This was an age-old character study, likely one of my first. As you can tell, I have only descended further into character dev and cannot get out now. Fortunately I enjoy it. Hope you enjoy too.~

Thank Yous!: Huge shoutout to Celestia-Knight for the crop of the cover, which you can view on deviantArt in full! (It's titled 'Kirby - Commission - White Wafers'! I cannot post links here sadly :'D) Also special thanks to 1Thunderfire for recommending this fic on TVTropes! Thank you both so much! :D

"Great King? Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Dedede turned down to see one of his Waddle Dee servants tugging on the bottom of his robe. "Oh, I'm fine. Thanks."

The Waddle Dee stood there, but the penguin dismissed him with a wave of his glove. The short, furry creature turned and walked back into the castle. As he opened the door, a blast of warm air flooded out and passed over Dedede's back. He shivered from the pleasant warmth as his servant closed the door before turning back to staring out into the snowy landscape. Now he was all alone again. He rolled his eyes. Again.

Why was he standing out here, all alone, when he felt like he wanted some social interaction? He'd just shooed off one of his servants! He wasn't Meta Knight; he didn't brush off people interested in his life nor did he enjoy sulking around by himself. Yet here he was, out on the balcony, brushing off people interested in listening to him, and sulking around by himself.

Sheer irony. Or should he say, sheer Artic-ry; he was freezing out here. At least, his hands and feet were. The rest of him was boiling due to wearing a layer of clothes, his heavy robe, and his hat.

Why had he even come out here, standing on a cold, icy balcony in the snowy outdoors while the wind was blowing and every other sane person was inside in the perfectly wonderful warmth? Why was he out here sulking around instead of bossing the Waddle Dees to do something (like make him a cup of hot cocoa, for example?) This really made no sense at all...

The king huffed and turned back to the sky, which had the colors of sunset painted across it. He rested his shoulders on the balcony's guard rail and let his posture relax a little as he stared at it. The area truly was beautiful...it wasn't, in technicality, his, but he was ruler of Dream Land so he supposed he didn't need to actually own it anyway. In his younger years, he probably would have become frustrated over this, but over time he'd just become...despaired? Dismissive? Satisfied? Satisfied with...what, the fact that he didn't really need to own everything he even minutely wanted? He mentally winced at how jealous he'd had the tendency to act when he was younger; he hadn't completely shaken off his old nature but he'd lightened up considerably. It was no real wonder that people had thought of him like they did—he'd acted like such a spoiled brat against Kirby and the others that it wasn't too much of an abnormality for the townsfolk and natives rolled their eyes at him. He really did try not to be too angry all the time, but sometimes that puff and his friends were really irritating. Beyond irritating. Beyond plan-blocking irritating. And they thought he was ignorant, too. Hey, Kirby was ignorant when he stuck the Star Rod back in the Fountain of Dreams. Dedede had even warned him, but he didn't listen.

But then, it occurred to Dedede that part of Kirby's doubt about listening to him was probably due to the same eye-rolling picture he'd portrayed back then, which didn't make him feel any better.

The king sighed and shifted in his position, pushing a bit of the ice off the balcony stones. He was doing better; he'd tried, so that counted for something…right? He'd tried to keep his quarrels with Kirby personal instead of making it a planet-wide affair, which had actually succeeded, in a way. He didn't get so many complaints from townspeople that he had wrecked something in the village from a battle, so that was an improvement.

…Or was it from more than just a change for him? It couldn't be. But as he thought about it, it may have been possible. He hadn't thought about it before, but…he didn't really resemble himself from before Kirby had landed. None of the people he knew were exactly like their old selves, for that matter. In some ways, it seemed as if Kirby especially was more enjoyable to have around, and Meta Knight, Bandana Dee, and his other adventuring acquaintances had changed that way as well. But, that did bring a new question to the king's mind—did any of them enjoy having him around now?

