Archive of Our Own

Theoretically, Jimmy knows why they have these meetings.

Theoretically, Jimmy knows that it’s Katherine’s way of fostering good will between all of the Empires closest to her, that it is, perhaps, her way of ensuring she will survive the fallout of any wars that might occur, and that it’s an easy-access way of updating other Emperors on the comings and goings of one’s own Empire. Theoretically, Jimmy knows that the meetings are places to arrange trades, make alliances, and even have mere socialisation, for who else better to socialise with young people with too much power than other young people with too much power? Theoretically, Jimmy knows that Katherine had her heart in a good place when she came up with the idea for them.

Realistically, Jimmy knows that these meetings are a thinly-veiled excuse to brag on one’s Empire, trade in barbed antagonistic remarks without fear of potential war, and partake in the delicious pastries of House Blossom.

Okay, maybe that last one’s just him, but hey⎯ Katherine’s people make really good desserts!

“It’s like, I love Katherine, but I do not want to be here, y’know?” Jimmy jerks his head emphatically at the room around them, spraying cookie crumbs from his mouth. He doesn’t wear the codhead inside the meeting house; everyone already knows what he looks like here. The secrecy is only held for outsiders, like villagers or persons of interest who aren’t in the House Blossom Alliance. It makes it easier for Jimmy to live his life, free of expectations, on the rare occasions he deigns to take a break from work. Lizzie rolls her eyes and neatly side-steps away from the cookie projectiles.

“Katherine is our ally, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminds, sounding exasperated. “She expects us to be here. Of course we have to be here. Besides, I can get behind a woman who taxidermies for a hobby.” She flashes a razor-sharp smile, blue gills fluttering on her neck slightly. Inside the meeting house, much like Jimmy with his codhead, she doesn’t observe her usual ten-foot-plus Goddess stature. Instead, she opts for a smaller, more vaguely humanlike form.

(She insists it’s meant to mimic humans; really, Jimmy thinks that all you have to do is look at her for longer than two seconds to figure out that there’s something primal and distinctly eldritch prowling beneath her skin.)

“I know! That’s why I said I love Katherine!” Jimmy protests, stuffing another cookie into his mouth. “I just don’t-mmff⎯” He chokes on his cookie, making Lizzie sigh and reach over to harshly thump him on the back. Jimmy coughs, grabbing a glass of champagne from off the table and hurriedly gulping it down. The alcohol buzzes on the way down, but Jimmy tries not to pay it any mind. Damn Katherine for being overly fancy and not just having water at her meetings.

“Please chew before you speak.” Lizzie gives him a disgusted look. “I may not have helped raise you, but I will beat manners into you in this lifetime.”

“Don’t hit me!” Jimmy yelps. “I won’t do it again, jeez, I’ll chew before I speak, whatever. You’re supposed to be used to these things as my sister, you know that?”

“Grian and Pearl might be used to you acting atrociously impolite, but I’m not. I won’t sit here and get cookie crumbs on me from your mouth just because you want to complain and eat, Jimmy!” Really, he can’t fault Lizzie for this, considering they weren’t raised together. Not like how Grian and Pearl raised him, anyway. Jimmy sighs, giving the platter of cookies one last forlorn look.

“Anyway,” He says eventually, when he figures that looking at the desserts will just make him want them more. And he really does want to complain rather than eat, at least for right now. Lizzie’s the only one who will listen to him for so long. “All I’m saying is that we could do without these dumb meetings. Like, no one even cares whether or not I’m here⎯”

“Katherine cares.”

“She doesn’t count, she actually likes me.”

“I like you too, you fool. And if I have to suffer through these, then so do you.”

“Aha!” Jimmy shouts triumphantly, pointing a finger in Lizzie’s face. “So you admit there’s something to suffer through!”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow, deadpan. “Get your finger out of my face.”

“Right, right, sorry, sorry,” Jimmy apologises sheepishly, lowering his hand.

“And I don’t like these meetings, but that was never something I was hiding, Jimmy. We still have to be here. It’s important to get updates on other Empires, regardless. Knowing what trades we benefit from and which Empires need more from us is helpful. Besides, this is when you’re supposed to be networking, making other alliances!” Lizzie points out in her usual no-nonsense tone, the one she always gets when she talks about their Empires. She’s surprisingly laid-back and even chaotic most of the time, but when she talks Empires, she talks business.

“I wish networking actually involved casting nets, like I thought.” Jimmy frowns. It may be closer to a pout, actually, but he is a grown cod hybrid and a ruler of his own Empire, and he doesn’t pout. It’s unbefitting of an emperor.

“I mean, you could try it,” Lizzie suggests wryly, turning her gaze outwards to the rest of the room. It’s full of various emperors chatting in their own little groups, not paying one lick of attention to him and Lizzie in the corner. Joke’s on them, they don’t get to taste Katherine’s delicious cookies. “I’m sure you’d catch some of them off-guard.”

“Uh-huh. And that’d help me make alliances…how?”

“I don’t know, but it’d sure be funny.” Lizzie giggles, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Go on, Jim. Try it! Throw a net over the nation’s strongest beings and see what happens.”

“You are a terrible influence,” Jimmy says dryly.

“What’s this about my wife being terrible?” Joel swaggers up to them, having finally gotten free from Sausage and Fwhip’s clutches. He wraps an arm around Lizzie’s shoulder and presses a kiss to her cheek before glaring at Jimmy. “You better not be insulting Her Majesty, Jimothy. That’s treason, you know, she could have you drowned.”

“I breathe underwater⎯”

“She’d figure it out!” Joel replies firmly, shaking his head. “Never underestimate Queen Lizzie.”

“It’s true, I would,” Lizzie agrees in a hum, looking smug. Jimmy gapes in abject betrayal at her.

“Why are we discussing my potential death, again?!” He asks shrilly with wide eyes, gesturing uselessly at the air. “I think we should not kill Jimmy today, you know that? Really, I think he quite prefers being alive.”

“And now he’s speaking in the third person.” Joel sighs in mock-disappointment. “He’s gone mad, that’s what it is. We should subdue him before he hurts someone in his general craziness.”

“I have not gone mad, you prick!” Jimmy exclaims, laughing. “If anything, you’re the one who’s gone mad. Mad King of Mezalea, that’s what I hear. Magic-denier and whatnot.”

“I don’t deny magic!” Joel insists hotly. “It just goes haywire around me! How is that my fault!? Ugh, I can’t believe those rumours are circulating again. I’m married to a gorgeous Sea Goddess, you’d think that people would use common sense and ascertain that I don’t disbelieve in magic. You know, I bet it’s Fwhip’s doing. He loves to get on my bad side.”

“He called you short one time, Joel, I don’t really think that means he has it out for you permanently,” Lizzie replies with a roll of her eyes. Joel pouts, and it definitely is pouting, because Jimmy only ever sees him make that expression at Lizzie⎯ He assumes that you can get away with that sort of thing, even being a King, as long as you’re doing it towards the person you married.

(Deep within his heart, jealousy twinges like the pull of the moon against tides.)

“But Lizzie,” says Joel, almost sulking. “He’s annoying.”

“He also favours salmon, so really, not seeing much that’s great about him here!” Jimmy declares cheerfully, lest he become a third wheel as Lizzie and Joel dissolve into married-couple-bickering. Truthfully, he doesn’t have much against Fwhip. They’re acquaintances at best, and they treat each other cordially, even if Fwhip is one of the more-likely Emperors to make snide remarks about the Cod Empire.

“Oh, you two.” Lizzie sighs. “Both of you need to get out more, for the love of the Ocean.”

“I get out plenty⎯”

“Hey, hey, Jim’s the antisocial one, don’t put this on me⎯”

“I am not antisocial!” Jimmy protests, giving his seabling and Joel an incredulous look. Lizzie returns his with an unimpressed arched eyebrow of her own, arms crossed over her chest intimidatingly. Joel snorts, shaking his head and making a tut-tut sound.

“Oh…poor, little Jim.”

“I am almost an entire head taller than you, watch it!”

“I was referring to the size of your Empire.”

“Joel!” Lizzie scolds, elbowing her husband in the side. Joel blinks, the smirk disappearing from his lips as remorse fills his eyes.

“Sorry, Jimmy.” Joel says uncomfortably. Apologies aren’t exactly his forte. “Bit rude of me, that.” Jimmy bites his tongue before he replies with something waspish and sarcastic. He sighs, instead, waving a hand vaguely in the air.

“It’s fine.” Jimmy shrugs. “Not like you said anything untrue.”

“I do think you should put yourself out there, though, Jimmy,” Lizzie says, changing the subject with no acknowledgement of the apology or forgiveness. She’s good about that. Jimmy rarely feels stuck or awkward around her, since she’s got such a laser-focus on what she wants to talk about. “We’re good alliances to have, but we’re also family. Katherine is your only alliance who isn’t obligated.”

“I don’t know who else to ask,” Jimmy says in frustration. “Pearl’s family, too, and Grian and Scar live too far south to count. There’s the Wither Rose Alliance, I guess… But they’re so tight-knit, and I think they hate me.”

“What about Joey?” Joel makes a face after the suggestion. Naturally, all three of their gazes turn to find the Lost King. He’s parading around in front of Katherine, Pix, and Gem, shirtless as usual with his dramatic red cape clasped around his neck. From the looks of things, he’s bragging about something new to do with his Empire.

“Wither Rose. And he’s so obnoxious that he asks his alliance members to donate real, solid gold to him in honour of their new partnership! The Cod Empire can barely afford to keep going right now, there’s no way we’d survive a relationship with him. He’s cutthroat. He’d overtake us in a heartbeat.” Jimmy hates to talk about his Empire like it’s weak, but the fact of the matter is that it is. The civil war ravaged them for all they had left, and they’re only just now getting back on their feet within Jimmy’s lifetime. He’s glad to have enough subjects left for there to be an Empire at all.

“Oh! What about Pix? He isn’t Wither Rose, is he?” Lizzie suggests brightly. Jimmy pauses, considering.

“I don’t think so… And he’s good friends with Katherine. Maybe he’d join!”

“Pix has close ties with Rivendell, though. It’d probably be good to get on that guy’s good side before asking Pix to join,” Joel points out, eyebrows scrunching. “I’ve never talked to him. What’s his name, again?”

“Scott,” Jimmy answers, maybe a bit too quickly, considering the way both Joel and Lizzie glance at him. His cheeks burn and Lizzie’s eyes widen, realisation settling in them as sure as the tides. “Um. I think. Anyway⎯”

“Oh, Jimmy. Of all the Emperors? You two could not be more different,” Lizzie cries, throwing her hands in the air. Jimmy winces. “Does he even know you exist? Rivendell’s so pretentious they barely allowed Katherine’s alliance, let alone⎯ Oh, gods, Jimmy. You’ve really backed yourself into a corner here. What chance of an alliance would you ever have, especially if he found out? What if elves get offended by that sort of thing?”

“I know that, Lizzie,” Jimmy replies quietly. “It’s not about that. I’ve never even talked to him, okay, it’s nothing. Don’t worry, I’m not shooting above my station or something, for fuck’s sake.”

“Jimmy, that’s not what I meant! Of course he’s the one who’d be lucky to have you. I just…”

“I’m so lost right now,” interrupts Joel, head swivelling as he looks between the two of them. Jimmy shakes his head, wearing an annoyed scowl.

“Don’t worry about it, Joel. Lizzie’s just making sure I don’t go pursuing my ridiculous crush on an Emperor who’s so out of my league it’s actually laughable.” Jimmy softens as he looks at his seabling, who wears an expression of genuine regret. No matter how hurt he is, he knows he can’t leave Lizzie stewing in her guilt like this. “It’s fine, Lizzie. Really. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Lizzie says sincerely, and the pity in the room feels palpable as Joel finally catches on. Jimmy can’t breathe. His chest is tight; overwhelmed with these gazes on him, feeling sorry for him. Poor little Jimmy, who can barely keep his own Empire afloat, whose taste in men seems to be atrociously unlucky. “I mean it, Jimmy. I was just surprised, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Jimmy knows that.

Jimmy also knows that Lizzie’s knee-jerk reaction was to talk about how screwed he was, not to tease him over the first crush she’s known about, or even about the fact that he’s into men, or to be remotely sisterly at all. She’d been speaking as the Queen of Oceania, and maybe that’s just…not what Jimmy needs.

Not right now.

(Not ever?)

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” Jimmy says, adopting a cheerful tone. “I’ll be back in a few, maybe we can talk to Pix then?”

“Of course,” Lizzie says, even though any other time she’d tell Jimmy to do it by himself, like a proper Emperor should. Oh, gods, this pity claws into him and leaves him suffocating, drowning alive on land. Jimmy manages a smile and turns around, walking along the edge of the meeting house until he finds a balcony door. He pushes outside, unnoticed, and gasps as the fresh air of the Overgrown hits his face.

He reaches the balcony railing, bracing himself against it as he stares up at the sky. The sun has set by now, leaving it stained a dark navy, blanketed with thousands of stars. The moon is bright and full, shining brilliantly and lending enough light that Jimmy can see around him without the aid of a torch. The Overgrown always carries a floral scent with it, natural and vigorous in a way that leaves him feeling revitalised. It’s not as good as water, of course, whether it be fresh or salt, but it’s a close second. Jimmy takes deep breaths as he looks at the sky, finding the constellations he knows like the back of his hand. Little Cod, Big Cod, the Stags, and his favourite; the Poppy. He likes the flower, too, but something about it being written in the stars feels important. Special, perhaps. Jimmy’s long since learned not to question his feelings, when they’re like this.

“Good evening⎯”

Jimmy yelps, eyes going wide as he whirls around to find the source of that smooth, polite voice. He comes face to face with the very elf he’d been hoping to avoid for the foreseeable future. Of course. Why would Jimmy’s luck be any better?

