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For all intents and purposes, it is a happy ending. Scott goes to court, and tends to his duties, and watches over his kingdom, and it’s just like it was before the world ended. All that’s different is that Jimmy and him are engaged, and he’s still Prince Scott, heir apparent, instead of King Scott Smajor of Rivendell. And, well.
Well.
It’s not that he minds that Xornoth is in his happily ever after. He’s glad, at the bare minimum, that Xornoth gets a happily ever after, too. He never got corrupted, and his parents never disowned him. It’s good. Their lives are good. He comes into court and his father bids him good day. His mother asks how things are going with Jimmy and she looks him directly in the eyes when he talks about his fiance. She knows Jimmy’s favorite color, and how he prefers his venison seasoned. His father brought him a cyan silk cape from his recent travels to House Blossom. It’s a really good cape. The color matches Scott’s hair perfectly, and it really brings out his eyes. And Xornoth had complimented it when he saw Scott unpack it.
It’s sitting in the back of Scott’s closet now, untouched. Jimmy hadn’t mentioned it when he saw it.
And so things are good. If his life were a story, this would be his happily ever after.
“What’s the matter?” Jimmy asked, jolting Scott out of his line of thought.
“Nothing.” Scott waved away the question, and gave him a small smile. He focused back in on what he had been looking at. For training purposes, his father had agreed to let him help look over some trade agreements. He had always found the paperwork long and tedious, but then again, he’d never had someone teach him how to do it properly, and often it would be him and an advisor in long meetings where he’d have to endure their condescending tone. Either way, it was just as mind numbing as he remembered, but it was some normalcy he could hold onto. Blah blah, henceforth in agreement with the clause of who cares, blah blah, signed Count FailWhip of Grimlands.
His father had explained there were some small sections to be gone over in person, and they would have to send a representative to the Grimlands. Xornoth had volunteered, but Scott was itching to get out, and his father could sense it. That was part of the reason he needed to get out. His father could sense it.
For all intents and purposes…
“Come on, you can’t lie to me, silly,” Jimmy said, leaning on the back of Scott’s chair. He smelled distinctly like a lack of brine.
“Jimmy,” Scott frowned, “When was the last time you were at the Cod Empire?”
Jimmy blinked. “A few days ago.”
“Oh,” Scott said, suddenly remembering how cold it had been in his bed without his fiance. The brine smell hit his nose. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, and Jimmy came around to lean on the table. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to going on that trip?”
“Yes,” Scott said, perhaps a bit too quickly.
“Maybe I should come with, just to make sure you’re OK.”
Alarm bells in the back of Scott’s mind started ringing. “You know we’re meeting with Fwhip, right?”
“Yes?”
“And you’re OK with that.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Right,” Scott said, looking anywhere but at his fiance. “Right.”
The Grimlands capital was not very far from the Rivendell capital as the crow flies, but with a caravan of self-important noble elves, it took several days straight of travel to get there. The roads were woefully inadequate, even in Scott’s happy ending.
He supposed that made sense. If Xornoth never became corrupted, and Scott never became King, and Fwhip never made that crown, and then wore that crown, and then made the Road Builder’s Guild… well, it was inconvenient either way.
Several days straight of travel with guards watching his every move, and Jimmy being way too excited to be traveling over land. There was a perfectly good river that spanned Rivendell, cut through Crystal Cliffs, and connected to the Grimlands capital, but Jimmy had insisted on coming with the caravan. Scott didn’t bother challenging him.
Finally, they made it to their accommodations in the Grimlands, and Scott all but collapsed on the bed, armor and regalia still on. Jimmy hung his Codfather head on the bedpost, and sat on the edge of the bed, undressing. “I’m gonna take a bath,” he said.
“OK, sweet.”
“If you’d like to join me…” Jimmy said, turning at an awkward angle to meet Scott’s eyes.
Ah. So he was trying to be suggestive. Scott was too tired to care. He grunted and sat up, unhooking his cape. “I think I’m gonna take a nap. Go make sure you don’t dry out.”
