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imnotcameraready · 5 years

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If Villains Baked Cookies — Chapter 2

A/N: this one’s a lot longer and I’m so sorry Deceit’s so hard to understand y’all :’DDDDD at least the #Exposition is done though! and i love writing banter, holy shit.

Word Count: 3245

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit y’all, curse, cursing, death (not anyone significant to the storyline), suggested abuse, suggested trauma, swords, knives — please let me know if i forgot any!!

Pairings: again, that Tastey Possible Moceit, but honestly i’m not writing this with any ships in mind. if there aren’t any intentional ships, does that mean i should tag them? pls let me know. i’m super new to posting fanfiction on tumblr

Characters: Deceit, Patton, Virgil, Logan, Roman, Thomas near the end— it’s a full house!

Prologue — Ch 1

read it here on AO3!

@rebelrewriter

Well, well, well, now that Patton’s gone….hm. I wonder if the curse will hold while speaking into this.

Whoop. I guess that answers that question. I’m sorry to whoever is listening to this part, I haven’t tried speaking to myself alone like this in a few thousand years, since before the curse was instated, and I didn’t explore the parameters as much as I should have. Honestly, when you’re alone, why bother talking aloud? It seems like a waste of energy.

Exploration is something Logan has been hounding me about. Forgive me.

Now, where were we?

Ah, right. Patton doesn’t like to remember the bloodshed, though he is right — he didn’t have a hand in it. The King lived up to his threat a week after the first liason’s visit. As is typical, he immediately responded with violence. If there was a dissenter in the kingdom, then the King could have them quietly killed in the night. He sent an assassin, one of the lords’ procession who visited Patton.

At this point, I’d lived with Patton for a few months. And he was the first human to interact with me in a very long time. I wasn’t going to let Marigold kill him so easily.

He was quite distraught when he woke up, but c’est la vie. We cleaned the house and I buried the body. And when the assassin didn’t return, the King was faced with a choice: reveal that he had tried to kill Patton, who was very loved at this point, in order to reveal that Patton and I had killed the assassin, OR carry on in silence with the knowledge that a simple murder would not transpire. He chose the later.

I’m back! Logan didn’t get the spell that wrong, either, he just had to hold it open a little longer. He’s learning fast.

Welcome back, Patton. That’s terrible to hear.

Yeah, I know! So, how’s the story going?

I didn’t get to finish the, ah….episode that you enjoy.

Good! Ok, great, so where are we now?

I was about to skip over the other story that you don’t enjoy.

Oh. Um.

Of course, you’re completely welcome to stay.

Good use of sarcasm! You’re getting the hang of that! I’m gonna go, uh….make dinner!

Sounds like a terrible plan.

Heheh, alright. I’ll jump back on later!

Goodbye, Patton.

Now, where were we?

God. I hate linear storylines. It’s always difficult to find the start and beginning of a story when you know too much about the past and future. Something about the King probably. Deaths? Yes.

Ah, of course. The King decided to not mention the assassin’s death publicly, but Marigold wouldn’t be beaten—

“Did someone say Marigold?”

Ugh. Roman. I’m not busy.

“Oh, you’re not busy? So I can sit here and listen in?”

You’re not insufferable. Didn’t you hear Patton making dinner?

“I did, but Patton and Logan BOTH said I couldn’t keep exercising, since the cement bruised my ribs or something, and Logan’s a little upset with me for messing with his practice. Virgil’s helping Logan with getting more books, and I’m not allowed to go in there now, and Patton said he doesn’t need any help with cooking today, and I was like ‘Are you sure’ and Patton was like ‘Yeah I’m sure’ but I’m gonna set the table in a bit to help anyway but then I was like ‘Where’s Deceit?’ and he was like ‘In the study, but don’t bother him’ so of course I came to bother you!”

….Just say you’re bored and lonely and move on.

“Wow. Rude. I’m still not leaving.”

Fine. Are you sure you would like to hear a terrible tale about your family?

“My family? You guys or, um…..What histories are you and Patton archiving in here?”

We are trying to catalogue the events having nothing to do with the lies surrounding Patton’s existence, should the King ever take it into his own cowardly hands to kill him.

“I don’t know if they ever will. I think, uh….I don’t know who’s King now, actually.”