Scott looks amazing. He always does, but tonight, it feels particularly true underneath the complimentary moonlight, everything awash in shades of silver. Even Scott’s notorious long cyan hair has grown pale, but it only serves to bring out his eyes, which are a shade of blue no moon could dim. Multitudes of gold earrings dangle from his long elf ears, held close to his head and as upright as always. His hair itself is done in an elaborate crown of braids, decorated with crystals that mimic ice shards. The outfit he wears is in Rivendell’s signature colours, a suit made of white with a long, skirt-like train that begins at his waist, fluffy with layers of the Rivendell blue fabric, somehow managing to shift in shades like ice. Pretty, ornate rings adorn his fingers, and his tie is in the same solid gold colour.

Jimmy, by comparison, feels acutely unworthy.

“I’m sorry,” He says abruptly, realising too many seconds have crept by with them merely looking at each other. Scott raises an intimidating eyebrow. Jimmy hadn’t even known that eyebrows could be intimidating. “I didn’t realise anyone was out here, I totally would’ve chosen a different balcony if I’d known you already had one! I was, um, I was just, er, getting some fresh air, haha, you know how it is⎯ Or not, I don’t know if you’re the type for fresh air, I just get flustered and oh, wow, this is going horribly. Um. I’m sorry.” 

His face burns.

“Codfather,” Scott says, giving a small laugh. It doesn’t feel mean, though, only light-hearted. His voice is cool and collected, just like the ice his Empire represents, and yet his laugh is warm like Jimmy’s favourite woollen blanket. “Please. You’re fine. There’s more than enough room for the both of us on this balcony, isn’t there?”

“I guess,” Jimmy manages without stammering or blushing even more. He’s almost proud of himself, actually, until Scott quirks a little half-smile and Jimmy’s lost. He’s sure he’s never been redder in his life. “Um. So. What are you doing, exactly, on the balcony?”

“I quite enjoy Katherine’s company, but not necessarily the company of Katherine’s guests,” Scott answers, airy. Jimmy frowns, almost unintentionally, as he looks at the elf.

“Why not?”

“...You’re asking me why I don’t like certain people?” Scott seems surprised. Jimmy wonders if he isn’t used to having someone question the things he says or does. He probably isn’t. Scott’s Empire is flourishing under his rule, after all. No one feels like they should ask him what his ten-year plan is or why he did this or why he said that. No one handles Scott with kiddie gloves.

Oh, well. Jimmy’s committed now.

“Yeah,” He says, shrugging. “What have they ever done to you?”

“Nothing, I suppose, not officially.” Scott muses, appearing to genuinely think about the question. It’s nice to see him put thought into it. Jimmy’s questions go unnoticed, sometimes. A lot of the time, actually. “But… Some of them can be quite vexing.”

“Vexing?” Jimmy repeats with a giggle. “Like those horrible little creatures in the Woodland Mansions?”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Scott admits, smiling slightly. “I only know the word means to cause annoyance and frustration.”

“Oh,” Jimmy says, feeling his cheeks flush. Of course it’d been another fancy word he didn’t really know or have a grasp on. Still, just like with networking, he prefers his initial definition for the word. It’s too funny to imagine comparing someone like Joey to those annoying little flying creatures who craved blood and viscera. “Who bothers you so much? I thought you liked everyone.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

“I dunno.” Jimmy scratches the back of his neck. “You’re really polite. Like, too polite. No one can tell what goes on in your head. So most of us are neutral, I think, but when you’re around someone you like, you smile a lot. It’s… Um. I guess you don’t like everyone, then, but it’s easy to assume that you don’t dislike us.”

“I do wonder how much of these meetings you spend watching me instead of listening if you know so much about my mannerisms, Codfather.” Scott’s smile has transformed into a sly smirk, his elf ears flicked forwards with intrigue. Jimmy splutters instinctively, throwing his hands up in the air as he shakes his head rapidly.

“I don’t, I don’t, I don’t do any of that!” He manages, voice high-pitched and squeaky. Scott, to his surprise, only laughs. A real, true laugh, the kind that comes from deep within his chest, not just a snort or a huff of amusement. A glowing ember of pride gets lodged in Jimmy’s throat, and he finds he can’t speak around it without fear of endless compliments spilling from his lips.

“I’m only teasing, Codfather. I assure you I meant nothing by my words.” Scott’s eyes twinkle with mischief. Jimmy can tell he means what he’s saying, but at the same time, he likely found Jimmy’s reaction entertaining enough to probably do it again. He swallows reflexively.

Maybe he does spend too much time watching Scott, if he can read the elf this well.

“Well, anyway,” Jimmy says, not bothering to be more subtle about his subject change. “You never told me who you dislike so much.”

“It’s impolite to talk about people behind their backs,” Scott says primly. Jimmy squints at him.

“I really hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but…you’ve never struck me as an elf who would care about that sort of thing.” Jimmy pauses, flustered. “Not that you’re not a good person! But I don’t think gossiping is a sin you’re worried about. And besides, it’s part of being an Emperor, isn’t it? Ocean knows everyone never shuts up about my Empire.”

“I feel as though I should be offended by that,” Scott says, voice unreadable. Jimmy winces, fully prepared for the other man to tell him to fuck off in some highly sophisticated way and to expect a letter signalling Rivendell’s intent of war at his door in the future. “But I’m not, considering you only tell the truth. If I’m being honest… gossiping is a favoured pastime of mine.”

“Oh, good,” Jimmy breathes in relief. “I really didn’t want to go to war against you.”

“You⎯” Scott seems at a loss for words. “You are like no one I’ve ever met before.”

“Mm. I think you must not spend enough time around poor people, King of Rivendell.”

“You’re hardly poor,” Scott protests. “You’re an Emperor just as I am, Codfather.”

“Oh, I’m an Emperor, alright, but I’m definitely not just as you are.” Jimmy’s scoff is bitter, stinging the back of his throat like iron or nettles. “We are about as far apart on the spectrum of Emperors as we could get, thank you. I know so, and you know so. You probably think we’re as weak as they come. Don’t pretend like you haven’t heard the things people say⎯ It’s not all true, of course, but… Well. Let’s just say the Cod Empire won’t be fighting any battles anytime soon.” 

“Excuse me,” Scott says, voice like ice. Jimmy’s eyes snap to his, surprised to find Scott wearing a severe expression. It’s like he’s closed himself off at will, all traces of lightheartedness disappearing. “Don’t presume to know what I do or do not think of your Empire. While I dabble in gossip, I don’t ever believe rumours without confirmation. Aeor knows I’ve caused enough trouble myself that way. I wouldn’t be caught dead listening to rumours of another’s Empire without having facts to back it up.”

“Oh,” says Jimmy faintly. Scott…softens doesn’t seem to be the right word, but shifts, perhaps, like an ancient icecap slowly beginning to melt, the most miniscule of changes happening right before his eyes.

“I apologise,” He says quietly, hands clasped in front of him. “I got a bit heated. I dislike having my integrity questioned, that’s all, even if it’s no excuse.”

“It’s okay.” Jimmy offers a smile. “I was being an asshole for no reason. I shouldn’t assume you look down on me just because everyone else does. I mean, except for Katherine and Lizzie and Joel.”

“I don’t, Codfather.” Scott says it like it’s a promise, like he’d move mountains as long as Jimmy believed him. It’s a bit of a heady thing, having all that grandeur directed at him. He’s just Jimmy, Codfather, a hybrid trying to keep the only home he concretely remembers alive. “To prove it to you, in fact, how about we draw up an alliance? Rivendell has need of slime, anyway, as there are several machines in progress at the moment that cannot finish without it.”

“You’re⎯” Jimmy gapes for a second, shocked. Scott gives him a small, private smile. “I don’t… You want to ally with me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Yes, Jimmy wants to scream, because even my own sister didn’t believe for a second that you’d look twice at me, so much as offer something worth hundreds, if not thousands in gold.

Scott must take his silence as hesitance, though, as a complicated look flits over his face. He takes a half-step back, glint fading from those gorgeous blue eyes.

“Of course, if you’re not amenable, I do understand⎯”

“Are you kidding me!?” Jimmy asks, a little too loudly, but he can’t help it. Scott stares at him, one eyebrow lifted. “Of course I want to ally with you! Just tell me what we have to do, I’ll do it, I swear. This is⎯ Oh, gods, this is amazing, thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me.” Scott seems amused, however. “It’s beneficial to us both, Codfather. I ought to be thanking you for your acceptance, rather.”

“As if I’d say no.” This whole scene feels surreal, honestly. Jimmy half-wonders if the champagne he drank earlier had hallucinogenic properties. Scott’s ears flick briefly before settling, perhaps as the elf realised he’d allowed them to. Jimmy noticed that he tended to keep that reaction tightly under wraps, like someone would scold him if they noticed his ears were moving. Or maybe it was just Scott’s aloof strategy, to ensure that none of them could properly read him. He knows that if he’d still been a canary, he’d be jealous that Scott has some control over them. His head-wings had been entirely involuntary, just like Grian’s still are.

“There are a few Rivendell traditions we have to observe before cementing our alliance, but I can arrange those. You’ll have to build an embassy, of course. Other signing than the official paperwork, which I will deliver after my advisors draw it up, I don’t believe there’s anything in particular you have to do.” Scott tilts his head slightly, exposing more of his pale neck to the moonlight. Jimmy’s mouth feels dry as his eyes trace along the curve of it, making their way up to Scott’s steady gaze. “Is there anything I must do to prove my loyalty to you, Codfather?”

“Hm? Oh!” Jimmy flushes, and then a slow smile spreads over his lips as Scott’s question settles in. Glee overwhelms him. “Well, there is one little thing…”

“And what would this one little thing be?” Scott’s voice has dropped, almost, becoming low and intimate. Jimmy doesn’t know what spurred on the change, but he isn’t exactly complaining. It’s like he can feel every word in Scott’s smooth Rivendellian accent dragging along his skin and through to his bloodstream.

“How do you feel about water?” Jimmy asks cheerfully, grin widening. Scott blinks, and then his pretty blue eyes narrow.

“Elves don’t swim.”

“Weeelll…” Jimmy draws out the word playfully. “You don’t have to swim, exactly, but you do have to get wet.”

“Oh, you don’t say?” Scott raises an eyebrow, inappropriate implications written all over his face and his smug, knowing smirk. Jimmy splutters, turning red.

“Not like that!”

“You’re so easy to rile up, Codfather,” Scott coos. “It’s adorable.”

“Oh my goodness. You can’t⎯” Jimmy gives up, cutting off the sentence there with an exasperated groan. “Just bring clothes you don’t mind…submerging. I promise you won’t drown, and you don’t have to swim. It’s a trust exercise, that’s all.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Scott hums, flashing sharp teeth when he grins. “I’m looking forward to it, Codfather.”

“And, oh, that’s another thing!” Jimmy says brightly. “My allies get to call me by my name. It’s Jimmy! Codfather and cod hybrid extraordinaire, at your service!” He does a silly flourish and a bow, straightening a second later to see Scott’s reaction. The elf seems genuinely surprised, likely not for the last time around him. Jimmy guesses he’s just too unpredictable, and that’s why he catches Scott off-guard so much.

“Of course,” agrees Scott, although something deep in his eyes looks like he’s feeling out of his depth. Like someone tossed him off the shelf break before he’d even finished getting equipped with the shallows. “Very well. It’s nice to meet you…Jimmy.”

Oh.

Jimmy really likes how Scott says his name.

Intentional, purposeful, like he’s feeling out every letter for itself and grouping them together to make one whole. Like he believes Jimmy is more than the perpetual little brother or the canary in the mines. Like he believes Jimmy is an Emperor, a real one, even though his Empire is struggling. It’s wonderful. It’s not like anything Jimmy’s ever heard before.

“And you may call me Scott, if you like.”

“I would definitely like,” Jimmy agrees, maybe too hastily. Scott merely raises an eyebrow, that tilt to his lips like he’s amused once more. “It’s nice to meet you, Scott. I’m glad we’re becoming allies.”

“Me too, Jimmy, me too.”

It makes him feel giddy to think that Scott is happy to be allies with him, but he can tell the elf wouldn’t lie. For some reason, he trusts Scott already, even if the man hasn’t technically proved himself yet. Something about him just feels so familiar that it’s hard not to trust, and Jimmy’s no stranger to powerful, intense feelings about people he’s never interacted with before. This is a good one, and it’s rare that Jimmy gets those. He decides to indulge where he can.

(His heart settles in his chest. It’s you, it seems to say, there you are. You have been missed.)

⎯⎯⎯

“It’s good to have you back, sire,” One of Jimmy’s advisors greets as he touches down on the soft, muddy ground of the Codlands. Jimmy beams, adjusting his shoulders as the full weight of gravity settles on him once more. His elytra hang heavy against his back; Jimmy’ll have to remember to take them off soon, if he doesn’t want to have an aching spine for the next few weeks. “I’m afraid our west defence needs shored up. There were waves coming in from Oceania that damaged the fencing.”

“I’ll look into it as soon as possible,” Jimmy promises, making a mental note not to forget about it. He’s sure he has the supplies, but he can trade with Joel if need be. The man is always experimenting with redstone, and thus always needs slime for sticky pistons. “Were there any letters delivered while I was gone, Goby? Or requests for slime?”

“Not that I’m aware of, sire. Are you expecting anything in particular?” Goby asks, one eyebrow raised. Jimmy shrugs, adopting a casual expression. Scott had said he’d deliver the papers himself, and he doesn’t know if the elf has even made it back to Rivendell from House Blossom yet. It usually takes Jimmy nearly a day’s worth of flying to get back to the Codlands, and Rivendell’s mountain weather is unpredictable. Scott left early to avoid that sort of thing, a few days quicker than the rest of the emperors, but he still could’ve gotten caught out.