Jimmy looked slightly disappointed but didn’t push it further, going to take care of his fish-person business. Scott stared at the Codfather head, and its glassy eyes stared back. “Jim?” he called.
“Yeah?” he responded over the running water.
“Your head’s in here.”
“Don’t worry about it!” Jimmy called back. A chill ran down Scott’s spine.
The meeting was boring, but Scott had expected that. Fwhip and Jimmy were chummy, though, and that was unnerving. Scott was getting tired of things being unnerving. He kind of wished he were back at home in Rivendell, tending to the stables. Dealing with the deer manure would be way easier than whatever this was.
Dinner would be more of the same, but in the meantime, he was glad to walk through the courtyard. Normally, he wouldn’t be thrilled to be subjected to Grimlands approximation of horticulture, but it was refreshingly familiar, which was nice. And more importantly, he was alone.
Taking stock; Jimmy and Fwhip- the Cod Empire and Grimlands- never went to war here. That was a surprise. That had nothing to do with Xornoth or the Corruption. Scott couldn’t even start to draw a line there. There was absolutely no reason for that to be the case. Aeor and Exor had nothing to do with the Salmon and Cod deities. So that was… strange. Perhaps there were more things that didn’t happen in this reality that weren’t related to Scott’s… whole thing. It would make sense. He had been operating on the assumption that he wished this reality into existence, but it could just be a wholly different one that he was just plopped in the middle of. Which was equally… well.
Still. Happy ending, right? War wasn’t very happy. He shouldn’t be looking a gift horse in the mouth. So for all intents and purposes-
“Scott?” a familiar sounding voice called.
Scott blinked and turned around to see a ginger woman standing there, dressed in black and red. He blinked again. “Gem?”
“I didn’t know Rivendell was visiting the Grimlands,” she said cooly.
“Trade negotiations,” Scott explained. “Why are you here?”
“I was out for a walk. Didn’t expect to run into anyone else.”
“No, like, here.” He gestured broadly. “Grimlands.”
“I live here, Smajor.”
“You…” Scott had a lot of information to process. Scott should not ask Gem a million questions to her face. Scott should not look all these gift horses in the mouth. Scott should be quiet, and take this information, like everything else, in for investigation later. Privately. Private investigation. Very private. Preferably somewhere he can scream into a pillow, uninterrupted. “You. Live. Yes. Here.”
Gem frowned. “Sorry if this is forward, are you-”
“I’m fine.” Scott adjusted his standing posture to stand a bit taller, trying to match Gem’s height.
Gem hesitated. “Right. Yes, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” She squinted, looking Scott up and down not unsubtly, but in a way Scott recognized from endless hours spent with her when trying to figure out how to trap Xornoth. Something that, of course, never happened in this world.
“No, no. It’s alright. I’m sorry,” Scott said softly and politely, and Gem’s stare softened in return. “I was being rude. Will I see you at dinner tonight?”
“I suppose, yes.” She sighed, adjusting the red collar of her gown. “See you then.”
“Yes. Good day.” Scott gave a little bow and walked past her, making a mental note to see if any of his advisors had any purple wool cloth he could gift her.
Back in Rivendell, after the arduous return journey he was subjected to (in which Jimmy insisted on playing I Spy for almost a full day of travel), Scott sat in the stables, definitely not hiding from having to see his family. He simply… had deer to care for. Of course. He was honoring Aeor. Not that he had been to the Church of Aeor since waking up in this world, but he was busy. And Aeor didn’t seem all that bothered, what with the way the deer were gently eating hay from his hands and he hadn’t lost any fingers. There hadn’t been any freak blizzard or ice storms either, and the wool and berry harvest seasons were well underway with no incident. There was no reason for him to visit the Church anyway. There was no indication that he even was the Champion of Aeor in this reality, and he couldn’t feel the buzzing of ice magic under his fingernails.
