Tails of Iron, Whiskers of Love

[antimonyschnuck]

Tails of Iron, Whiskers of Love

Fandom: uh - "fandom"? Well it's about the game Tails of Iron

Ship: King Redgi/Robin the Ranger

Rating: general audiences although the game is a bit brutal

The social media person of OddBugStudio is very busy on Twitter and answered with 👀👀👀 to my joke "the game says Redgi and the ranger make a good team, I'll have to check that out on Ao3".

I didn't find any existing fan fiction for the game so - I had to write it.

only 577 words under this cut

Tails of Iron, Whiskers of Love

The first time he'd met the prince - no, the king, he reminded himself - he'd seemed so small. That was his first impression of him.

Not that he was much smaller than he himself was - small, wirey and agile weren't bad physical traits for a ranger. But for a king? The ranger had never had much interest in the going-ons at the palace but he knew the old king had been big and he'd been surrounded by sons of similar build.

Redgi was small and didn't seem to know what exactly was happening to him, or what he was expected to do. The ranger had secretly pitied him, given him his best bow and turned him into the direction of enemies to fight. He hadn't expected to ever see him again.

But the young king had prevailed. Next time he'd met him in the sewers fighting grubs. He'd looked a little bigger then - he'd found better armour. He said he needed to help his people however he could and the ranger had nodded and thought by himself that his brothers were probably trying to get rid of him by sending him on dangerous but petty errands. He'd fought not exactly well but was determined.

The ranger hadn't expected to ever see him again - but this time not because he was convinced that Redgi would be dead within the hour; just that there was a world of kings and a world of rangers and they rarely overlapped.

Next time they met Redgi looked smaller again, dwarved by heavier armour. But he'd carried it with some confidence. He was still courteous and amicable but he clearly was a rat with an agenda now and accepted help to further it, not because he was lost and desperate for a helping paw.

The ranger had given him an axe and pointed him into the direction of the tower where one of his brothers was held captive.

This time he had expected to see him again - but he didn't come back.

His brother, on the way back to the palace, explained how Redgi had freed him from his chains but then had gone to fight the horrible toad who'd taken him hostage and who occupied the tower.

The ranger waited a little longer. The young king would be fine. Or he wasn't. What was it to him.

His whiskers twitched with anxiety, he took his second best bow and went to the tower. It lay deserted. He drew himself up the wonky floors and cautiously climbed the last ladder up to the top of the tower.

There he lay. On a battle ground between green puddles of toxic slime lay the huge corpse of the warlord toad and the small battered body of the young king.

The ranger squealed in anguish, took him into his arms and carefully removed his helmet. Redgi's fur was spikey with blood and he stroked it, trying to smooth it back. The young rat's whiskers trembled and a red tear ran down his muzzle - a healthy porphyrin tear, not blood!

"You are alive!" the ranger sobbed and started to vibrate softly - he just couldn't help it.

Redgi sniffled. His whiskers caressed the ranger's face and his paw combed through the silky fur of his neck. "Do you have a name, ranger?" he whispered into the ranger's very pink ear, touching the velvety skin with his nose.

"Yes," the ranger squeaked quietly, as they started grooming each others' faces.

Rats produce red tears when they are stressed. The colour is a pigment called porphyrin.

It's not great if this happens but as Redgi is quite stressed out at the moment, I thought one could call it "healthy". It's just part of their metabolism and no sign of lethal crackinskullonitis.