“Nope,” Jimmy says, rocking back on the balls of his feet. “Just wondering⎯”

“Tadley! Tadley, where are you?!” There’s a distant, motherly shout from the direction of the village. Jimmy turns around in worry only for there to be a wet thwack! against his face. The ball bounces off of his forehead and lands on the ground, leaving Jimmy blinking swamp water out of his eyes. A small child looks up at him, one hand outstretched for their ball. They’re barely old enough to have gotten their legs, still toddling around with chubby cheeks and scales wrapping around most of their skin.

“Well, hello there,” Jimmy says, smiling, careful not to show off his pointed teeth. They can be frightening for little kids. He kneels down, picking up the squishy ball, made of thick moss and other swamp flora and bound together with frayed rope. The child blinks slowly at him, a thin film still clinging to their eyes from their tadpole stage. They must not be able to see very much right now. “Is this yours?”

“Mine,” The child insists, now frowning. They reach out with both hands, making a grabby gesture. “Mine!”

“Alright, alright,” Jimmy says with a laugh. “Yours, yes, I know. Are you Tadley?”

“Tadley,” The child mimics, then pokes their own chest. “Name is Tadley!”

“Nice to meet you, Tadley. I’m Jimmy. Can you say that? Jimmy?” He repeats cajolingly, carefully placing the swamp ball back into Tadley’s hands. Tadley clings to it possessively, looking down at it before turning their face in Jimmy’s vague direction. They can probably see most basic shapes and light, but not colour yet, and it would make sense for them to still be relying on verbal cues over visual.

“Jim…J’mmy!” Tadley declares, squeezing the ball and getting swamp water all over their hands and arms. Jimmy grins.

“That’s right. Jimmy. Now, whaddya say we find your mama, Tadley? You wanna come with me?” He holds out a hand, making sure to put it directly in front of Tadley where more light is. Tadley pauses for a second, fiddling with their ball as they figure out how to hold it and reach for Jimmy’s hand. Eventually, they squish the ball into the crook of their elbow and cling to Jimmy’s hand with their other, their grip impressively tight.

“Sire⎯” Goby tries to protest. Tadley’s head snaps towards the new sound, their hand squeezing Jimmy’s as they huddle closer to him in fear. Jimmy glares at his advisor, who recoils slightly and gives an apologetic frown.

“Don’t tell me whatever you have is important enough that I can’t return a lost child to their mother, Goby.” Jimmy’s tone makes it perfectly clear what he thinks of that sentiment. Goby winces before nodding.

“Of course not, sire. Forgive me.”

“You’re forgiven,” Jimmy says, much kinder than he was two seconds ago. He offers a bright smile to Goby before turning his back to the advisor and looking down at Tadley. He taps the back of their hand with his thumb, earning that wide-eyed gaze back on his face. “Let’s go find your mama, Tadley.”

“Mama,” Tadley says, lower lip trembling. “Mama? Mama!”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes, walking in the direction of the village and away from his house. He lives so close that it’s not uncommon to see children playing outside around his yard, but it’s still far enough that a child could get lost. There’s little danger in Tadley drowning, but the woods that borders where Jimmy lives is full of animals who’d happily eat a small cod child. Not to mention the mobs, in the places where it’s dark enough. “We’re gonna find her, Tadley. I promise.”

“Mama,” Tadley repeats in a smaller voice, tears slipping down their cheeks. “Want Mama…”

“We’re almost there to your mama, Tadley. Do you want me to carry you?” Jimmy knows they’ll make faster time that way, but he’s more than happy to keep walking, too. It’s more important to keep Tadley calm and not send them into defence mode than it is to arrive quickly at the village. He can deal with a feral cod child, but he doesn’t want Tadley to have the traumatic experience of shifting and growing fangs and claws so young.

“Uppies?” Tadley asks, quiet, hopeful. Jimmy laughs lightly.

“Yes, Tadley, uppies. You want uppies?”

“P’ease?”

“Alright, I’m gonna pick you up now,” Jimmy warns, letting go of Tadley’s hand as he leans down. He holds them firmly under the armpits before shifting and settling them on his hip, one arm wrapped around their back for support. The swamp ball makes a wet, squishy noise as it gets smashed between Jimmy’s side and Tadley’s chest. It’s soaking through his tunic, but Jimmy doesn’t really care. His fancy clothes never last long in the Codlands, anyway. “There we go. Now let’s get to your mama, Tadley.”

“Mama!” Tadley repeats, sounding excited.

“That’s right,” Jimmy agrees as he walks into the hustle and bustle of the village centre. There are children playing by the fountain, vendors haggling across the lily-pad paths, couples walking arm-in-arm, and amidst it all is a frantic woman, looking close to tears as she talks with two of Jimmy’s guards.

“MAMA!” Tadley shrieks, poor eyesight developed just enough to recognise the one who raised them, even from a distance. The woman’s head snaps towards them and her mouth forms a silent echo of Tadley’s name, breaking out into a sprint in order to get to her child.

“Tadley! Oh, Tadley, my baby!” She cries, grabbing them from Jimmy’s arms and cradling them close. She presses their face into the crook of her neck, running a hand across their back and pressing kisses to the side of their head. “Tadley, oh, sweetheart, Tadley. You scared me so much, you scared Mama so much. You can’t do that, baby, you can’t just wander off.”

“Tadley was just fine, ma’am,” Jimmy assures, hoping to placate her. Her eyes widen as she seems to realise for the first time who had her child. “They didn’t get very far, just out past the beaten path and towards my house.”

“Your Majesty,” The woman whispers, stricken. “I’m so sorry⎯”

“Please, don’t apologise!” Jimmy exclaims, feeling sheepish. “It’s okay, it’s fine. How many times do I have to insist on people calling me Jimmy? I’m not even a King, I certainly don’t need the Your Majesty business. It’s okay, really. I’m just glad Tadley’s safe.”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear I took my eyes off them for a second, I’m so sorry⎯” The woman stammers, looking close to crying once again. Jimmy softens, taking a step forwards and gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay. No harm done, you know? Tadley didn’t get hurt and they’re back with you now. You’re not a bad mother! You did exactly what you were supposed to, you told my guards and they would’ve found Tadley if I hadn’t already, I promise. All the watching in the world can’t account for a kid’s wandering spirit.”

“But I…” She pauses, taking Jimmy’s words into consideration. “Thank you, Codfather. Thank you for bringing my baby back to me.”

“Of course!” Jimmy promises, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. Tadley was great company.” The woman manages a wavery smile at that.

“You’re a good man, Codfather. A good man.”

“I try my best,” Jimmy says, feeling bashful. “You let me know if you need anything, alright? You or Tadley. I’ll do what I can to help.” He makes the same promises to his subjects regularly, but most of the time he worries that it doesn’t sink in. The cod are a tightly knit group, even more so after what happened in the civil war, and it can be hard to trust a young upstart hybrid who waltzed into their home and started ruling without having personally lived through those events.

Jimmy knows none of his people doubt his claim to the throne, but he also knows that there can be resentment, since he wasn’t around to truly grasp the magnitude of the war against salmon.

“We will,” The woman promises, still clutching Tadley with all her strength. “Thank you so much again, Codfather. I don’t know what I’d’ve done if…”

“Let’s not think about ‘what ifs’, ma’am,” Jimmy says soothingly. “It does no good for anyone. Now, I’m gonna get back to my advisor, if you don’t need anything?”

“Not right now, thank you,” She says, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Bye, Codfather. Can you say bye to the Codfather, Tadley?” The child lifts their head from their mother’s neck, face turned in Jimmy’s direction. They lift the swamp ball, throwing it with a thwack against Jimmy’s chest. The mother looks scandalised but Jimmy just laughs, catching the ball before it hits the ground.

“Bye-bye, Tadley,” Jimmy says, carefully tossing it back into their arms.

“Bye-bye, J’mmy!” Tadley repeats, a wide smile stretching across their face.

Jimmy’s barely made it halfway back to his house before he becomes distinctly aware of someone following him. It’s impressive, really, that he didn’t notice before⎯ Not many people can walk in the Codlands without making some amount of noise. The ground sticks to most outsiders’ shoes, and his own subject wouldn’t bother to tail him invisibly. It’s not as if he hears the person, either, but he just senses them. Sometimes, he wonders if it’s a leftover effect from his life as a canary hybrid, this unshaken awareness of himself, when he’s being watched, all of his surroundings. Regardless, it helps in this life, and he can always tell when someone’s following him. Jimmy stops in the middle of the path, tilting his head slightly and pretending to bask in the sunlight as he determines just where…

“Ack! Jimmy!” A familiar voice exclaims, suddenly phasing into visibility with Jimmy’s arm braced against his neck.

“Oh my gosh!” Jimmy shouts, immediately stumbling back. “Scott! I’m so sorry, I never would’ve⎯ I never meant to do this to you! I had no idea it was you, actually, oh, goodness, please don’t break off the alliance!”

“I’m not going to⎯” Scott laughs, cheeks flushed with breathlessness. “Jimmy. Calm down, please. I’m surprised that you knew I was there.” Today, in the glittering sunlight, Scott shines brightly. His clothes are more laidback than Jimmy would expect, a one-piece blue and white striped cotton bathing suit that ends above his knees and elbows underneath a sheer, shimmering white cover-up. It looks finer than gossamer, and definitely more expensive than anything Jimmy would own, but still disarmingly casual. Jimmy’s eyes travel upwards, finally landing on the heavy wings adorning Scott’s back. They’re thick, made of carefully sculpted feathers of ice, bristling slightly underneath Jimmy’s gaze. The level of detail on them is so magnificent that it’s like the breath has been punched from his chest.

He gets flashes, sometimes, of being a canary. Taking to the skies with Pearl and Grian, feeling wind between his own feathers, the aches that would plague him if he kept his wings too still or too tightly pinned against his back. He remembers flying like it was a lover. He misses it, always. He loves the water, knows that the Ocean is his home, but oh, he misses flying. An elytra isn’t the same, never could be, too clunky and mechanical and whatever else. The set he’s wearing is durable and amazing, but it’s still made of thin, grey membrane and bones of metal. It could never be like his wings. Jimmy loved his wings.

And these⎯ Scott’s wings are thrilling. They’re beautiful. His fingers twitch with the urge to touch.

“Oh,” Jimmy says, amazed. Scott winces, taking a step back.

“Sorry. I normally glamour them, I know they’re not the prettiest.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jimmy asks, incredulous. Scott blinks at him slowly. He’s wearing less jewellery this time, but his ears drip with these long, delicate chains, little blue crystals pinned against pale skin. “They’re⎯ They’re amazing. They’re capable of flight? Do you know what a miracle that is? Did you make them like that? I heard that you could control ice, but the detail on these…”

“I didn’t⎯…Ah, thank you,” says Scott finally, still looking a little dazed, like he can’t quite believe what Jimmy’s saying. “I’m more interested in how you knew I was following you, to be honest.”

“Oh, that?” Jimmy shrugs, bashful. “Instinct. I’m not followed very much here, but… Y’know, it never hurts to be prepared. I’ve got, uh, an affinity, I guess? For knowing when I’m being watched. You were very good, don’t worry! And your glamour is one of the most impressive ones I’ve seen.”

“Thank you,” Scott repeats, smoother this time. “I’ve known glamour my whole life, it’s something I grew very adept at. It’s how I can disguise my wings so easily. Tell me, do you make a habit of rescuing lost little children in your Empire often?”

“Oh, you saw that?” Jimmy’s laugh is almost more of a giggle, all fresh and fluttery like it’s coming from a teenager rather than the grown man he is. His face feels warm. “I just…step in where needed, you know. And, really, I mean, Tadley wasn’t even one of the worse cases. I’ve dealt with the feral codlings before, and it always sucks.”

“Feral codlings?” Scott repeats, clearly mystified.

“Mhm,” Jimmy shrugs, swinging his arms as he begins to walk backwards. Scott follows without questioning it, which is mildly endearing, for some reason. “When we’re born, after we hatch from the egg, we’re these little tiny codlings. And I guess the best way to describe it would be like when frogs grow? There’s a tadpole stage, and then we grow legs, and eventually we can come out of the water. There’s blindness for about a year⎯ Tadley was almost finished with that phase! And then our scales start to flake away to leave us with the distinctive markings we’ll have as adults, and we start learning to shift fluidly between fish and hybrid form.”

“And what happens when they become feral?”

“So, it typically only occurs before puberty, before our scales have finished flaking away… Technically it can happen while we’re teenagers, but it’s so low of a chance. Going feral happens when a codling feels threatened or overwhelmed. It’s a trauma response, a built in last-defence system. A lost child, for example, can be easily triggered if they don’t trust who’s rescuing them. If that happens, the tadling grows claws and fangs and becomes, uhh… feral. Violent and aggressive. They can be coaxed back to their normal state, but the talons and fangs remain. It’s just…” Jimmy sighs, feeling sad. “It sucks, is all. That memory never goes away. It stares us in the face every time we catch our reflection.”

“You speak from experience?” Scott’s question is gentle, but probing nonetheless. Jimmy flashes a bright smile, showing off his sharp teeth.

“What gave it away?” He laughs. “Yeah, I do. It’s okay! The memory is kinda hazy after so long. It happened when I was barely old enough to walk on land. It was when Lizzie gave me up.”

“Oh,” says Scott, sounding remorseful. Jimmy blanches, throwing his hands up.

“Oh wait! No, not like that! I mean, Lizzie didn’t purposely give me up. I was still breathing underwater, and she gave me the Codhead⎯ the first version⎯ and fought off salmon soldiers so I could survive and escape.” Jimmy really isn’t affected by the memories after so long. It’s been years since he’s genuinely thought about that happening, and after he regained his memories of his life as a canary, it sort of faded into the background. Traumatic experiences can shape a person, and he’s sure his do, but it’s not something that occupies his time.

