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“ORCEA? Princess... why did it have to be ORCEA?”
Empress Zelda pinched the bridge of her nose as she flipped through the blueprints pinned to the table.
Peach simply smiled lovingly and patiently, squeezing her hand as she kissed her.
“We just need a little more time with it, Zelda. I'm sure that it will come together.”
The cabinet had seemed charming at the expo, full of drawers and hidden niches. Looking at the nightmare monstrosity before her, the thousands of mismatched pieces, and the instructions that might as well have been written in Wolfen for all the good that they did...
Even Tails had taken a break.
Uruk-lambo wasn't the most descriptive of languages even at the best of times. To make matters worse, some of the diagrams seemed to refer to whole sections that didn't exist, or cross-connect in ways that weren't even possible in three dimensions.
They'd gone to the expo on a lark, hoping to get a feel for what new developments might have trickled down from their magic-science initiative to the civilian sector and mass market. It had certainly been well worthwhile it seemed, with all sorts of interesting trinkets and useful gadgets popping up all over the place in the time between her coronation and their wedding, but this gave them a focused view of what was just around the corner, without having to extrapolate from R&D trends — or rather, without Peach and Tails having to translate their technobabble to Common for Zelda.
“Oh, aye, and you're sure then that this mightn't best be assembled with a large, blunt instrument?” Zelda asked hopefully, but ruefully.
Peach gave her a reproachful look and snubbed her nose playfully.
“No! And if you keep that attitude up, you might just find yourself sleeping in a cold bed tonight, missy!”
Zelda feigned a look of panicked remorse, holding out her hands in surrender. Peach's threat held no water, especially since she'd demonstrated nigh on no end to her libido, at least when no one else was present. In truth, she could use a full night's sleep, though she'd never allude to such for her own quiet fears. She knew, deep down, that Peach loved her, and was hardly about to leave, much less withhold favors for any reason, but the jittery frail edges of panic were never too terribly far away, even now. Healing takes a long time, and her princess had gone a long way toward alleviating these fears and pains, but such things don't give up their purchase easily.
Sonic strolled in with some overstuffed packages, Ruru hovering not far behind with an ice cream cone nearly half of her size.
“A'ight, inta yer corners you. What'd I tell you kids about playin' nice, huh?” he remarked as he dropped the packages onto the blueprints. A smudge of gravy began to stain the corner of the topmost instruction.
Zelda sighed and shoved the packages to a clear area, giving the smudge a wipe with her hand, serving only to make it worse, then rubbing the mess off of her hand and onto her tunic and breeches. “Well if it isn't mister oh-so-helpful himself! Care to lend a hand then, eh?”
Peach tisked and shook her head sharply at that, in response to which Zelda hung her head and trudged away to the bathroom for a handtowel.
“Ruru will help! Ruru is the best at understanding these things.”
The Kaijin crossed the room to the papers and began making a show of examining them in detail.
“So... where's Tails gotten off to? I thought he was tryna put this shit together wit'cha.”
From the bathroom, Zelda snorted and called back “It seems that even he might be bested in this, methinks.”
“Yeah, well, I got us some shit ta eat, an' he needs ta hustle his ass in here if he wants any before it goes ta shit,” Sonic replied, scratching Mister Fluffykins's neck as he fed him a treat.
Mister Fluffykins was Peach's Siberian-striped Savannah Coon, who oversaw most of the proceedings in the royal apartments, particularly those with food involved. He'd been there since not long after their triumphant return to the capital. In fact, he was the first installment upon their taking residence.
When Zelda had opened the throne to mortal contest for three days, Peach had found him wandering around the stadium, picking through garbage for scraps and fallen in love instantly. Her heart had broken when she'd seen him, scrawny, timidly pawing at the lid of a garbage bin in hopes of something not yet too far rotted. When she'd gone to pet him, he'd almost bolted, but hunger had kept him rooted there, determined not to abandon what little he might scrounge. She'd offered him her bratwurst, leaving it gently on the floor before him, and backing away. Once she'd retreated sufficiently that he might make good his escape as needed, he'd inspected her offering carefully, suspiciously — he'd seen this ruse before, if he ate, then she might hurl a brick at him, or it could have been poisoned... he'd lost some of his pack to both of these ploys. In the end, he'd wolfed it down and turned to slink away, but she'd called out to him. There was something in her voice that had stayed him. She'd come forward some, offering him her milkshake. Torn between fear and anguished hope, he'd approached it with great distrust.
Slowly, she'd won over his confidence that day.
When she'd returned the next with more food, he hadn't dashed away immediately. She'd stayed with him that second day as well, whenever she wasn't watching Zelda's ritual combat.
The same again had occurred on the third day.
That evening, he'd come to... not trust her, no, but distrust her little enough to follow her home.
Over the next several weeks, he'd integrated with their strange little family, and soon come to feel that he had a home again. Woe be any who might threaten his pack now.
Tails came back in, his nose buried in a datapad, just as Zelda returned.
“Hon? I tried to clean it off, I swear, but I'm not sure that they won't stain.”
Peach pointed her back to the bathroom.
Tails cocked his head at the datapad, “I'm not sure that this cabinet is meant for us.”
“A'ight,” Sonic sighed, “what kinda crazy shit ya got in mind this time?”
Tails considered this carefully.
“As far as I can determine, it requires a Hausdorff dimension of approximately e 1, with a corresponding local metric; I'm also almost entirely certain that it's an infinitely regressive genus aleph null topology.”
“Yeah — an' here I was thinkin' the same shit just now!” Sonic retorted.
“Baka!” Ruru huffed from above the table.
Tails blinked.
“What's all that, then?” Zelda asked from the bathroom.
Peach twitched her nose in contemplation, “Umm, Zelda, sweetie... do you still have the receipt and all of the original packaging...?”
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