That had definitely been unnerving when he arrived here. He tried the first night to create some snowflakes, something small and delicate that required a lot of concentration and quiet. Nothing. He had flown out the next day to an empty ice field on a peak next to the palace and tried to do something a bit easier -- not even an ice explosion was within his grasp. And plus, there was the obvious lack of antlers. That was something he hadn’t noticed until he had almost tripped over his own feet. His balance was off, and he reached up to feel his forehead, and confirmed what he had suspected -- no antlers. It shouldn’t have come as a shock; he only had grown the antlers because of his connection to Aeor as Champion. A title that only existed because of Xornoth’s corruption. But Xornoth wasn’t Corrupted in this world. They, for all intents and purposes, were not the twin reincarnations of Alinar and Cohnal.
He initially couldn’t bring himself to ask Xornoth if he even knew what the corruption was.
Something about this happiness had initially felt so fragile. He felt like he was in a dream, and at any moment he’d wake up screaming, deeply alone in his palace. Every day he had tiptoed around, fearing he’d break something, and Xornoth would laugh and this facade would melt away, revealing it as a demon’s trick.
Now it was more of a sunk cost sort of thing. He had broken down a few months in and asked Xornoth what he knew of Alinar and Cohnal, of Aeor and Exor’s battle, and Xornoth, levelly and with some confusion, had recited the tale Scott knew intimately. The world hadn’t ended or fallen apart. Xornoth didn’t rip off his face to reveal a demon. Exor didn’t erupt from the ground to eat him. No tendrils or blood sheep appeared. The world was stable. The ground was solid under his feet and the air cold under his flight feathers. There was no reason to challenge it any further. A happy ending is just that -- a happy ending.
If Scott could just damn buy it, was the thing.
The young deer he was brushing snorted and nudged him. Scott scratched it absent-mindedly on the antler, and it bleated contentedly.
Maybe Aeor did have some answers. If he wasn’t the Champion, it was unlikely Aeor would speak to him directly, but the familiarity of the Church could offer some comfort. He had spent plenty of time there over the past few years, more so than the room that was currently his. It could be beneficial.
The Church of Aeor was just as he remembered it -- untouched like a memory. Wooden pews, woven teal, gold and white runner carpet spread in the middle, plush under his heels. Walls of chiseled white marble and calcite, pew adorned with gold. Lush plants in cast iron basins and intricate woodworking in the rafters and supports. He nodded to the priest as he walked in, heading straight to the front pews without a word. Picking up a familiar leather-bound book of prayer and kissing the spine, he opened it to a random page and began to read.
Hello, child, a voice rang through his head. The familiar echo of Aeor rattling in his skull, and a familiar cold shiver.
Lord Aeor , he responded, confusion and relief flooding him all at once like winter air in his lungs.
You have been missing for a long while from these halls, the Stag yawned, as though waking up from a nap. It is good to feel your presence here.
Apologies, my Lord. It is good to feel your presence as well.
The Great Stag chuckled in his ears, laugh ringing like a cool breeze on a summer day. What brings you here, child?
Scott took a deep breath. What was he here for? I’ve been confused, Lord Aeor. I was simply seeking some clarity of mind.
Ah, a noble pursuit. Scott could feel the presence of Aeor on his shoulder, leaning his head like any deer would, and he couldn’t help but smile. If there’s anything I can offer in the way of guidance, please, ask away, my Champion.
Scott’s smile twitched. OK. That’s… that answered. But if he’s Aeor’s Champion, why does he not have access to his power? Why is Xornoth uncorrupted?
Perhaps Xornoth was Corrupted, past tense? Before Scott awoke in this world. Perhaps he was Corrupted, and this world’s Scott dealt with it more swiftly or efficiently? Perhaps it happened much later in the timeline, or this world’s Scott figured out a way to get rid of the rot at its source. A multitude of answers flickered through his mind, none of them quite comforting at all, and none of them fleshed out enough to follow down their garden path.