“Wow. I’m impressed,” Scott says, apparently meaning it. Jimmy grins. “I thought my family history was crazy. Guess I’ve got nothing on the resident seablings of the nation, hm?”

“Yep! We’re a freakshow, a little bit.” Jimmy laughs, turning around and noticing that they’ve made it within view of Goby. He offers a joyful wave. His advisor has a pinched expression on his face, something that fades into shock the minute he realises who’s walking slightly behind Jimmy. “C’mon, meet my advisor! Goby, this is the King of Rivendell, our newest alliance. Scott, meet Goby.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Goby,” Scott says delicately once they stop in front of him, inclining his head politely. He’s so prim and perfect, even in casual swim-clothes. At least, as casual as Rivendellians are likely to get. He’s glamoured his wings, and probably did so the second before they came into view of Goby. Jimmy didn’t notice.

“Your⎯ Your Majesty, erm, it’s nice to meet you, too.” Goby stammers, bowing at a nearly ninety-degree angle. Jimmy smirks. It’s good to know that he isn’t the only one who gets all flustered and nervous in Scott’s presence. The elf simply has that way about him, clearly. His advisor’s face makes a complicated expression as he takes in Scott’s style of dress. It slowly turns to horror as his gaze travels to Jimmy, looking every bit a wide-eyed fish out of water. “Sire… Please tell me you are not about to do what I think you’re about to do.”

“Oh, Goby,” Jimmy says gleefully. “I am absolutely about to do what you think I am.”

“The trust exercise, correct?” Scott asks, one eyebrow arched. Goby gapes at the sheer nerve of it all, head swivelling as he looks between each of them.

“Sire, you can’t possibly⎯”

“Just because he’s the King of Rivendell doesn’t mean he’s exempt from the same thing everyone else had to go through, Goby! Katherine did it and Joel did it and Lizzie didn’t, but, well, it’s hard to do a trust exercise on my ten-foot-tall older sister, so…” Jimmy shrugs, glancing at Scott with a wide smile. “You’re still up for it, aren’t you, Scott?”

“Of course.” Scott says it like it shouldn’t even be a question, like his trust is guaranteed, implicit in every breath he breathes. Jimmy doesn’t know why, doesn’t understand how Scott can feel more familiar than every friend he’s made in this lifetime, than anyone except his siblings. He chooses not to question it.

“Great,” Jimmy says emphatically, beaming. Scott raises an eyebrow at the show of enthusiasm but doesn’t voice either questions or concern. Goby is still horrified, of course, looking to be on the verge of a heart attack. Jimmy doesn’t even know if cod hybrids get heart attacks, and he doesn’t want to find out via his advisor keeling over from shock. “Goby, calm down. It’ll only be half a minute at best. Elves don’t swim, and it’s not like I’m going to put him in danger.”

“This whole thing is, is, is ridiculous! Our first true alliance of such great wealth and magnitude and you want to put him in swamp water!?”

“Goby. Rude!” Jimmy chastises, frowning. Goby doesn’t seem very regretful. “Our swamp water is fine! Healthy, even. Now please, calm down and be quiet. You know the trust exercise is supposed to be a surprise. Are you still good to keep time or do you want me to get someone else for that?”

“No, no, I can do it,” Goby says insistently, probably because he wants to make sure Jimmy really only does hold Scott underwater for half a minute. “Shall I lead the way, sire?” 

“If you would,” Jimmy agrees. He and Scott trail a few feet behind Goby, who begins walking in the direction of the dock just past Jimmy’s house. There, the water is shallow before a deeper drop-off. It’s where all of the trust exercises have taken place. As they walk, Jimmy finds his gaze trailing to the space behind Scott’s back, where he knows those pretty wings are. He’s not good at glamour or any sort of natural magic aside from his cod-related abilities, so he wonders how it feels. If Scott is still aware of his wings or if they become muted.

“You’re staring,” Scott murmurs, gaze facing forward. Jimmy flushes at being caught out, mouth dropping open to stammer some excuse or fumbling explanation. “It’s fine, Jimmy. You can be curious.”

“I just⎯” Jimmy realises that he’s still staring, only now it’s at Scott’s face, which might be worse than the empty air where his wings are supposed to be. His face burns even hotter and he fixes his eyes on Goby’s back instead. “Um. Can you feel them? Or is it muffled or something? Does it feel weird?”

“Mm. I suppose.” Scott sounds appraising, like he’s giving Jimmy’s questions genuine thought again. He wonders if Scott is just like that, devoting all of his attention to whomever he’s speaking with. He must assume that Scott does. There’s no reason Jimmy would be special. “I’m…aware of them to an extent, but I’d never try to fly while I have them glamoured. It’s a complicated bit of magic, because I need them both intangible and invisible. I know they’re there, and I can move them with some concentration, but it’s nothing like when I don’t glamour them.”

“It doesn’t hurt to have them glamoured for so long? I mean, no one even knows you have wings, right? No one talks about it at the meetings, at least.” Jimmy makes a habit of keeping open ears anytime someone mentions the King of Rivendell. He’d know if the House Blossom Alliance talked about Scott’s wings. The elf in question makes some small, amused noise.

“It can take a mental toll, all the glamour. I get migraines occasionally, especially if I’m overwhelmed. But no, Jimmy. No one knows I have wings except my allies.”

“And me,” Jimmy adds unthinkingly, before a smile spreads across his lips. “Except I am your ally, now! It still hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Yes, you are.” Scott’s tone is warm with an edge of humour, but it doesn’t sound as if he’s making fun of Jimmy. It’s just…there, present and intoxicating. Jimmy’s beginning to realise that spending time in Scott’s presence is like a high he can’t replicate on his own. “I hope it will sink in soon, as I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

Before Jimmy can figure out a response to that, or a name for the glowing ember of unfiltered joy and relief and contentedness in his chest, he nearly smacks into Goby’s back as his advisor stops walking.

“We’re here, sire,” Goby says, perhaps on the wrong side of dry. Jimmy gives him a sharp glance, a silent warning against saying anything. His advisor has seen him make a fool of himself many times and probably will continue to, so he knows when Jimmy has a crush, for lack of a better word. Of course, Goby’s loyalty is as unparalleled as his advice, so he simply nods and mimes zipping his lips with a fake key. Jimmy hopes Scott doesn’t notice the movement.

“Great!” He says, clapping his hands together as he looks out across the lake. It’s the biggest one in the Codlands, and the mild currents give enough disturbance that very little algae grows across it, meaning it’s also one of the cleanest-looking lakes. Of course, Jimmy knows all about the health benefits of algae for water and cod hybrids themselves, but he can understand that most outsiders find it gross. He doesn’t like it, but he can understand. Glancing at Scott, he finds the elf viewing the water with no small amount of apprehension. 

“Would you like me to get your elytra?” Scott asks politely as he turns that blue gaze back on Jimmy. The apprehension disappears underneath a thick layer of cool, collected calm, and idly Jimmy wonders just how used his new ally is to throwing up masks. Like an iceberg, he imagines. Chipping away at the first layer only to realise that there are hundreds, thousands more below that.

“You’d do that?” Jimmy asks, now registering the question. Scott blinks at him with a small, amused smirk.

“Yes, Jimmy. I wouldn’t have offered, otherwise.”

“Well then, yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind, I don’t mind, please⎯” Jimmy closes his mouth with an audible click, cutting off his embarrassing stammering. He can only hope the red surely spread out across his skin isn’t too noticeable. Maybe he can blame it on the gentle sunlight. Scott doesn’t take Jimmy’s stammers for hesitance, only making a small ‘ turn-around’ motion that Jimmy is all too happy to obey. He nearly trips over his own two feet as he puts his back to Scott, thinking privately that this is its own form of trust exercise.

It feels that way, regardless. Like Jimmy’s baring his most vulnerable place, even if the elytra are fake and he has no wing-roots to speak of.

“Deep breath for me,” Scott murmurs, so close to his ear that Jimmy feels the words against his skin. He listens, of course, feeling the elytra straps dig into his skin. “Good. Let it out slowly there.” Scott’s fingertips brush against his back and Jimmy feels them like a brand even through the fabric of his fancy, muddy tunic. He undoes the buckles with a lightning-quick precision, loosening the pressure against Jimmy’s back and chest within a few short seconds. Jimmy sort of hates that he’s so efficient. He wants Scott’s hands touching him like this all the time, intimate and vulnerable all the same.

“Thanks,” Jimmy says as he turns back around, grinning. He knows he’s still blushing, but Scott has the decency not to mention it. He shrugs his shoulders and the elytra clatters to the ground in an undignified heap. Scott’s mouth tightens at the corners while the look on Jimmy’s face turns mischievous. “Time to get wet!”

“I suppose it is,” Scott agrees. Jimmy may not have been involved in many direct conversations with him, but he knows that Scott hardly misses an opportunity to make a dirty joke. The fact that he lets this one slide by is a testament to how truly nervous he is⎯ and how much he trusts Jimmy to go through with it still. Jimmy’s heart does something funny in his ribcage.

“Goby’ll keep track of the time. All you have to do is trust me,” He says, gentler than he thinks he’s ever spoken before. Scott smiles, shoulders relaxing as he becomes all smooth, confident, collected lines. Maybe this is another mask, but if it is, Jimmy can’t tell. All he sees is Scott, standing there, wings hidden because he hates the way they look, wearing what’s probably the most casual outfit he could muster for Jimmy, and choosing to trust him.

“Not a problem.”

“Wanna hold hands?”

“Bit forward of you, isn’t it, Codfather?”

“You don’t know how to swim,” Jimmy explains, extending his hand with a curious tilt of his head. For the first time, he sees a little of Scott’s composure slip as twin spots high on his cheeks turn pink. The elf doesn’t say anything but carefully unties his sheer cover-up, allowing it to slip down to his shoulders. Before he puts it on the ground, he folds it. Despite the mud that soaks into the fabric as soon as Scott places it down, he doesn’t seem to care. “That’s the spirit!” Jimmy cheers as Scott’s hand slides into his own.

It’s colder than Jimmy expected, but he doesn’t mind. He runs hot, even being a cod hybrid⎯ Most of his subjects run neutral, instead, often reflecting the temperature of the weather without either overheating or getting hypothermia. Scott’s hand is soft, but there are distinct calluses in place for a builder. He always assumed that Scott oversaw his builds, but this suggests Scott does a particular amount of work on them himself. Their fingers interlock comfortably and Jimmy grins, hoping very desperately that his own isn’t slimy or too off-putting with the scales.

He pulls Scott gently towards the water, putting his back to it so he can keep a careful eye on Scott’s face while he does so. It’s to make the elf more at ease, but also because the point of the exercise is that the participant trusts him. Not the water. Joel hadn’t grown up around water, living in Mezalea, but he had fallen in love with Lizzie at a very young age and spent so much time around the Ocean as a result that Jimmy’s lake didn’t scare him. Doing it this way made it easier for Joel to put his life in Jimmy’s hands, not the water’s touch. Jimmy’s feet sink into silt as they reach about knee-deep in the water, and he breaks out of his thoughts to look at Scott’s face.

“Doing okay?” Jimmy checks in, even though it feels silly to be asking Scott, the King of Rivendell, if he’s alright. Then Scott takes a shaky breath in. His pretty blue eyes aren’t even looking at Jimmy, only down, wide as they stare into murky water. He’s too refined to allow his grip to tighten on Jimmy’s hand, but the fear is there all the same. Carefully, Jimmy squeezes his hand, making Scott’s gaze snap to his.

“What?” The question is barely more than a breath, sharp and aggravated. Then Scott’s eyes widen briefly and he flinches. “I mean⎯”

“It’s not that elves don’t swim, is it?” Jimmy says in realisation. “It’s that you don’t swim.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The rebuttal, if it could even be called that, is weak. Jimmy stands there, only marvelling at the fact that Scott is scared of water and still chose to enter an alliance with him. Still held out, even though Jimmy told him from the beginning this trust exercise would involve water.

“Scott,” he says, his tone some terribly conflicting mixture of emotions.

“It’s not a fear.” Scott says, voice wavery. “It’s just⎯ It’s a dislike. I don’t like the water. It’s okay. I trust you. By Aeor, I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I do. Let me trust you, Jimmy.”

“Okay. Okay. Do you want me to tell you what’s going to happen?” Jimmy’s actually pretty proud of himself for not reflecting Scott’s anxiety and freaking out in return. He doesn’t always keep a cool head in a crisis. Not if it’s personal, anyway.

“No! It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Scott, the only people I’ve done this to are Joel and Katherine,” Jimmy says with a small, faint laugh. “Joel is married to the personification of the Ocean’s Blessing. Katherine has a pond with literal baby ducks that she spends summers in. This is not the same thing! The surprise is supposed to be for the trust element, but you’re in the water. For me. I think that qualifies!”

“It’s a rule, Jimmy,” Scott says, firm and almost pouting. The way he says his name is borderline whiny with how much of a complaint it is. It’s adorable. Jimmy grins toothily at him.

“We can break the rule.”

“We are not breaking the rule,” Scott returns flatly. Jimmy feels indescribably fond. This stubborn, infuriating, wonderful, amazing elf is going to do him in, that’s for sure. Heart attack via affection overload or something crazy.

“Okay. I’m gonna talk you through it then, yeah? You just keep your eyes on me.” Jimmy encourages, taking one small step back. Scott’s breath hitches as he follows, but he listens, training those unrelenting blue eyes on Jimmy. It’s a little overwhelming, all that attention, but Jimmy tries to bear it with grace. His face feels warm, still. He’s cursed to be an over-blusher in Scott’s presence. “We’re going to walk back until the water is at chest-level. Here, give me your other hand.”