It seemed like Kirby did, at the very least, but he always seemed to be happy around everyone, even whacky people. He hadn't even minded being around Dedede back when they were in Prism Plains, in Pupupu Village. It was probably impossible for Kirby to hate him...wasn't it? Kirby hid a lot of his feelings, and didn't like making others feel bad. Did he wish that Dedede would quit getting in his way? Was he waiting to get payback, like Meta Knight had attempted that one time? The pink puff could certainly be enthusiastic about a battle sometimes, and he quite enjoyed pranking him...Did that really mean he didn't like him?

It couldn't be. Dedede had never really meant to hurt Kirby—well, kill him. He never meant to end the puffball's life; just...just…

Now that he thought about it, Dedede didn't know why he'd done some of the things he had, but there must have been some reason. To…prove that he was better? That he was the real figure of respect for Dream Land to look up to? Likely. It wasn't fair that Kirby got more attention than he did. Kirby wasn't even from Popstar, and he wasn't the king, either! Dedede was born as the heir to a castle throne in Dream Land, and after that, he'd simply expanded his kingdom some. Did nobody really have to listen to him, the born ruler, when they would...well, they didn't always agree with Kirby, but Kirby wasn't the king! Dedede was the king; everybody should agree with him, even if they didn't need him!

Didn't need me...Dedede's eyes narrowed and he sighed. Yeah, they don't need me. Run to your puffball; he'll save you. He's not even from around here, and I'm expected to look after him like I'm babysitting some other planet's kid. You're a citizen of your own planet; why do we have to accept you?

But wait...if Kirby had actually come from Dream Land, maybe originally, or if his parents were from here...would he actually be a citizen of Dream Land? One of Dedede's supposedly-loyal subjects? Dedede wasn't anywhere near as formal as his father had been, but he knew it was technically wrong for a king to mistreat his subjects for no reason. And even if Kirby hadn't originally been from Dream Land, Dedede figured he'd spent enough time on the surface of the planet to become a citizen, maybe. He hadn't looked in the law books for a while, so he didn't know what the requirements were to become a citizen of Dream Land. Either way, he was still Kirby's arch...enemy? Rival? Whatever he was to Kirby, it wasn't anything that would—no. He didn't care about that puffball. But he couldn't stop thinking about it.

What would I do...if Kirby was from Dream Land?

Would he have to treat him better? Was he required to give him some sort of 'foreign starting money' or something? If Kirby's planet was destroyed by evil, would that have made him a...refugee?

All this...would have made Kirby in a sympathetic position. Kirby would have needed him, not the other way around...

What was he thinking? Why was he dwelling so much on Kirby? He was Kirby's ene—frie—rival, that's the word he was looking for. Certainly not his friend. But…could he say 'certainly not his enemy', as well?

He did carry a little bit of 'antagonist cred', but he wasn't evil, right?

He didn't want to be too bad of a ruler...

The king sighed. I'm not really too bad, and I…I don't really want to kill Kirby. Or his friends, really.

Yeah, he'd still go against Kirby, but when he'd almost killed him with the HR-D3, something in him had stopped. What was it? He knew he couldn't bear to let Kirby die, and he knew that beating Kirby would be a near impossible task. And yet he kept stirring up trouble and getting into fights with him. Some of them were accidental, but he wouldn't let that slip—well, if he could do something about it. He just wanted to be better than Kirby! Was that such a problem?

Maybe it was just the way he was going about it. Maybe he should be more 'kingly' about it. But who cared about all that law stuff or manners—why the heck couldn't he just pick a fight with Kirby whenever he wanted? Random aliens or evil villains didn't exactly fill out a bunch of paperwork to start trouble, so why should he have to?

Oh yeah, because he was the king. Now his own excuse was coming back to bite him in the butt. Maybe he could pass a decree saying that he could punish anyone who beat him.