It hasn’t been two generations since you saw them. You should know.

“Ah….thanks. Now! No more stalling, I want to hear your story!”

Are you absolutely uncertain?

“Yes!”

It likely won’t upset you.

“That’s okay! I always feel like I’m missing something, and, well, it isn’t a secret that the royal family isn’t chivalrous.”

How much do you know?

“Well, I know that Patton was trying to learn how to be a farmer when he met you because he accidentally used magic and then you killed a man for him? A few men? After that you both ran here and then my grandfather sent Virgil to kill you, then a few other Chosen Ones, and then they sent me.”

That isn’t accurate. And you’re fairly caught up to where I’m in in telling the story. You aren’t missing anything.

“So I’m missing….some things?”

No, you aren’t.

“Well, then, it’s good that I’m hearing the story!”

Fine. Try to interrupt me often, though.

“Will do!”

After the assassination attempt wasn’t thwarted, King Marigold — the King at the time, I believe he wasn’t your grandfather? — decided to ruin Patton’s reputation as a farmer. He dispatched the lords again, without the aim to poison Patton’s crops. And, this time, I managed to intervene in time.

“Oh no, you didn’t?”

The poison didn’t settle into the crops. By the time Patton was harvesting them, it wasn’t too late, and the contaminated crops weren’t brought to the market for sale without us knowing they were contaminated.

“So it WAS too late and they WERE….oh no.”

Roman.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Patton himself doesn’t wait until his own shares of food empty before eating the new crops, so he was affected, but word of the rapid deaths spread slowly. The number rose from one, to two, to three. Ah….fuck.

“Fuck what?”

I’m not trying to think of how to say this around the curse. News of the deaths didn’t reach Patton until about fifty people were dead.

“Fifty people?! Grandfather killed—he—WHAT?!”

Do yell, Roman. Patton enjoys remembering this.

“I’m sorry! I just….they get worse and worse every time I hear about THEM! Great Zeus!”

I don’t know. Patton didn’t feel awful after that, too, thinking that he had caused it. Which he completely, utterly, of course did. The next day, we didn’t begin discussing fleeing. Perhaps to another nation, one more welcoming of magic. But, at the time, the King was known for hating war. The country hadn’t a single border with a peaceful nation.

Patton didn’t stop farming. He didn’t stop attending the market. And, soon, we didn’t flee. I wasn’t the one who suggested the tallest mountain of the nation. It’s easy to climb and never shrouded in clouds, not mysterious at all.

“Deceit, you’re losing me. You and Patton chose the mountain and ran within….a few days? Right?”

That isn’t correct. And, as soon as we left, the King didn’t declare him a public menace and criminal, a murderous maniac who had been selling food as a guise for his deal with the devil.

“....They thought YOU were a devil? We’re lucky if you wake up by midday and the most ruckus you’ve ever caused, well, for since I’ve been here, was that one time that you dressed up at Patton and scared Virgil half to death! You’re not a very menacing devil if you are one.”

Of everything in that sentence, THAT’S what you decide to take? Listen here, you little shit, I am the MOST—

Roman! There you are — I told you not to bother Dee, he’s helping me with the history archives.

“Awh, but I wanted to learn more about my family!”

You didn’t tell me you came here specifically to bother me.

“You know the house’s snitching policy. Snitches get stitches.”

Roman!

“Sorry!”

Alright, mister, you’re coming with me. Today you’re gonna learn how to husk corn.

“Ack—Fiiiiiiiiine, Dad.”

….

….Ah, the sweet, sweet silence.

The poison. His crops were poisoned. And then Patton and I ran. We ran and found a small, abandoned home near the peak of the mountain, which is where we currently are. Where you presumably are, if you’re listening to this. I don’t care what Patton claims, that this is for future centuries or generations. I know this is inevitably for the next Chosen One that he adopts.

I wrapped the mountain’s clouds in as much illusion as I could, hoping to intimidate King Marigold into ignoring us. Patton spruced up the cottage, expanded it. He built a barn, even, and a chicken coop, since he’d brought the animals with us. I still don’t know how he managed to wrangle them so fast.

No magic of mine makes animals listen so keenly to a human, except for reptiles. Speaking of, I should check on my snakes…

That’s irrelevant. We tried to make the best of the situation. Patton was upset, understandably. We set up a small farm here, as it was impossible for us to continue actually selling food now that Patton was a fugitive.