“You should feel lucky,” Scott breathes, hardly blinking. “I rarely do this much affection until the second date.”

“You are⎯” Jimmy starts, then stops, flustered. “Give me your hand, Scott.” The elf smirks, smug, but slips his other hand into Jimmy’s waiting one. “Okay. It gets deeper here, there’ll be almost like a step down. We’re just about at…chest-level. Here we are. You good, Scott?”

“Define good.” Scott says, voice like ice. Jimmy smiles and squeezes both of Scott’s hands groundingly in his own.

“We’re doing it. I have to let go of your hands. Do you want to close your eyes?”

“Yes. No. You have pretty eyes, you know that?” Scott says it conversationally, or it would be, if Scott’s voice wasn’t so worryingly breathy. Jimmy blinks before smiling slowly. It’s a sweet compliment.

“You’re just trying to butter me up so I don’t kill you.”

“Is it working?” Scott returns dryly.

“Mhm. You’re doing great. Flattery works real good with me.”

“Thanks. I’m letting go of your hands. If you drown me I will come back to haunt you, and make sure Rivendell is taken care of.” Scott does let go of his hands, then, even though he’s metaphorically shaking from fear. He doesn’t physically shake, of course. He has too much control for that. Jimmy’s smile softens.

“If you drown, can I have Rivendell?”

“Your jokes are just so funny, Jimmy, really.”

“I like your eyes, too, Scott.” He says, ignoring the sarcasm. Scott’s pretty blush spreads across the bridge of his nose. Jimmy slips his one arm around Scott’s waist and pulls him close, making the elf look entirely surprised. “Don’t fight it.” It’s the last thing he says before he puts his other palm flat against Scott’s chest and shoves him underwater. Scott’s eyes widen before they slam shut. He doesn’t fight it, just like Jimmy told him not to, and he goes gently.

“Ten seconds, sire,” Goby calls from shore. Scott’s hand comes up to scrabble against Jimmy’s, scraping along the scales that wrap around his palm and end in a spiral on the back of his hand. His eyes are still shut, and Jimmy keeps holding him underwater. “Twenty, sire.” Jimmy loosens the pressure slightly on Scott’s chest, and the elf’s other hand digs sharp nails into the arm he’s got wrapped around Scott’s waist. “And…Thirty! Thirty, sire!”

Jimmy forcibly lifts Scott from the water and the elf breaks the surface with a gasp, soaked curls flattened to his head as those blue, blue, blue eyes open to stare at Jimmy. He flips his hand around and Scott grabs it like a lifeline, his breaths coming in shuddery gasps as his other arm slings around Jimmy’s neck. Jimmy holds him close, keeping his arm around Scott’s waist and hugging him, for lack of a better descriptor. He can almost feel it as Scott’s heartbeat settles to match his own where their chests are pressed together.

“Hey,” Jimmy says. Scott’s hand grips his tight enough to hurt. He doesn’t care. “Hey. You’re okay. You’re okay. You did it. You did great, Scott.”

“If you ever do that to me again,” Scott pauses, breathing harshly. “I will freeze your dick off.” The threat seems to be completely sincere as he looks into Jimmy’s eyes, but it startles a laugh from him anyway.

“You trust me,” He teases, still laughing. Scott rolls his eyes, tossing his head back as swamp water drips from his hair and earrings. He’s beautiful. Jimmy might not be able to drown, but it feels like he’s suffocating all the same, becoming extremely aware of Scott’s small waist under his grasp and their fingers laced together. It’s intimate. Jimmy is absolutely not letting go first.

“You need to shut up,” Scott mutters, sarcastic and caustic. Jimmy grins. “Carry me back to shore.”

“Demanding,” Jimmy tuts. Scott glares at him.

“Please.” It’s said through gritted teeth, which doesn’t make it any less sweet for Jimmy personally. He does love victory.

“Look at us being good allies. Hey, you bring your paperwork?” Jimmy sweeps an arm under Scott’s knees and picks him up in a bridal carry, walking back towards Goby. His advisor seems entirely gobsmacked, which is only a little funny. Jimmy ignores him. Goby’s probably stressed about impropriety.

“Of course I did,” Scott sniffs superiorly, both arms situated around Jimmy’s neck. He’s remarkably blasé about this entire situation, so Jimmy decides to treat it as normal as can be, too. Even if his heart feels like it’s gonna burst from his ribcage because Scott is gorgeous and right there and Jimmy’s holding him like they’re something more than they are. They aren’t even friends, just barely allies now! “I left it at your house before you found that little cod child. Glamoured, of course. It was painfully easy. You need a better security system.”

“I will dump you in the water right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Scott’s arms tighten around his neck, belying his confident tone.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Jimmy giggles. “But don’t insult my security system.”

“It’s out of concern! I can’t have a dead ally so soon after getting him. It’d look suspicious.”

“Oh, and that’s the concern, huh? That you’d be a suspect in my murder?”

“Mhm,” Scott hums, bright-eyed. Jimmy smiles back, unable to help it. He makes it out of the water, adjusting his grip on Scott as gravity settles back in fully. “Going to put me down anytime soon, Jimmy?”

“You’ll collapse like a newborn fawn the second I do,” Jimmy teases. Scott scowls at him.

“I will not.”

“My house is right there! I can carry you that far.”

“Stubborn,” Scott clicks his tongue, like he isn’t the exact same, especially with that whole ‘don’t break rules’ conversation he just pulled.

“Maybe. Guess you’re just gonna have to deal with it if we’re allies now, aren’t you?”

“I guess,” Scott allows, but he sounds fond. Jimmy’s heart warms in his chest.

“I meant what I said, you know. You have really beautiful eyes.”

“Thanks, Jimmy. That’s not what you said, but thanks.” Scott’s smirk is sharp, overly confident and very attractive. Jimmy flushes as he realises that the elf is right. He makes some vague, undefined sputtering noise and Scott’s smirk only grows. “Oh, you are too much fun to mess with, Jimmy.”

“Shut up, Scott.”

“Rude.” Scott’s eyes sparkle. Those feelings in Jimmy’s chest, the warm, indescribable ones that have made a home in his ribcage, only seem to grow.

(Green eyes⎯ Yellow eyes⎯ Red eyes⎯ His eyes have not always been blue, but he has always been yours.)

⎯⎯⎯

A warm spring day finds Jimmy not at home, not in his own lovely Empire, but rather, in the dry heat of Mezalea. 

The Empire itself is beautiful. Joel knows how to build, that’s for certain, even if he’d never tell the man that. When Jimmy blinks, flashes of white marble and gold and a great booming voice nearly overtake him, but then he adjusts and only sees the massive, brightly-coloured buildings of Mezalea instead. He likes Mezalea for the sake of the architecture, but Jimmy still prefers to spend as little time as possible in the Empire. It’s so hot, and the people all share Joel’s snappy, fast-paced aggression for improvement, not to mention his infamous temper. Now, the man stands in front of him, looking as annoyingly put-together as always. Jimmy glares.

“Shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything!” Joel’s wearing a shit-eating smirk.

“You are,” Jimmy complains. “I can feel it.”

“Oh, well if you can feel me saying nothing, then by all means⎯” Joel returns, sarcastic and annoyed. Jimmy keeps glaring at him. The dry wind of Mezalea caresses his skin. He silently longs for damp, muddy shallows and an overcast sky.

“Do you want your slime or not?”

“What I want is to know why you’re wearing jewellery. You don’t even like jewellery. And it’s gold…and blue…and white… Tell me, what are the colours of Rivendell again?” Joel’s smirk is abrasively smug as it grows bigger, like a cod who got the kelp. Jimmy glares harder, shifting the cache of slime under his arm.

“It’s nothing!”

“Jim, this is taking the whole pining thing to a new low if you’re making jewellery to represent ‘im. I mean, where’d you even get the gold? I thought your Empire was down on its luck when it came to riches?” The crown on Joel’s head tilts dangerously to the side. Jimmy wonders if it will fall and shatter if he stares at it long enough. He kind of hopes it does, even if it would be a pain to replace.

“I didn’t make this myself,” Jimmy mutters through gritted teeth. Really, this is his own fault. He forgot to take the earrings off before he went over to Mezalea and by the time he realised, he was halfway there and naively thought that oh, Joel wouldn’t notice! Half the time Joel doesn’t even retrieve the slime himself, he just sends someone else to do it. He hardly ever cares about Jimmy’s appearance either, but of course the one day Jimmy wears his earrings, Joel decides to be an attentive brother in law. Oh, Jimmy’s luck is rotten like a carcass.

“Had it made, then,” Joel corrects, raising an eyebrow with a lazy smirk. Clearly Jimmy needs to work on his glares, if they’re this ineffectual. Or maybe Joel’s just too used to it, like when a person takes too many potions and becomes immune to them. He earns Jimmy’s ire near-constantly, so it wouldn’t be surprising.

“I didn’t have it made, either! Just take your slime!” Jimmy protests, shoving the chest of slime at Joel. The Mad King catches it before putting it on the ground half a second later. He squints suspiciously at Jimmy, who can feel his face heating. He wants to blame it on the dry heat of the mesa, where the sun shines hot nearly all the time, but they’re standing in the comfortable shade of one of the spires right now.

“Who gave it to you?” Realisation dawns in Joel’s eyes. As much as Jimmy likes to rag on him, Joel can be unfortunately observant, and he isn’t stupid. He’s got a temper, but he’s genuinely good at putting together emotional cues. “Have you⎯ Did you actually talk to him!?”

“I didn’t⎯ Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“You did!” Joel is too gleeful about this, honestly. Jimmy keeps glaring. “Jimmy. Jim. This is huge. Are you two courting? Has he asked for Lizzie’s blessing? She’ll scare the shit out of him, you know. She loves an excuse to be intimidating.”

“She doesn’t even need an excuse,” Jimmy claims, rolling his eyes. “And! We’re not courting, oh my gods. We’re allies! That’s it! Elves have this cultural thing with gold, I dunno. I couldn’t exactly refuse without breaking off the alliance. He did my trust exercise, so I had to accept this stuff.”

“You tried to drown the King of Rivendell? Oh, this is too good. I can’t believe it. Did he ice you out for the disrespect?!” Joel’s practically got tears in his eyes from how hard he’s laughing.

“You are way too happy to ask if your brother in law got frozen alive! Prick!”

“Wanker.” Joel returns, unperturbed. “I can’t believe you actually put that stuffy elf in swamp water.”

“He was polite about it,” Jimmy says, frowning. “He’s actually not that stuffy once you talk to him. He’s funny, actually, and really sarcastic. You’d like him if you talked to him!”

“A. I don’t like anyone Lizzie doesn’t like and b. you’re absolutely head over heels smitten with him, why the hell would I trust what you say? Biased, Jim, that’s what you are.”

“Lizzie likes Scott!”

“Oh, really? And that’s why she was so protective of you when you mentioned him at the meeting? Please, Jim. She doesn’t like him, clearly, and even if I don’t know the reason I know better than to start talking to the guy! Talk to Lizzie. If she gives him a chance, I’ll give him a chance.” Joel shrugs, looking far too at ease. Jimmy’s frown deepens.

“She wasn’t saying that because she dislikes Scott, she was saying that because she didn’t want me to get my hopes up, since I’m…y’know. Not good enough or whatever. She knows he’s, like, unattainable.”

“That is the furthest thing from what Lizzie was trying to say,” Joel says, face unreadable. “She’s your sister.”

“I know that,” Jimmy snaps, feeling defensive.

“Well, you sure don’t act like it. If you know that, then you should know she doesn’t always think before saying stuff and it comes out wrong sometimes. You should know that she’d do anything for the people she loves, like you, you idiot. Of course she doesn’t like Scott. He could hurt you way too easily, and she couldn’t get him back, because really it wouldn’t even be his fault.”

“You’re being shockingly helpful right now,” Jimmy says suspiciously. Joel rolls his eyes with an arrogant look.

“I’ve been known to do it occasionally.” He replies, sarcastic. “I love Lizzie. I don’t want this becoming a fight because you were too dumb to pull your head out of your ass.”

“You’re a prick,” Jimmy repeats with emphasis. Joel grins.

“I try my best. Now get outta my kingdom.”

“Like I’d want to stay here anyway, with you!” Jimmy flicks open his elytra, flipping Joel off before taking to the skies. 

He unleashes a rocket and is up, up, and away, the wind carding through his hair and tangling it beyond belief. Oceania is a short flight away from Mezalea, given that they share a border, so soon enough Jimmy touches back down on a sandy beach with waves lapping at his bare feet. His elytra hangs heavy against his back, and Jimmy resents the fact that he has to use them. They’re a spare pair, so theoretically he could just leave them here and hope they don’t get stolen before he comes to retrieve them, but… That seems stupid, even for him. Swimming with them on his back is absolutely a no-go, though. He’ll have to carry them. Jimmy sighs. He undoes the straps with practised, clinical precision, thinking about Scott’s touch the whole time.

Honestly, it’s becoming a bit of a problem, just how often his thoughts stray to the elf.

Jimmy steps forward into the water, elytra tucked tightly under his arm. He’ll be slower with them dragging him behind, but still faster time than if he’d flown over the water to Oceania’s above-water settlements. It’s second nature to seamlessly begin swimming in the direction of Lizzie’s empire, even with the elytra holding him back. Like clockwork, his mind inevitably strays to wondering about Scott. He imagines that the elf is tucked away in his castle, probably surrounded by a council and presiding over some very important Empire-related things. He’s definitely not thinking of Jimmy. That doesn’t stop Jimmy from thinking of him.