Why was he even worried about this? He shouldn't be concerned over a little puffball who wasn't even a third of his height! He was the king; he had more important things to worry about! …Like…um, he knew there was something…

Dedede stuck both of his elbows in the ice on the balcony and propped his head up with his hands.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't have anything else to do. Nothing but protect his kingdom and his subjects. But fat lot of good that would do—Kirby was the hero! Dedede's job was to issue decrees and make political decisions; it wasn't his fault if he didn't have anything like that to work on! Kings of old days relied on knights and servants to get the actual kingdom-protection-work done, and Dedede had plenty of them—well, servants, that is, not knights. Kirby took care of that, and if he needed help, Meta Knight was sitting around doing nothing, and if the two of them couldn't come up with a solution, someone else could. For no reason should Dedede ever have to get off his rear and help save the world.

At this moment, he remembered his adventures with the puffballs. He'd helped them. He'd carried them. He'd apologized to them. He'd given them chocolate bars when they were injured. When things came down to actual danger, he'd done everything he could to help his little buddies.

'Buddies?'

He tried to shake the thought out of his head, but it wouldn't leave.

Face it, kingy. When have they ever really been your enemies? They haven't. Even when you wanted to stop them from saving the world, they weren't your enemies.

Dedede hated the part that would come next, but his mind wouldn't stop.

You're just feeling left out…

Dedede clenched his fist and punched one of the stone blocks on the balcony. The impact shattered the ice, and it went flying everywhere. The king shook the fragments out of his robe, thankful that he had something to wear…

…unlike his friends, who for the most part barely wore anything at all.

He grumbled to himself as he brushed his gloves off, turning to finally re-enter the castle. Okay, so he wasn't really a bad guy. He wasn't that evil at all. But, how would realizing that ever improve him? Surely everybody else would still see him in the same way…

He heard something clink softly behind him onto the not-so-icy-anymore balcony, and then he felt a powdery snowball collide with his back. He clenched his fist and whirled around, almost slipping on the cold stone.

He barely noticed a blue and purple creature hopping off the balcony to the ground below. Instead, he noticed what the creature had left behind. He walked over to it quietly, hoping not to disturb whatever had left it behind.

The object lying on the balcony's edge appeared to be some sort of capsule made from ice. Dedede picked it up, noting that it had the same feel as a newly-frozen icicle. The capsule was a perfect cylinder with rounded edges. It wasn't very big; the king estimated that it could only be about eight inches in diameter. He turned it around, trying to see if there was anything unusual about it. Something was inside the capsule; he could see that much through the ice, but the object's form was blurred by its prison. The king paused, wondering if he should break it open. It was somewhat ironic; years before this, he would've just broken it open, but now…

He dismissed the thought and started searching for a way to open the capsule. It was as if his mind was purposefully messing with him. He found a thinner area in the ice that wrapped around the capsule. It ran around the exact center of it, almost as if someone wanted him to break it there. Taking the hint—and the chance—Dedede cupped the capsule in his hands and snapped it open with his thumbs. The capsule snapped open neatly, letting its contents fall out into his hands. Dedede blinked, unsure of whether he was really seeing the items, and stared at them closer.

In one half there was a little figure of a puffball in Ice form, with the figure made from ice itself. The other half contained a small note. Dedede dumped all the ice pieces into the hand holding the figurine and set them down in the snow while he unfolded the note.

Sorry it wasn't a King Dedede. But he wouldn't fit in an ice capsule like that.

There was nothing more to the note. Dedede glanced back to the ice figure, and then back to the balcony, before setting down the note and moving quietly over to the balcony. He peeked over its edge, slowly and quickly at the same time. The mystery creature ducked out of sight, but not before he caught a glimpse of its round body shape and its unmistakably blue, glow-in-the-dark eyes with stars in them. The king cracked a smile, which only grew as he turned back to the castle to put his figurine in his personal freezer. By the time he had ordered a Waddle Dee to make him two cups of hot cocoa, he was grinning. When he set out his second cup of cocoa on the balcony, he was chuckling to himself. It was only as he stood inside the door, listening to the clink of the cup being set down on the balcony stones, that he realized that his mind had been right about some things. This annoyed him to no end. As he brought the second cocoa cup back in from the balcony, he tried to formulate a comeback.

So I matter to Kirby. What of it?