, too amused by Iggy's attitude and ignorance to be offended.
"Which is just chocolate cake with cream cheese icing," Bowser counters smugly.
Iggy's eyes appear to bulge out of his glasses. He almost drops the fork in his hands. He turns to Bowser desperately like he's just learned a life altering fact about the world.
"It is?"
It's such a dramatic response full of confusion and doubt for something so little. A humorous grin pulls at the corners of Bowser's mouth. He tries to contain his growing grin, but finds he can't in this situation. The little know-it-all has fallen for his older brother's antics without realizing it. Well, until now. Bowser only nods his confirmation, untrusting of himself to not howl with laughter the minute he opens his big mouth.
"I knew Roy was lying about it being made from animal's blood. He never liked to share his desserts with us," Iggy seethes before sighing defeatedly. "I blame myself, usually I'm on top of Roy's dumb lies."
Bowser snorts as Iggy continues rambling on about not catching Roy's lie sooner. It's a self-depreciating rant for being gullible that Bowser believes Iggy doesn't deserve. It's just older siblings pranking their younger more naïve siblings. Well, Bowser supposes it's something along those lines. He's never had any siblings, but he has noticed a few things during the children's permanent stay here.
They all clearly care for another, but getting on each other's nerves —purposely or not—seems to come with the territory. That, and staking their claim on their stuff; whether it's by writing their name on a toy or sticking an entire lollipop into their mouth so the other's grubby hands don't snatch it away. It must be like some unspoken rule between siblings Bowser's never heard of.
Bowser's reminded of the dessert debacle yesterday when Wendy had licked the top of her chocolate cake to claim ownership of it and to keep Roy from nabbing another bite while she wasn't looking. Unfortunately for her, Larry sat beside her and didn't care about the layer of saliva now coating the cake. He stuck his fork right into her piece, stole a gigantic chunk, and enjoyed it.
Wendy had turned bright red from anger and Ludwig had been appalled by Larry's disgusting behavior while the other children laughed gleefully. Bowser offered her a much larger slice to calm her tantrum before it began. A mistake on Bowser's part because Wendy immediately savored rubbing her new gigantic piece in her brothers' stunned faces before Kamek calmly chided her for bragging. At least the crisis was successfully averted.
These kids and their antics are definitely a new form of entertainment for Bowser.
Iggy is still going on and on when Bowser snaps back to reality. The conversation has now jumped to mischievous tactics Iggy has begun to conjure up in order to get sweet revenge on his older brother. Bowser sighs, scoops up a large bite of cake then shoves his own fork into Iggy's mouth to silence the kid. Iggy glares heatedly at Bowser, but the magical effect of chocolate cake melts away Iggy's irritation the moment he begins chewing the dessert.
"Just enjoy your two in the morning cake," Bowser says, followed by a drawn out yawn. "You can figure out ways to get back at him later."
Bowser pulls the fork out of Iggy's mouth when he's certain the kid won't start back up again. Iggy sits in silent pondering, swallowing down the huge amount of cake in his mouth. The only sound in the room is the humming of the refrigerator and the clinking of Bowser's fork against the plate as he stabs into his dessert for more. Bowser spares the child a glance while he chews his food. Iggy appears to be lost in thought, staring hard at his unmoving fork in his hands. Until whatever Iggy had been previously thinking about seems settle in his mind. He clears his throat awkwardly and briefly meets Bowser's intrigued gaze.
"To answer your question from before, chocolate cake is my favorite," Iggy begins, breaking eye contact to stare down at the fork he twirls absentmindedly between his fingers. "Mom used to get it from this bakery in town every year for my birthday. She would always have them spell my name wrong on purpose because Ludwig would always get so hilariously mad for me and Lemmy and Roy would get a kick out of it. One time, I was called Oggy for an entire week. It just feels familiar, y'know?"
A smile pulls at the corners off Iggy's chocolate covered mouth. It's a rare, warm, and genuine smile that renders Bowser speechless. It's the first time he's ever witnessed it worn on Iggy's tired face. He's immediately reminded of Lemmy, and if Iggy hadn't been wearing his glasses, the only indication of who was who would be Iggy's taller stature.
"I know it's kinda late, but it's nice to have chocolate cake for my birthday again."
Even Iggy's tone of voice is devoid of the animosity Bowser's accustomed to. It's calm, leveled, and softer as he reminiscences about happier moments in his short life. It's strangely unnerving, Iggy almost sounds older than he really is. It's as if he's experienced a lifetime worth of memories too daunting to recollect at once. Bowser supposes he has for someone so young.
Bowser shoves a gratuitous amount of cake into his mouth, taking the opportunity to recover from his initial shock. He properly processes what Iggy has said as he chews and then turns to the child curiously. Iggy's eyes are glazed over, a small smile still sits on his face as he's trapped in bittersweet memories.
"We missed your birthday?"
Iggy blinks, the thoughts clear, and he nods.
"Yeah, it was a few days ago. Actually, you've missed a couple birthdays since we've been here."
Why had none of them mentioned this earlier? Then Bowser's mind trails back to Lemmy insistently begging Bowser for chocolate cake three days ago. That was Lemmy being subtle about his intentions because Iggy probably didn't want to celebrate anything after the terrible year they've had. What's to celebrate when you've lost your parents? Unfortunately for Lemmy, Bowser had already planned dessert that day and declined to indulge Lemmy on his supposed craving. Bowser later made up for it three days after the fact.
Three days too late.
"Wait," Bowser pauses. "Who else's birthdays did I miss?"
"Ludwig and Roy."
Of course neither of them had told Bowser anything. Roy hadn't told him because, despite his ability to retain a casual conversation with Bowser, he doesn't trust Bowser in the slightest and Ludwig probably didn't want to pester Bowser with something as trivial as a birthday. Were all three of those times Lemmy requested a specific cake or meal because of someone's birthday? Bowser feels like a heartless jerk for ignoring the kid.