The past few weeks have been pretty amazing. Jimmy sees Scott more regularly than he does any of his allies except Lizzie, who he used to see at least twice a week. After the latest House Blossom meeting, he didn’t feel like going, and Lizzie hadn’t come over, either. He’d still been a bit hurt, maybe, over what she said, a hurt that only grew when she didn’t deign to visit even once. But Scott has been more than enough to occupy his time with. He likes the Codlands, genuinely and not just in a way that makes it clear he’s humouring Jimmy like everyone else.

And the gifts.

Scott hadn’t been joking when he mentioned there were a few Rivendell traditions they had to observe before cementing their relationship as allies. The most common one was the display of loyalty, as in, any ally of Rivendell’s would be expected to have some amount of jewellery representing them to wear. Jimmy thinks even just the simple pair of earrings he’s wearing now would’ve been enough for that, but Scott kept showing up and he looked so hopeful each time he presented a piece to Jimmy that he could never say no. Perhaps Scott thinks he needs more upscale stuff in his wardrobe, and that’s why he keeps showering him in finery. The reason doesn’t really matter in the end because…Jimmy kind of loves it.

He’s not a jewellery guy, okay? He builds with his hands and he lives in a swamp, of course he isn’t a jewellery guy, but it’s nice to feel so taken care of. Scott’s good at giving gifts, too. The earrings Jimmy’s wearing now are these adorable, understated studs that make a little poppy flower in diamonds and blue crystals. He never gives Jimmy rings because he knows that Jimmy builds with his hands, and bracelets are discarded for the same reason, plus all the swimming. He has several pairs of earrings now, ranging from so delicate that Jimmy’s afraid to wear them to little ear cuffs that actually work over the thin membrane of his fins without hurting. Only two necklaces, but both of them are so gorgeous that to have more would only feel greedy.

One of them is a simple, delicately woven chain made out of gold filament with a pendant of a stag’s head. Aeor, Scott had told him, the good, noble protector . One of two stag gods that were commonly worshipped in Rivendell. It was something of a protective blessing, Scott mentioned, to be given a representation of Aeor from an elf. Despite his thorough lack of attachment to religion of any kind, considering that the Ocean was the only being of such magnitude Jimmy held in his life, he couldn’t help but be entirely enthralled. It was sweet that Scott cared enough to give him something intentionally meant for protection. Not to mention the pendant itself is gorgeous. It had been hand-carved from a solid gold ingot and two tiny diamonds glittered as eyes while Aeor’s antlers were covered in sparkling blue crystals.

The second necklace is a string of river-worn pearls, apparently fetched from the highest natural spring in Rivendell’s mountains. Scott knows a vendor, or so he’d told Jimmy, who makes the arduous trip every spring and brings down chests of pearls with her in the summer. The pearls are smooth and all uniquely shaped and strung together on some of the finer thread that Rivendell exports; Jimmy loves it. He doesn’t have anywhere to wear it, but it’s such a pretty necklace that he’d hate if it was left to rot in a chest somewhere, so it goes where he does. Merely in his pocket instead of around his neck. Jimmy’s glad he didn’t go visit Joel on one of the occasions when he was feeling indulgent and wearing more than the set of poppy earrings, which he uses daily.

Jimmy’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realise he’s made it into Oceania’s palace until a familiar shout breaks his concentration.

“Jimmy?!” His head snaps up and he looks around, spotting Lizzie a short distance away with an axolotl in her hands. “What are you doing here?” Underwater, Lizzie’s voice takes on a melodic tone, almost like a whale song. Jimmy knows from experience that other water-themed hybrids can’t understand them, the sounds too complex, and land-dwellers only hear nonsensical chattering and shrieks like that of dolphins.

“Lizzie!” Jimmy says joyfully, all hurt forgotten as he swims closer to his sister. He glances with concern at the axolotl, one of the hybrid breeds that Lizzie invented. It’s bigger than the average and a brilliant shade of purple, although it has a sickly look about it tonight. “What’s wrong with them?”

“Trying to figure that out,” Lizzie says tightly, cradling the axolotl close protectively. It makes a small trilling noise before closing its eyes. “I’m supposed to quarantine her, but I can’t bear to leave her alone if she…”

“Of course,” Jimmy says, bleeding sympathy. Lizzie sighs, carefully petting across the axolotl’s head. “Has the sickness spread to the others?” In Lizzie’s rehabilitation centre, that would be positively debilitating. Lizzie shakes her head in the negative and Jimmy gives her a look of relief.

“No. I have my doctors looking into the illness, but it isn’t something we’ve seen before. I’m worried about it affecting my other larger breeds.” Lizzie studies him closely, eyes narrowed. Jimmy looks back in confusion, brow furrowed. It only dawns on him seconds later that⎯ “You’re wearing…earrings. You don’t wear jewellery.”

“I’m trying it out!” Jimmy says hastily. Lizzie squints at him. “How…Um, you like Scott, don’t you? The King of Rivendell?”

“Like him?” Lizzie repeats, tone flat. Jimmy winces, swinging his arm through the water and swaying a little in place. The elytra is light under the other arm, cinched tightly to his side lest it float away. The membrane is so thin that it’s anyone’s guess if it would float or sink to the bottom, but either way, Jimmy doesn’t plan on retrieving it.

“Well, I just mean⎯ Look, don’t get mad, okay, Lizzie?”

“Saying that is a surefire way to make me mad!”

“Don’t be!” Jimmy exclaims, shaking his head. “It’s nothing bad. But Scott and I…might be allies now? He did my trust exercise and everything! He gave me these earrings to wear, since it’s a Rivendellian tradition. And we’ve signed paperwork⎯ yes, I had Goby look at it, I’m not stupid⎯ and the point is that you don’t have to worry. Or be mad. Scott trusts me. He isn’t going to hurt me.”

“I always worry,” says Lizzie, reproachful. “That’s what big sisters do.”

“Well… It’s not like we’re courting, you know. You’re the one who wanted me to make more allies in the first place.” Jimmy doesn’t blush underwater easily, thank goodness, even if he feels warm all over at the mere mention of Scott and him and courting in the same thought. It’s a fleeting daydream, that’s all. Scott would never go for someone like him.

“Are you sure about that?” Lizzie asks, eyebrow raised. Jimmy gapes at her.

“Am I sure that…we’re not courting?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Of course I am!” Jimmy protests, scandalised. “I think I would know if Scott was courting me! And I’m certainly not courting him. Why would you even say that?! You’re the one who told me that he was practically unreachable. It’s a miracle that he offered the alliance at all, I’m not gonna sully it with my unreciprocated feelings.”

“Jimmy…” Lizzie’s got that pitying look on her face again, the one that makes Jimmy want to tear his scales out individually just so he doesn’t have to feel the way his skin crawls. “I’m sorry for that. I love you. He’s⎯ He’s unpredictable, okay? There hadn’t been any guarantee he liked you like that, and elves are notoriously stuffy and pretentious. If you got hurt, I couldn’t protect you. That’s what I know how to do, y’know? If I can’t protect you, I don’t know who I am.”

“You’ll make me cry,” Jimmy accuses, emotional. Lizzie laughs, the sound echoing around them. “It’s okay, Lizzie. You’re forgiven. I love you too.”

“Good.” A mischievous gleam enters Lizzie’s eyes. “You should really send that boytoy of yours to meet me. I know you might not believe you’re courting, but you are, Jimmy, there’s no doubt about it. I dated an elf once, you know. She was lovely, and she told me that elves never give away flowers or any equivalent because it’s a sign of intention. Like, pretty big intention.”

“Lizzie!” Jimmy splutters, shaking his head again. “I’m sorry, but you’re wrong! What century was this, again? Tradition could’ve changed! Besides, I told Scott that I love poppies, so I’m sure that’s why he gave them to me.”

“You’re oblivious, Jimmy.” Lizzie blows a bubble of air at him that Jimmy pops with his pointer finger. “It wasn’t that long ago, besides. Maybe two centuries, being generous. Long before I met Joel.”

“Ew,” Jimmy says before his sister can start on one of her ‘I love my husband so much’ rants. Joel’s much worse, but Lizzie can really get going when she wants to. He has no desire to listen to her extoll Joel’s many virtues, not when he gets enough of it from the man himself. Joel certainly isn’t lacking in pride. “And you’re not meeting Scott. Or, he’s not coming here, at least. He doesn’t like the water.”

“Tough luck,” Lizzie says without an ounce of sympathy. “He’s interested in a cod hybrid, he’s gonna have to deal with it.”

“He is not! And we’re not shoving him fathoms deep just so you can pull that whole intimidation routine of yours! If you want to meet him, you’ll have to come to the swamp just like any other Emperor.” Jimmy still hasn’t been to Rivendell, taking the grace period to think of ideas for his embassy. He doesn’t want it to stand out badly in Scott’s beautiful Empire, of course, but he wants it to stay true to himself. If only those two ideals weren’t so clashing.

“You’re so rude to me.”

“You deserve it.”

“I could kick you out right now!”

“Go ahead. I only came over because your husband was worried, anyway. You should go see him. I think all that heat is getting to his head. Maybe soon he’ll actually become the Mad King of Mezalea,” Jimmy teases, grinning. Lizzie sticks her tongue out at him, nose scrunched. Childishly, Jimmy mimics her.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Lizzie asks, beginning to swim in the direction of her axolotl rehabilitation centre. Jimmy, naturally, follows. “I think Margaret is making your favourite. I’ll send a message to Joel, too, get him to come over. We could make a night of it! We’ll even call Grian and Pearl later on the commcuffs.” Her underwater palace wasn’t the most accessible for the two winged-beings, after all. Joel was different, since he’d been given Lizzie’s Blessing a long time ago. But wings were trickier to save, so they opted for video-chatting when possible.

“Well, if Margaret is making my favourite…” Jimmy leads off meaningfully.

“I see how it is,” Lizzie clicks her tongue. “Using me for food, is that it?”

“Oh, absolutely. I can’t cook worth shit.” He assures, grinning. Lizzie rolls her eyes, but a humoured smile tugs at her lips and displays sharp fangs.

“Far be it from my place to let you starve then, codling!”

“I am a grown man⎯”

“Get taller than ten feet and we’ll talk.”

“Tyrant!”

⎯⎯⎯

Rapid knocking against his front door rips Jimmy from a peaceful slumber. 

He opens crusty eyes, wincing as the racket starts anew. Still, he doesn’t know what the emergency is, and it’s not like he’d ever ignore it. Jimmy swings his legs over the side of his bed and shucks off the comforter, yawning as he pads on bare feet through his small kitchen-slash-living room combo. It’s all very open plan, full of the Codlands flora and fauna that even plant-killer Jimmy can’t destroy. He makes it to his front door, absently scratching at his stomach before undoing the locks. He doesn’t pull the codhead on, even though it’s hanging on a hook right by his door. Whoever is at his door at such a late, or early, rather, time obviously doesn’t care about propriety. It must be Goby, or another minor advisor… Maybe something’s happened in the village closest to him. However, as the door pulls inward, Jimmy isn’t greeted by any of the usual suspects on his front porch.

Instead, standing there with one fist still raised to knock, is the King of Rivendell .

“...Scott?” The word spills from his mouth in breathless confusion. He blinks slowly, wondering absently if he’s still dreaming. 

The look in Scott’s eyes is wide, panicked. He looks the least put together Jimmy’s ever seen him. His normally-tamed curls are wild, like he’s been running his hands through them, and they cascade in tangles down past his shoulders. Not a single piece of jewellery adorns him except for a necklace of rope with a wooden, crude carving of Aeor strung on it. It looks like something a child would make, perhaps. He’s wearing expensive-looking silk pajamas in a light shade of blue, and his feet are bare, muddy and bleeding in spots. Most shocking of all, though, is the ruffled wings against his back, splayed open with the feathers bristled.

“You’re alive,” Scott says, chest heaving. Jimmy frowns. “I didn’t⎯ I couldn’t⎯ You were dead.” He chokes on the word, eyes turning glassy. It’s second nature to reach out and grab his wrist gently, pulling him inside the house. Scott follows Jimmy’s lead, stumbling as Jimmy walks him over to the kitchen. He pulls out a chair at his small, homey dining table and pushes Scott to sit. The elf perches on the edge, leaving enough room for those gorgeous wings.

“I’m alive,” Jimmy says when Scott won’t let go of him, hand clasped over his on Scott’s wrist like a vice. The elf looks up at him, but he’s far away. Jimmy’s heart just about breaks in his chest. “Scott. Scott, I’m alive. I’m alive. You’re okay. You have to let me go⎯”

“No, no, no, Jimmy, please,” Scott’s breathing starts to come in harsh, short bursts of air, his nails digging into Jimmy’s skin as he holds on tighter. Jimmy makes some faint soothing noise, free hand coming up to gently comb through tangled cerulean hair. “Please, oh, Jimmy.” The word is barely more than a gasp, tears spilling over his cheeks in tracks of shiny silver. The moon highlights everything through the window in Jimmy’s kitchen. It reminds him, faintly, of the night they’d truly met.

“I don’t know how to help you, Scott,” Jimmy says, so frustrated he could cry. “I’m sorry.”

“Jimmy,” Scott repeats, eyes falling shut as he leans into Jimmy’s touch. Carefully, Jimmy slips his hand down to cup Scott’s cheek. Instead of recoiling or snapping out of his daze, Scott sighs and seems to sink into his grasp. A look of relief comes over his face. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Jimmy brings Scott’s hand up to his chest with his free one, centering it right over where his heart beats. “I’m alive. I’m alive, Scott. You’re okay. You did it. I’m alive. Nothing has hurt me.” He doesn’t know what spurred this on, what kinds of nightmares Scott has, but he does know how to be grounding. He’s had to do it for himself plenty of times when he gets stuck in a flashback, and then learned to do it for Grian and Pearl, who were more affected by their immortal lifespan than they let on.