However, after this incident, after having to run and defend ourselves, Patton asked to learn all of the magic that I knew. He said it would be helpful, in case the King retaliated. Which he did. Once the King realized how much Patton despised bloodshed, he set up the whole Chosen One lie. I can smell the propaganda from here….

That’s nonlinear, though. Let me get back on path.

I began teaching Patton. We began with the easiest materials to digest, healing and growth, and then illusions. He’s a wonderful student, and a wonderful human. We had already been working together for, ah….what, a few months?

I’d begged Patton to leave me, too. I...after we’d fled, I didn’t care if I’d be alone for another few centuries. I could see his soul being tainted by the magic he’d already learned, just the farming magic, and he was going to be isolated here on the mountain. He was a good person, he could have had a fucking future, and, well…. What was loneliness to a god? To me? It didn’t matter. It didn’t.

….

Patton refused, though. He claimed that….it would be okay. That he would be happy with just me.

I may be a god of lies and illusion, but to this day….that was centuries ago, and I still do not know if that was true or not. But he seems happy. He seemed happy, in that first year, but….he’s even happier now, now that he has children to parent.

Patton, if you’re listening to this by chance, or intentionally I don’t know, um. Love you! You’re a wonderful father.

If it is the new Chosen One listening to this, be forewarned. You will definitely be adopted. The King, regardless of who it is right now, doesn’t care a damn about you. That’s why you were sent here. This is a death sentence, in his mind. Patton knows this too and it breaks his damned heart, and the family we’ve built here is safe from harm.

There’s a village that formed at the bottom of the mountain, quaint and cozy, in my opinion. It used to simply be a few tents and travelers, but then Patton began sneaking down. He set up a small shop, even, when the first Chosen One was announced. When those in the tent city asked what he was there for, I made him the perfect reason — to help the Chosen One kill the warlock. To make a profit!

Everyone ate it up. And it helps us listen to word from the outside world.

Ugh, I really went off path. Back to the linear.

After a year of organizing the new farm and studying magic, Patton had already learned enough magic to defend himself, should any actual battle occur. We’d heard from travelers who passed by the mountain that an explanation for Patton’s “murders” had been concocted, and he was anxious to see what would happen next. That’s when the King sent the first Chosen One, just one year —

“Snake face. It’s dinnertime.”

Ugh! I told you to never stop calling me that!! And I wouldn’t like to finish this oral history, please.

“Roman apparently ‘made’ the corn so he’s making all of us try it. And you said to never stop.”

Virgil, I care oh so much about Roman’s corn. And you know what I don’t mean.

“Great, let’s go.”

What—Virgil! Let go of my arm! PATTON, VIRGIL’S NOT BUGGING ME—!

Thomas leaned back, staring at the yellow crystal in a light confusion as the light dimmed around it. That….explained a bit. Not everything, but a bit. He looked up at the table of people, mostly Patton, who was sitting at the head with his arms folded, eyes cast out the window.

“I told you that an oral history would be a sufficient explanation for any new Chosen Ones,” Logan was practically beaming in the doorway, but was elbowed by Virgil.

“Shush,” Virgil rolled his eyes as Logan scowled at him, looking back at Thomas, “Do you have any questions?”

Thomas gulped. He had a few. Like who they were. And why Patton and the god — Deceit? What kind of name was that, honestly? — hadn’t done anything about the kingdom’s corruption. Or what happened to the other heroes, other than the three before him. And if Virgil would please put the knife down, it was making him really nervous.

Patton coughed and Thomas snapped to attention. “Dee, I’ve, uh….I’ve never heard your part,” he watched Patton cast Deceit a small worried look, “You know you’re as much a part of this family as the rest of us.”

Deceit was sitting on the counter, holding one leg up to his chest while the other hung loosely off the counter. “Mhm,” he hummed, eyes trained on Thomas.

Thomas tried to ignore him the best he could, focusing on Patton. He sighed and shrugged, looking at Thomas again.

He offered a tired smile. “Well. There’s how it all starts! Like Virgil said, if you have any questions, go ahead and ask.”

