BLIND | DreamSMP

V - Old Aquaintances

Tubbo threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair with a groan.

He had been signing documents and drafting legal contracts for the past two hours, and the repetitive work was exhausting. Dragging the palms of his hands down the sides of his face, Tubbo groaned again, slightly quieter than before. The papers stacked on his mahogany desk loomed back at him, a sisyphean task if there ever was one.

But somehow the mountains of paper dwindled lower and lower every night as Tubbo scratched endless signatures and declarations, approving building permits, reviewing laws, penning diplomatic letters, addressing crucial infrastructure failures and breaks, composing speeches, and a whole host of other things.

Tubbo had expected being the leader of L'Manberg would be hard, but this was an insane amount of work for one person. He had barely been able to sleep, staying awake late into the night and waking up while the sky was still gray; he had probably spent more time sitting at this desk than he had in his bed down the hall.

The candle resting on his windowsill sputtered, throwing the light it cast wildly around the room. Tubbo stood for the first time in what seemed like forever and stretched tiredly, rubbing his eyes in a desperate attempt to stay awake. This wasn't what he had envisioned when Tommy had passed governance of L'Manberg onto him. Tubbo hadn't even really wanted to be president, though he supposed it was too late now to resign from the prestigious position. Everyone was counting on him to lead the country into greater times, to build a future for L'Manberg and it's citizens.

Yet sometimes, Tubbo didn't want to be in charge. He wanted to tend to the bees in his conservatory and leave obscene signs at people's homes and eat popsicles on Phil's front stoop when the weather got hot and listen to music discs as the sun set and the day cooled down.

And he wanted to do it with Tommy.

The thought came unbidden, and Tubbo tried desperately to shoo it away before he became sentimental. He had exiled Tommy for a reason; the former vice president wouldn't listen to Tubbo, instead running off to start fights and create problems with almost anyone he could find, abandoning both L'Manberg and Tubbo. Tommy didn't care about the country. He was selfish and bullheaded and he messed up again and again, quickly apologizing before doing the same thing that had got him in trouble the first time.

Tubbo had been within his rights to exile Tommy-- for the good of the country. There could be no positive progress made while Tommy's schemes threatened diplomacy between nations and destroyed property. The arson and theft that had set into motion the exile were the tip of the enormous iceberg composed of various malfeasances.

Tubbo had made the right choice, surely.

So why didn't it feel that way?

He shook his head, dissipating the idea that he might have been wrong. It didn't matter now. Tubbo didn't need Tommy anymore. He had other people: Quackity, Fundy, and Ranboo, though the enderman-hybrid wasn't officially a member of the bureaucracy.

Ranboo had become a sort of personal assistant to Tubbo, grabbing him vital coffees and sending letters off to the proper recipients with greater efficiency than the regular postal service, among other various tasks. Occasionally he acted oddly or disappeared for long periods of time without explanation, but Tubbo trusted him more than anyone.

Fundy was an invaluable asset to their administration, acting as both a secretary and minister of construction, overseeing new buildings and platforms that had become necessities as L'Manberg expanded. Maybe he was absent from work more and more often, drowning his feelings in gin and tonic, angrily lashing out at Tubbo when he tried to drag him back into a more normal and healthy schedule, but the insight he supplied into the needs and wants of citizens was indispensable.