“You’re alive,” Scott echoes in a whisper, pressing his hand firmly against Jimmy’s chest.

“I’m alive,” Jimmy agrees, soft. “I’m here, Scott. Please, let me take care of you.”

“I’m scared that if I open my eyes this will be just another dream,” Scott admits, voice shaking. He’s so far removed from the posh, perfectly composed elf Jimmy knows that it hurts. He never wants to see Scott this low again. He leans down and presses his lips against Scott’s forehead in a lingering kiss.

“I’m not going anywhere, Scott. Just like you promised me, I’m gonna be here for you. Trust me, Scott. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Scott’s lips barely move as he utters the words. Jimmy smiles, soft.

“Good. Open your eyes, please, Scott.” It takes a few long, dragging minutes, but eventually pretty baby-blues blink up at him. They shine unnaturally with tears in the moonlight, but a relief so strong fills Jimmy’s chest that it threatens to bowl him over regardless. At least Scott is looking at him, more alert than he has been this entire time. Scott’s nails dig into his chest. “Feel that? I’m alive. That’s my heart, beating for you. I’m going to walk over to the sink and get a rag, okay? Your feet… Scott, did you walk here?”

“No,” Scott’s voice is raspy with unheard sobs. “Not…all the way. I don’t think. It’s⎯ It’s blurry. I just had to get to you.” Not unheard of in sleepwalkers, Jimmy thinks idly. He only knows that because Katherine sleep-walks, and she’d made sure he was informed the first time she stayed over in his Empire. But the trek from Rivendell to the Codlands is so long, even by flight…

It’s a miracle Scott isn’t hurt worse.

“You’re amazing,” Jimmy says without thinking, awed. Scott looks at him, askance.

“I’m a mess.”

“You’re strong,” He refutes, taking advantage of Scott’s awareness to slip out of the elf’s hold. He walks over to the sink and runs warm water over a rag, wringing it out so it won’t drip on his wooden floors too badly. “I never would’ve thought I’d have to bully the King of Rivendell into taking a compliment. You’re almost as well-known as Joel for your pride.”

“There’s nothing wrong with confidence,” Scott proclaims as Jimmy walks back over to him. His hands twitch as if with the urge to touch, and Scott folds them precisely in his lap. His breath hitches when Jimmy kneels at his feet. “What are you…”

“You hurt yourself,” Jimmy explains, settling back on his knees and taking Scott’s foot into his lap. The blood has mostly dried, from small scratches and cuts that Jimmy assumes came with rough terrain. It’s better to clean them out now, though. He doesn’t want to know what sort of infections could be swimming around in the muddy grounds of the Codlands. “And I know that you’re confident. That’s why I thought it’d be easier for you to hear that you’re amazing.”

“I showed up at your house before dawn in a right fit, Jimmy. Nothing about that is amazing. I should’ve been able to have control of myself.”

“You did,” Jimmy refutes quietly. He brushes the rag against the delicate arch of Scott’s foot, wiping away the mud and leaves that had collected on his soles. He can feel Scott’s incredulous stare even without looking up. He keeps his eyes on his work, though, cleaning the elf’s feet with a reverence that comes naturally. Only for Scott does Jimmy grow reverent.

“I didn’t,” Scott says, quiet but firm. “I flew here half asleep and then walked for Aeor knows how long because of a dream! I should’ve known better. This is ridiculous. Unbefitting of an Emperor to show such a lack of control.”

“You didn’t lash out once.” Jimmy folds the rag to a clean side as he begins to wipe at the small cuts littering the fragile skin of Scott’s foot. Against his gentle touch, they don’t reopen and bleed, but Jimmy makes a note to check again in the morning. For now, it seems best to let them air out. “You didn’t freeze anything. You didn’t hurt me, or anyone else, and you only accidentally hurt yourself. Just scratches, even, since I’m sure you weren’t occupied with shoes. You had a horrible, painful dream and you did the one thing that made sense⎯ You proved to yourself it wasn’t real. Honestly, Scott, I think that shows a hell of a lot of control.”

“You’re too kind,” Scott mutters, and his tone makes it unclear if it’s an insult or a compliment. Jimmy chooses to take it positively anyway. He glances up through his lashes and gives Scott a small smile.

“Flatterer,” He accuses, making Scott huff a laugh. He switches to Scott’s other foot, the rag more dirty than not by now. It’s still damp, though, and Jimmy worries that Scott won’t let him kneel again if he gets up now. “My bed’s big enough to share, if you want.” He mentions it offhandedly, but he knows that there’s no way he’s letting Scott out of his sight. The elf can fly back to Rivendell in the morning. Jimmy will sequester himself away on the couch, if necessary.

(He hopes it isn’t necessary.)

“You’d be okay with that?” Scott asks, sounding worried. Jimmy hums.

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

“...I cling. In my sleep, I mean. I run cold, so if there’s someone in bed with me, I cling. I’ve done it to Katherine and Pix a million times by now, but if that’s uncomfortable for you, I can sleep on the couch.” Scott’s face is twisted, all of his iceberg masks melted underneath the stress of the evening and Jimmy’s touch. Every expression that flits across his features leaves him vulnerable. Jimmy doesn’t know how to tell him that he’d like nothing better than if Scott clung to him forever.

“Well, I run hot, so you’re in good hands! We’ll balance each other out!” Jimmy says cheerfully, making to stand. Scott gives him a lingering once-over before a smirk spreads across his lips.

“Oh, I know you do,” He all but purrs, making Jimmy blink in confusion before he catches on to the innuendo. His face burns and he splutters.

“Not like that!”

“Your reactions are priceless,” Scott says with a sigh, grinning. Jimmy glares at him before turning around and putting the dirty rag back in the sink. He takes a second there to collect himself, trying determinedly not to think of either Scott calling him hot or the insidious voice of his sister in his ear, talking about courting. It’s only been a few days since that night at Lizzie’s, but the thoughts have been plaguing Jimmy nonstop. He’s going mad with curiosity and ridiculous, naive hope. “...Jimmy? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Huh?” Jimmy says, turning back around to look at Scott. The elf sits with his back perfectly straight despite the heavy wings that adorn him, hands still folded primly in his lap. His manners are impeccable, even for as sleepy and wild as he still looks. “Oh! Oh no, Scott, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m just tired.” A yawn catches him by surprise, helping to sell the excuse.

“Of course. I’m⎯”

“Scott, if you apologise for showing up on my doorstep because you needed help, we’re gonna have a serious problem.” Jimmy interrupts, frowning. Scott blinks, obviously surprised.

“O…kay then.”

“Great!” Jimmy would clap his hands together for emphasis, but he doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he walks the few short paces back to Scott and extends one of them to him. The elf pauses for a moment, expression inscrutable, before slipping his cool hand into Jimmy’s warm. His skin is made even warmer from the leftover heat of the water, which Scott gives a tiny little content sigh at. Jimmy tries very hard not to think about how adorable he is, lest the words spill unbidden from his mouth. Scott’s skin, by comparison, is like ice. He certainly hadn’t been dressed for flying through the weather of Rivendell’s mountains.

“I am sorry for waking you, though,” Scott murmurs as Jimmy leads him back into his bedroom. It’s a good thing Jimmy’s little house is accommodating for those with wings, because Scott’s are massive. The arches nearly brush the door frame as they walk through to Jimmy’s bedroom.

“Don’t be,” Jimmy replies with a shrug. “I’m not doing anything until way later today. Just sticking around the Codlands, taking it relatively easy. And I…want you to come to me when this stuff happens. I mean, I know it’s far, but I just want you to know that you can. I wanna help you however I can.” His cheeks warm. It’s not a confession, but it certainly feels like one.

“You’re a good guy, Jimmy,” Scott whispers, squeezing his hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course! So, um, how do you want to do this?” Jimmy changes the subject as they both look at his bed, red-faced. He’s never known how to respond to genuine gratitude. His bed isn’t small by any means, but with Scott’s wings, Jimmy expects that they have to be delicate about it. He glances at the other man, finding Scott with his free hand slightly outstretched, like he wants to touch but isn’t sure he’s allowed. Of course he does, Jimmy realises belatedly, he’s a bird. He wants to nest. “You can change anything you want, y’know. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asks, one eyebrow raised.

“I have a brother and a sister who are both bird hybrids. I get it.”

“The Ocean Queen⎯”

“Not Lizzie,” Jimmy interrupts, grinning. “Grian and Pearl.”

“Queen Pearl is your sister?” Scott looks shocked. Jimmy shrugs with a bashful expression. “Oh Aeor. I thought I had my work cut out with your ten-foot-tall Goddess of a sister. But you have another extremely powerful sister who’s in the Wither Rose Alliance. Of course you do. I suppose this Grian is going to string me up by my ankles as well?”

“If that could actually get him up from the desert, I’d let him.” Jimmy jokes. 

“Pix’s desert?” Scott wonders curiously. Jimmy shakes his head.

“Nah. Grian lives way far south with his King. That’s Scar Goodtimes, if you’ve heard of him? Their main export is TNT and glass. They’ve been there together since I became an adult, but Scar’s kingdom has been established for way longer. Before that, it was just me and Grian and Pearl in what was Pearl’s starting Empire. They basically raised me, I guess, and now I hardly see either of them since we’re all so busy.” Jimmy can’t help the way he sounds so melancholic about it. He really does miss the twins, even though he understands that they’re all adults now and can’t be joined at the hip.

“I understand,” Scott says gently. “I don’t see my brother as often as I would like, either.”

“You have a brother?” Jimmy repeats, surprised. Scott nods.

“Twin, actually. Xornoth.” For some reason, Scott’s face has closed off, giving away how uncomfortable he is. Jimmy doesn’t pry, then, no matter how much he wants to. Scott deserves his privacy. Besides, he knows all about complicated family dynamics.

“Well,” Jimmy says, offering a small smile. “I dunno ‘bout you, but I’m beat. Whaddya say we get to bed?”

“What is that accent?”

“Southern charm,” Jimmy teases with a wink. “Too hillbilly for you, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, be quiet, Jimmy.” The exasperation is fond, as is the fleeting smile Scott gives him. He scrunches his nose as he looks back at the bed and then lets go of Jimmy’s hand, stepping forward and beginning to rearrange his blankets and pillows. He makes a nest, as Jimmy expected, although it’s nothing like what he’d made before as a canary. Those memories are hazy, but it’s obvious to Jimmy that Scott’s nest is both more structurally sound and elaborate, even with minimal materials.

“There. Not perfect, but better.” Scott says once he’s done, cheeks pink from the mild exertion. Jimmy beams.

“It looks great! Where do you want me?” He knows that as a canary, it was hard for him to share a nest without adjusting every person in it to suit him personally. He can only imagine the instinct is ten times stronger for Scott, who is more of a control freak than Jimmy’s ever been. Scott appraises him with a critical eye before sighing. His wings lose some of their stiffness as he allows his perfect posture to bleed out of his body.

“Anywhere. Make yourself comfortable, Jimmy. It is your bed.”

“Yeah, but it’s your nest. I know it’ll bug you.”

“It won’t, actually.” Scott has an unreadable look on his face. “Please. I prioritise your comfort over this.”

“Well, if you insist,” Jimmy says, blushing. He climbs into bed, careful not to disturb the pillow-walls of the nest too badly. He makes himself comfortable in a spot adjacent to the middle, curling up on his side. The fitted sheet feels refreshingly cool against his bare chest and Jimmy sighs happily, spreading out his arms and legs. “‘S good, Scott. Thanks for makin’ th’nest.”

“Of course,” Scott says, an unidentifiable, warm tone to his voice. Jimmy hums sleepily. “Goodnight, Jimmy.” The words are accompanied by a brush of fingers through Jimmy’s hair. He leans into the touch, eyes slipping shut. Scott climbs in next to him and drapes his wings over the both of them like a weighted blanket. They’re not cold, like Jimmy expected, but cooler than his normal blankets. It’s kind of perfect, especially as Scott slides an arm around his waist and pulls Jimmy in close to tuck under his chin.

“G’night, Scott.” Jimmy mumbles, already half-way unconscious. Scott’s chest shakes with the vibrations of a small laugh and then there’s a kiss against his temple, fleeting and soft.

“Sleep well. Aeor bless you, Jimmy.”

⎯⎯⎯

Sunlight filters into the room, washing Jimmy in pleasant warmth.

He makes some faint noise and nuzzles closer to his pillow, heavy blankets shifting over his body. He hasn’t slept this good in years, he thinks faintly. He feels well-rested and safe. Slowly, Jimmy becomes aware of the fingers combing through his hair and the fact that the pillow he’s pressed up against is not a pillow at all, but rather the silk-covered chest of one King of Rivendell. The blankets draped over his body aren’t blankets, either, but instead Scott’s beautiful, cooling wings. They’re fantastic pseudo-blankets for Jimmy, who naturally runs so hot he can’t sleep with thick blankets, but still prefers the weight. His hands are fisted into the fabric of Scott’s shirt, silk soft against his scales. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, doesn't want to shatter this moment of unrealistic domestic bliss he’s lucked into. He’ll never get to be this close to Scott again.

The thought is too harsh for the gentleness of the morning. Jimmy feels like every second drags by in molasses. It’s warm and syrupy and sugary sweet and he doesn’t want to move for a single second. He takes a deep breath, hoping Scott doesn’t notice, and inhales the minty scent of his cologne. It reminds him of evergreen trees and fresh snow and something decidedly masculine and Scott. Jimmy won’t be able to view winter the same after this. Every part of it will be permeated with the man he loves.

“I know you’re awake, Jimmy,” says Scott, soft and amused. Jimmy makes some muffled grumbling noise, burying his face further into his chest. He’s trying to pretend to be asleep here. Incredibly rude that Scott would point it out like this. The elf in question allows the close touch, not trying to protest as he continues to card his fingers through Jimmy’s blond hair. “Are you hungry?”

