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Lapin is no fool. He is well acquainted with the inner workings of the church and the state, having spent many years reading dusty old tomes and sleepless nights by candlelight. He has spent his life in search of answers, and has found only more questions. He knows what happens to those who go against the Bulb. He knows what happens to those who dare to defy the church.
He barely considers his options before casting Fly on Theobald. He obviously will not side with the church, for a countless number of reasons, one them being that he can privately admit that he has grown fond of the Rock family and their friends, though he rarely dares to even concede it to himself. So, a fight it is, then. And Lapin has never been good at fighting. He is not quick, like his brothers and sisters and other siblings, who are light on their feet, as rabbits generally are. He is not strong, like King Amethar or Sir Theobald, whose toughness rivals mountains. He has made his living in being smart of mind and sharp of tongue—he is a silver devil, one who will coax the secrets out of you before you know it’s happened. He can pull answers out of near anyone, with enough time. If only there was enough time.
But it is too late to talk, and all he can do is act quickly, or at least as quick as he can manage it. And so he does, and he may be strong enough to carry one of the princesses up to the second floor, but he is not who they need right now. And so he casts Fly on Theobald, and puts himself in front of Liam.
He knows how this fight will end. He knows that he will only get one turn, and this will have to be it.
Theobald does his job. He gets the princesses and the boy to safety. Lapin goes down soon after.
He does not get a chance to say goodbye, to nod at the princesses and Liam and bow to his King, to apologize to Theobald for being so distant all these years. He has learned to keep his heart close to chest, and that is what he has done, and while he does not exactly regret it, the past few days have made it apparent just how good the man is. He thinks, had things been different, they could’ve been good friends before now, before all of this.
Lapin himself does not claim to be good, not exactly, but he does his best. So, he will have to be content with what they had.
His greatest regret, perhaps, is the death of Preston. It was a cruel thing to do, to kill a boy’s pig like that, and he clutches the soft body to his heaving chest and curses the Bulb for all it’s worth, and curses Liam for his selflessness and trying to help, and sending Preston to his death. He hopes wherever Preston ends up is full of sugarplums and nice boys who will look with him for seeds.
He prays for it to be quick, to be as painless as possible. He looks up as the Pontifex and Sir Keradin loom over him, and utters his final words, an answer to a question he has long since wondered.
“The Bulb cares for no one.”
He wonders if the rest of his compatriots can hear his gasping breaths from outside these confining walls. In his last moments, the Sugarplum Fairy appears to him. He only grumbles a little when he finally goes home.