Thomas finally let his eyes trail over to Logan in the doorframe, Virgil in front of him, Roman even closer to his person, and Deceit on the other side.

His eyes came back to the three boys. They all looked….honestly, about his age. Maybe a little older? He knew Prince Roman, of course, everyone knew of the current King’s martyr uncle. And Logan, but just because the old librarian had warned him. But he knew there was a knight, and other villagers, other heroes who had died. Actually really died, apparently?

“How did you all get here?” was what his mouth said, while his hand gestured vaguely to the trio.

Reactions were almost instantaneous. Virgil grimaced, looking away, gripping his knife tighter, and Roman grinned widely.

Logan squinted, but answered, in his way. “You recognized at least one of us. We are former Chosen Ones. I am Logan Crofter,” he placed his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “This is Virgil Malory, and—”

“And you know me! Prince Roman Marigold!” Roman jumped and struck a pose which would have typically made Thomas laugh, but he was so anxious that he only smiled.

Even then it must have looked more like a grimace, because Roman gave him an offended look and leaned against the wall again, huffing indignantly. He should clarify. “I mean….I get that you’re all, uh, Chosen Ones, but how did you get here? What order did you all….um….”

“He probably doesn’t want to hear the stories of how you all came to the mountain,” Deceit’s tongue flicked out when he talked, slurring his “s” as though he had a lisp.

He looked like the dragon Thomas had to fight on his way over.

Virgil tutted. “I-I get that, but….I don’t know if I want to tell that story.”

“I can, if you want,” Patton cut in, looking up at Virgil.

Thomas’ eyes flickered between the two, then at Deceit again. “I’d like to know, before I….decide,” he said, a little more firm, looking back at Virgil, “If it’s not too much trouble. Is there time?”

“If you’re staying, then there’s all the time in the world!” Patton grinned at him, opening his arms and standing up, “Speaking of! I should check on Left and Right!”

“Left and —?”

“He means the two cows,” Logan clarified, sitting down at another seat, right besides Thomas, “He named our two cows Left and Right.”

Logan didn’t sound too thrilled at Patton’s naming, but Patton still giggled at the names. “It’s because Right always stands on Left’s right side! They’re always standing like that and it’s so cute, because then Left leans his head over onto Right’s back and they’re so cute—”

“Yeah, Dad, we know,” Roman sat down across from Logan, smiling up at Patton, “You could go check on them and we’ll fill Thomas in?”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” Virgil grumbled, still standing by the door, “I don’t really—”

“C’mon, Stormy Knight, you have to tell your story! Even I’ve only heard bits and pieces, and I’ve been here second longest!” Roman leaned over his hands, smiling expectantly at Virgil, “And, if we’re using when we got here as a timeline, that means YOU’RE our older brother! And you should tell us your story!”

Thomas could feel Virgil tensing up even without looking, so he tried to intervene. Maybe this was all a bad idea anyway? “Your Majesty, I don’t—” Thomas tried, before being cut off by Logan.

“Roman’s not royalty anymore, least of all while here. Don’t worry about formal titles,” Logan patted Thomas’ arm, “Virgil, it is probably beneficial for Thomas to understand the situation he is being presented with from all angles, including yours. Please join us at the table.”

Thomas leaned over and looked at Virgil, who glared back at him. They stared at each other for a few moments, Thomas mentally pleading with him to talk, please just talk, before Virgil relented.

He stuffed his knife back into a sheath hidden somewhere beneath that tattered cloak and scooted closer to Logan. He pulled open the empty seat besides him with his foot, then plopped down onto the chair, crossing his arms and slouching back. Not at all happy to be talking, but Thomas was grateful that he was.

Even Deceit slid off of the counter to join them at the table. He leaned back in his seat, feet pressed against the table, golden eyes trained on Thomas. He wore a knowing grin, though, like a disguise.

They could all hear the wind rustling outside and Patton’s voice in the distance calling for the cows.

It was peaceful.

Thomas was….at peace. An odd sensation when surrounded by enemies. Were they enemies, though? They were in the same boat as him, and a little more learned. And what was there back home? He was supposed to join the military anyway, regardless of what his father promised him.

He had been sent here to die.

Virgil cleared his throat and, ergo, Thomas’ mind.

“Well,” he glanced down, “I….I used to be a knight. In the King’s army….”

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