It dawns on Bowser that his own birthday had been two months ago. He winces at the thought. That explains the random lava cake in the familiar shape of a volcano oozing chocolate off the sides like it was pouring lava months back. The expecting glances his minions kept sending him as he engulfed half of the cake himself should have been a telling sign he was missing a memo or two. Bowser had originally thought it was Kamek trying to win the children over like some sort of self-declared challenge issued to Bowser. Especially since Kamek had been glaring intensely at him the entirety of the meal, waiting for a response that would never come.
"Dammit, I forgot my birthday," Bowser groans, sliding his free hand down his face.
"Well, they say the first thing that goes is your memory," Iggy retorts without an ounce of sympathy for Bowser's forgetfulness. Bowser sends the child a playful glare which only makes the mocking chocolate-covered smile on Iggy's face grow wider.
"You're the funny one, I take it?" Bowser comments dryly. Although, mentally he gives the kid points for being opportunistic.
"I would say I'm the smart one, but Ludwig seems to think he has a claim to that title", Iggy hums, tapping his fork against his chin. "I suppose I can settle for the funny one since Ludwig will never be able to steal that from me. He's too uptight."
"Come on, don't talk about your brother like that," Bowser scolds lightly, gently knocking his elbow into Iggy, jostling the kid on his stool.
There's a brief flicker of panic Bowser experiences when he realizes how chummy his gesture was and how it most likely will scare the kid off. To Bowser's utter surprise, Iggy giggles madly instead. Another sound Bowser's never heard before. Tonight is full of firsts. And here Bowser thought nothing had changed between them.
Iggy appears to be slowly letting him in, one centimeter at a time. It's a snail's pace, but at least Bowser's moving forward. However, Bowser decides he must tread cautiously despite gaining new ground. He cannot afford to slip up. One wrong move may send the kid back onto the defensive and all the doors Bowser had opened would slam shut in his face.
Iggy's laughing fit ceases and he fills his cheeks with cake.
"Y'know, Lemmy's birthday is six days away," Iggy says around a mouthful of food. He swallows before he continues his thought. "He likes vanilla cake with yellow frosting and rainbow sprinkles. Bonus points if the sprinkles are shaped like stars."
Bowser tucks that little fact safely in his brain. Six days away, huh? How fitting that the two of them would share a birthday in the same month.
"Are you sure you're not twins?" Bowser jokes. "Because that's a pretty crazy coincidence."
Iggy snorts, accompanied by an eye roll.
"It would be if we weren't two years apart. I'm the middle child, remember?"
"No," Bowser deadpans. "You said it yourself, my memory ain't what it used to be, kid."
Bowser points his fork at a bemused Iggy, emphasizing the importance of his next set of words.
"I'm getting up there in age," Bowser states bluntly. "So respect your elders."
Bowser's satisfied to witness the exact moment the joke lands. Iggy's eyes momentarily widen before they crinkle at the corners filling to the brim with mirth. He bursts into another chuckling fit. It's the kind of laughter that relieves the unspoken tension floating in the air. Iggy's laugh is infectious and light. He folds over, holding his stomach and continues to cackle wildly. Bowser grins along, taking a victorious bite of cake he believes he deserves.
"I'll keep that in mind," Iggy replies breathlessly. "Sorry, Old Man."
The playful banter continues. Iggy tosses Bowser a line, testing his quick-witted response to his sarcastic teasing. Bowser struggles to keep up at first, stumbling over his words before he finally catches on to the game. Bowser must be doing something right because he manages to discover Iggy snorts when he laughs extremely hard. A fact Bowser would have never known until tonight. It occurs to Bowser he's witnessed this scenario from an outsider's perspective before. It's a word game Lemmy and Iggy play amongst themselves which usually evolves into them hiding their painfully obvious snickers behind their tiny hands. To be included in such a strange game is somewhat heartwarming.
Although the game has one set back; Bowser's pride is slightly wounded from all the jabs it takes. Iggy is able to summon up an endless amount of comebacks without having to pause in between to craft more. Every single one of them relentlessly hits their intended target. It's all in good fun, Bowser reminds himself. All of Bowser's jokes can't be winners like Iggy's and he knows the kid doesn't mean most of it.
Bowser steals a quick glance at the counter as Iggy continues to chortle at Bowser's latest snarky reply. Bowser notices both of their plates only have remnants of chocolate crumbs left and the glasses in their cups are half-empty. Well, in this case, Bowser supposes they're half-full.
Bowser directs his attention towards the microwave. The digital clock glares brightly back at him. The vivid green set of numbers read "2:57". Bowser supposes it's almost time to call it a night if he wants to get any amount of sleep. His stomach is happy and silent and Iggy's sluggish movements tell Bowser the child will probably be out cold the moment his head touches a pillow.
With one last thing left to do, Bowser raises his glass of cold milk. Iggy stares quizzically at the liquid sloshing inside then directs that confusion to Bowser when the milk provides no answers.
"To your birthday," Bowser explains.
Iggy smiles then raises his own glass of milk.
"And yours," Iggy chimes in. "May you live another few years of your golden life."
"What did I say earlier about respecting the elderly?"
Iggy laughs.
"You're right. I'm sorry, Grandpa."
The click of their glasses fills the silence of the large but empty kitchen. Until they share a knowing glance and both break out into laughter.
It usually takes me five years to finish a story but I wrote this while I laid in bed feeling like garbage. I wasn't gonna post this but then thought, "Whatever. Why not? Ain't that bad."
Thanks to all the reviews and favorites. Can't believe people enjoy my self-indulgent word vomit.