Minecraft Oneshots

On Anointed Brow (Part 1)

I'm not even going to apologize for starting new fics anymore. This is just part of the p0tat0-g0ddess experience.

Anyway, Heir to a Bloody Throne AU. We'll see if this one wiggles its way out of the oneshot collection to become a real book.

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Grace gazed up at the dark, imposing castle that towered over them, her grip tightening on the strap of the bag that rested across her chest.

"Can I stay behind for this one?" She tried, shooting her uncle a look out of the corner of her eye. Instead of the gentle ribbing she'd expected, Steven set his jaw and shook his head.

"The king is dead, Grace." He told her lowly. "We'd best pay our respects."

It had been less than a week since Steven and his niece had gotten the news - the King of the Nether, Herobrine Duskmourne, had perished, and had been succeeded by his son. The details surrounding his death were hazy, but Steven figured it wasn't his business to know. The story would not matter to him at all if he did not make his living by traveling to the Nether.

Steven was a Wayfinder, a profession which centered around finding and clearing locations for quick-access portal tunnels through the Nether. Portal travel was still a fairly new science, but the risk involved was well worth the speed at which one could travel thousands of kilometers in the overworld in a fraction of the time it would take up there. Alongside this, Steven also collected any rare and valuable materials he came across, selling them as a side business.

His niece, Grace, had been his apprentice for the last four months, which had been the point at which her parents had finally caved in to her begging. Grace had been fascinated by her uncle's work ever since she was a little girl and, now, at 17, she had finally landed a position as his apprentice. He had initially been concerned for her safety, but she had a good head on her shoulders, and other than a few bumps and scrapes she had gotten by so far relatively unharmed.

Steven's time in the nether meant that he had met the previous king on more than one occasion. He would hardly call them friends, but they were pleasant acquaintances. He had never met his son, Valor, but he'd heard that the boy was less than twenty years old. He was undoubtedly grieving, and Steven wanted to offer his condolences. So, he and Grace had taken a day to travel to the castle and visit.

"C'mon." Steven beckoned his niece with him, and she fell into step behind him as he walked towards the stately gates.

"There are no guards," Grace noted as they passed through them. Steven grunted.

"Guards are mostly inside the castle. Most intruders are warded off by the terrain."

"Huh." Grace was quiet for a moment. "Wonder if having more guards would've kept the last king alive."

"Hmm."

The first sign of guards was at the large doorway into the castle, a pair of piglins in dark armor. They quietly stepped aside as Steven neared- they knew him. Grace seemed a little shocked at the sight of them, but she merely stayed close to her uncle as they entered the castle.

Steven made his way down a hallway to a small reception area, where he lowered his heavy pack to the ground with a sigh. Grace did the same, looking around.

"Does the king... know we're here?"

"Not yet, I reckon." Steven rolled his shoulder. "We're waiting for-" An enderman appeared in the center of the room with a blip, and Grace yelped.

"Nether!"

"Language." Steven scolded her. "Hello, Earl." The enderman chirped and bowed in greeting. "We're here to see the new king." Steven went on. "T' pay our respects. That alright with you?" Earl nodded, then vanished in a shower of purple sparks. Grace turned to look at her uncle, gaping in shock.