“Shhh,” Jimmy mutters. “Five more minutes.” Of course, in the next second, his traitorous stomach growls and gives him away. Scott’s laugh sinks into Jimmy’s skin and he groans. He flops over onto his back, releasing Scott from his hold, and stares balefully at the ceiling.

“I can provide breakfast,” Scott murmurs, propping himself up on his hand and arm, which rests against the mattress. He’s laying half-across him, his leg tucked between Jimmy’s own and wing still casually slung over the lower half of Jimmy’s body. “Or, I can cook breakfast, if you provide the ingredients.” He amends with a laugh. In the daylight, Scott’s no longer as reserved with his touch, and his fingertips dance across Jimmy’s ribcage.

“You’re taking this remarkably well for someone who showed up crying at my doorstep,” Jimmy says suspiciously, glancing over at Scott. The elf merely smiles, raising one eyebrow.

“Would you rather me throw a hissy fit? I can throw a hissy fit, Jimmy, you just say the word,” Scott teases, tracing circles against Jimmy’s skin. It makes him shiver, gooseflesh erupting across his arms. This all seems so not platonic that it’s killing him, and Scott probably isn’t even aware. He knows the effect he has on Jimmy to some extent, of course, but he doesn’t know about Jimmy’s feelings.

“No,” Jimmy replies, feeling sleepy again. He can’t help it, when Scott’s so close and touching him so casually. It’s as maddening as it is comforting. “I would rather you just keep being your perfect self.” It’s surprising that Scott hasn’t closed himself off or tried to push Jimmy out after such an intense show of vulnerability the night before, but this is a good surprise. Jimmy likes to think that Scott has decided he can trust him, even with the heavy stuff.

“Of anyone, I think it’s you who is the perfect one. I realise this is all so terribly improper and backwards, you’ve been a saint about it the entire time.” Scott must be referring to the fact that they’re allies, but by now Jimmy thinks he’s more than earned the title of friend. Maybe their relationship is unconventional, and it’s moved a little fast, but Jimmy thinks it’s warranted. They have spent weeks getting to know each other and spending time together. It’s not entirely irrational to assume that they’re friends. He huffs, tilting his head towards Scott.

“I’m not being a saint, I’m just being a good friend. Gosh, do you really think I’d turn you away, even if we weren’t as close as we are?” Jimmy pouts, reaching out to flick the tip of Scott’s nose. The elf in question blinks at him, hand stilling against Jimmy’s chest. He seems surprised, and he always looks so adorable whenever he’s caught off-guard. It makes Jimmy want to surprise him all the time.

“Well, no, no of course not, but I haven’t even asked for your sister’s blessing yet! This is all very unprecedented.” Scott protests, light pink spreading across his cheeks and nose, highlighting the faintest freckles Jimmy has ever seen. “Although I suppose it’s a good thing I found out about Queen Pearl and Grian before I did so… I imagine she would take it as a slight if word got around that I’d asked the Ocean Queen’s blessing and not hers.”

“What?” Jimmy says, incredulous. Scott looks at him in confusion. “You don’t need their blessings to be my ally. I can make my own decisions, you know!”

“Jimmy, of course, I don’t mean to imply you can’t make your own decisions,” He says soothingly, patting against Jimmy’s chest. “But I still have to secure their blessings before we can move forward in the courtship. Now that we’ve slept together I doubt it matters whether or not we observe traditional lack of touching, but I’d never break the blessing rule! Besides, I’d like to make a good impression on your siblings. I want them to like me.”

“I’m dreaming, I think.” Jimmy says, dazed. Scott smiles in amusement.

“Good dream, I hope?”

“You… You’re serious? We’re courting?” Jimmy asks in disbelief, mind working overtime as he relives every moment over the past two months. All the gifts, the amount of time Scott spends with him, the way he insists on being so proper and traditional about everything. Hell, they’d gone on a picnic in a field of poppies just last week and Scott had hand-fed him food. If that doesn’t scream courting, Jimmy doesn’t know what does. Oh, gods. He really is oblivious.

“You didn’t know?” Scott interrupts his thoughts incredulously. Jimmy winces, panicked. Now Scott will think he doesn't care enough to notice these things, or that he isn’t smart enough to, and he’ll call it off! He grabs Scott’s hand abruptly in his panic, holding on tightly so the elf can’t run away or break off their relationship. Courtship. They’re courting. Jimmy is some twisted cocktail of giddiness and anxiety. “Jimmy. Breathe. I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m sorry!” Jimmy exclaims in a rush. Scott’s face falls.

“You do not want to be in a courtship, I assume?” The elf begins to withdraw his wings and touch, making Jimmy’s heart stutter in his chest with fear. He shakes his head rapidly, bringing Scott’s hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. That pretty pink blush fills Scott’s face and he clears his throat delicately. “Oh. I suppose this means you are in fact amenable?”

“You’re talking all fancy ‘cause you’re afraid, aren’t you?” Jimmy asks in realisation. Scott’s eyes narrow as he purses his lips, embarrassed at being caught out. Jimmy loves him so much it hurts. He wants to know all of Scott’s expressions by heart, not just the ones he’s been privileged enough to see in their short time together. He wants everything. “You actually want me. You don’t want to lose me. I⎯ Of course I want to be courting you, Scott! I would’ve done so many things if I’d known, ugh, I’m sorry for being so stupid⎯”

“Of course I actually want you, Jimmy. Don’t be ridiculous. There’s never been anyone else. And you aren’t stupid,” Scott retorts flatly. “I should’ve been clear with my intentions from the start. My joy that you reciprocated blinded me to the fact that I'd neglected to tell you outright. It was kind of silly of me, actually, but it definitely isn’t on you, Jimmy. You’re wonderful.”

“I, oh gods, I can’t handle this,” Jimmy mumbles, face feeling hot. Scott seems delighted.

“You blush down to your chest,” He says like an afterthought as he brushes fingertips against Jimmy’s pecs, presumably where the blush ends. Jimmy only feels warmer at the words and the touching. Scott’s going to kill him. That’s what this is. An elaborate and devious plan to assassinate him via spontaneous combustion in order to take over the Codlands.

“Stop,” Jimmy wheezes, making Scott freeze. He looks at Jimmy through thick lashes, those pretty blue eyes glittering.

“Too much?”

“You are not killing me,” Jimmy says nonsensically, lifting his hands to bury his face in them. Scott laughs, fingers still splayed out across Jimmy’s chest but not moving. They’re like a balm against his heated skin and he almost leans into the touch despite how overwhelmed he feels.

“I’m not trying to,” Scott agrees, a little late. “Do you want me to stop touching you?”

“No!” The word blurts from his lips before Jimmy’s conscious of the choice to reply. Scott hums, the sound vaguely amused. “It’s just…a lot.”

“We don’t have to touch. I can let go right now, I promise. I wouldn’t be mad,” Scott clarifies gently, voice barely above a murmur. “Nothing has to change, Jimmy. We can keep doing the same things we’ve always done, just now with you aware that our label isn’t exactly… friends.”

“It’s different! I want it to be different, I swear.” He insists, muffled. He doesn’t know how to explain that he wants it so badly it’s like a physical ache . Jimmy doesn’t spend a lot of time simply touching other people. He’s affectionate, of course he is, but no one he’s close to really returns those affections. Grian and Pearl are the ‘tough love’ kind of siblings, and they don’t indulge in hugs very often, while Lizzie’s so tall that it makes casual affection difficult. Not to mention how ridiculous Jimmy would feel if he came to his sister, begging for a hug because he can’t get by without it. As a result, exchanging casual, every day touch fell to the wayside for Jimmy.

“Jimmy, petal, look at me, please.” The pet name makes Jimmy’s breath hitch.

“I don’t wanna,” He whines, feeling miserably pathetic. Scott huffs a laugh; his breath blows across Jimmy’s skin with a whirlwind of sensation.

“I want to see your face, Jimmy,” Scott says, applying the faintest bit of pressure against Jimmy’s chest. “You’re not going to let what I’m about to say through your thick skull unless you’re looking at me, and we both know it.”

“Rude,” Jimmy mutters, but slowly, he puts his hands down. The urge to throw them up again is immediate as he registers Scott’s unbearably attentive and caring gaze on him. Jimmy wills himself to blush to no avail.

“There you are, petal,” Scott all but coos, withdrawing his own hand. The touch is gone; Jimmy feels a confusing spike of equal parts relief and terrible longing. Scott doesn’t seem upset, however, which assuages some of Jimmy’s worry that he’d be too much. He knows he can be a lot for anyone, let alone someone like Scott, to handle. “I don’t mind this, Jimmy. I don’t care if you’re touch-starved and you need time to adjust. That’s okay. You just have to tell me, petal, so I don’t make it worse.”

“What?” Jimmy says in confusion. “Touch-starved? Scott, what?”

“Oh, Jimmy.” Scott doesn’t seem pitying, but the hint of worry to his voice puts Jimmy on edge anyway. He doesn’t think he’d handle it well if Scott pitied him. “People need touch. When someone doesn’t get enough of it, it can cause a lack of tolerance to arise, leading the someone in question to feel easily overwhelmed by even simple touching. It can happen to anybody. It happened to me when my powers first came around, too, since I was so scared of hurting someone with the ice. Only time and exposure cured it, but that’s never hard to come by for you.”

“I didn’t… Um.” Jimmy sort of feels like he’s going to cry. He’d thought for the longest time that this was just another one of his signature fuck-ups, the fact that he couldn’t handle being touched for longer than a few minutes without freaking out. Lizzie and Joel never made him feel bad for it, but Jimmy knew that they must’ve thought he was such a loser. Incompetent at being an Emperor and at basic social interaction. “Oh. I really⎯ You’re so⎯”

“Can I touch you, Jimmy?” Scott asks earnestly as Jimmy begins crying, tears slipping down his face. He nods and Scott’s hands are on his face not two seconds later, thumbs gently swiping away any tears that escape his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. You didn’t know there was a word for it?”

“No,” Jimmy confirms, sniffling. Scott’s expression softens further.

“I want to kiss you, petal. Are you okay with that?” He pauses to consider it, because even though his gut reaction is to say yes for Scott, he wants to put genuine thought behind it. As much as Scott showers him with understanding and care, always taking the time to hear Jimmy out with his questions, that means that Jimmy can do the same for him. The elf waits patiently, still wiping away Jimmy’s tears.

“I’m all gross and..cry-ey.” It’s a weak excuse, but nonetheless one that Jimmy feels down to his core. He’s not worthy, he thinks. He’s never been worthy of Scott, and it’s so difficult to reconcile with the fact that Scott wants him. He wants Jimmy, who is barely an Emperor and only a passable cod hybrid in general.

“You’re not gross. It’s perfectly okay to cry.” Scott gives him a searching look. “Is that your way of politely refusing, petal?”

“No,” Jimmy refutes, voice shaking slightly. “Please..please kiss me.”

Scott cradles his face in his hands, giving Jimmy plenty of time to prepare as he comes closer. It’s hard to think straight when he’s being touched so lovingly, with so much care. His hands are cool against Jimmy’s warm, burning cheeks. He knows he must be an unattractive shade of ruddy red, but Scott wants to kiss him anyway. Perhaps Jimmy can let himself believe in that. This close, Scott’s wintery scent is even stronger. Jimmy’s eyes close as he breathes in, giving himself something to ground in that isn’t the way Scott’s hands feel on his face. After a few seconds, Scott’s hand slides down to his jaw and his thumb brushes against Jimmy’s bottom lip. He parts them instinctively, hearing it as Scott takes a sharp breath, surprised. With his eyes closed, it’s all less overwhelming, allowing Jimmy to just concentrate on what his body feels and wants.

“You’re gorgeous,” Scott murmurs. Jimmy’s heartbeat thunders in his ears, but not loud enough to drown out Scott’s steady breathing. “Thank you for trusting me with this, petal. You’re doing so good. I’m going to kiss you now.” The warning helps, but so does the way Jimmy can feel every movement Scott makes. There’s a puff of air against his lips before a gentle pressure, and then Scott’s kissing him.

Jimmy makes some embarrassing whimper-like noise, reaching to fist his hands in Scott’s silk shirt. Scott’s lips are soft, so soft that it reminds Jimmy of literal flower petals, and he’s careful as he pulls Jimmy closer into his embrace. Every movement is intentional and direct, pleasantly fuzzing Jimmy’s thoughts over. He almost feels like crying again, feeling so much in such a good way. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt before, loved and cared for and safe even though every nerve ending is alight in his body. They trade a few more chaste, soft kisses there in his bed with warm sunlight spilling over them.

When Scott pulls away, Jimmy finally opens his eyes, a confession on the tip of his tongue.

“I love you,” He says with kiss-swollen lips. Scott’s eyes go wide. “I⎯ I’m sorry, I just couldn’t not say it, I love you. You’re so… you’re amazing. I love you.” Jimmy’s voice is wobbly with vulnerability. It should be impossible for him to feel so nervous on a picture-perfect morning, and yet here he is, worrying away over Scott’s reaction.

“Oh, petal, Jimmy, you’re perfection. Of course I love you. Of course I do,” Scott leans in and presses a kiss to Jimmy’s cheek, quick and impulsive. “You’re so good, Jimmy.”

They bask in the sunlight for a while longer, simply lounging in Jimmy’s bed in comfortable silence. Eventually, they’ll have to get up and face the world, return to their Empires and resume acting as the Emperors they’re supposed to be. Eventually, they will have to resume their courtship and retrieve blessings and live their lives separate from one another. They’ll be together, of course, but not like this. Not like on the morning they both told each other they loved them. Eventually, they have to return to reality. But for now, they can stay intertwined, enjoying the silent knowledge that they love and are loved in turn.

⎯end.