Nothing I can think of in the moment, Lord Aeor, Scott responded with a practiced ease. Familiar games, familiar lies. If I think of something, I’ll return to the offer. Thank you kindly.
Aeor grunted, pleased, and Scott remained in the Church for an acceptable amount of time to keep appearances before leaving swiftly.
The first line of investigation seems like it should be talking to someone who knows the world better than Scott, who just woke up here one day. Or maybe his parents or a servant or an advisor or Aeor or even Jimmy or Gem.
Or Xornoth.
Instead, Scott found himself in his bedroom, sorting shirts. It’s relaxing. There are a lot of ways someone could organize shirts; by season or perhaps color. Maybe even organizing shirts and pants and skirts and dresses into coordinated outfits. Jimmy sat on the bed, folding laundry for Scott. They stood in silence.
Scott knew this was a waste of the day. But he had chosen to do it now, and it had nothing to do with not wanting to talk about the corruption, or Exor and Aeor, and everything to do with needing fresh outfits. Perhaps he could go down to the market and commission a new outfit as well. The sun was still high in the sky, and the spring weather was brisk but bearable this morning.
“How do you feel about matching outfits?” he asked Jimmy. “Something loose and cool You don’t own very much Elvish clothing, and spring brings debutante balls. You will be required to dress up to code.”
“That would be fun,” Jimmy hummed, tossing a pair of folded pants gently across the bed.
“Fun?” Scott was unsure how Jimmy could find standing still while tailors and seamstresses pinned and poked and measured you for hours fun, but to each his own, he supposed.
“Well, not fun the tailoring part. The matching,” he clarified.
“Ah.” Scott nodded.
“But wouldn’t you be expected to match with your family? At least Xornoth.” Jimmy sat on the clear section of the bed, facing Scott. “Twin things, right?”
Scott frowned. He was unsure whether Xornoth and him had ever matched in adulthood, but to be fair, he didn’t know Xornoth all that much in adulthood before now. “Well, we’re engaged, right? It wouldn’t be odd for us to match.”
“True,” Jimmy said. “Maybe we should ask Xornoth to come, just in case. So we don’t step on any toes.”
Scott turned around to face the closet, not wanting Jimmy to see his disgruntled expression. Jimmy was right, is the thing. If he committed a faux pas, his parents would be upset, and he’d never hear the end of it from Xornoth. He should just go along with it. “Alright,” he said coolly, trying to give off the impression of neutrality. “Could you ask him while I finish putting this all up?”
“Of course!” Jimmy said, springing to his feet. He came over and put a hand on Scott’s shoulder, and Scott turned in to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll let the coachwoman know as well if he says yes.”
“Great,” Scott said with a practiced and polite royal smile.
“Pink or purple,” Xornoth said, holding up two different textiles to his chest. One was a magenta color that matched his hair well, and the other was a dark almost black purple with golden lilies embroidered on it.
“I like the purple,” Jimmy offered. The purple was a deep dark shade, and Scott was sure Jimmy was answering that way for the lilly pattern. The color reminded Scott of Xornoth’s horns.
“It’s more magenta, but I like that one better. It brings out your eyes.” He nodded at the purple. “You should get floral accents if that’s what draws you to it.”
“Good point,” Jimmy said, nodding sagely. “Oh! I could bring some fresh Victoria from the swamp for a floral touch! They’re huge blossoms.”
Xornoth seemed to consider this, and the two launched into an involved conversation about flora. It’s not that Scott wasn’t glad the two got on so well, it was just that he couldn’t remember if Xornoth liked plants so much pre-corruption. He supposed it made sense, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.
“What do you think?” Xornoth said, drawing Scott back.
“I missed, like, all of that,” he confessed sheepishly.
“We were saying Jimmy could make some flower crowns,” Xornoth explained, more patient than annoyed.
“Oh. That would be nice.”
Jimmy smiles and bounced up onto his feet, hands hovering over Scott’s, not quite touching. “Yes! Oh, that’s so exciting. I’ve been experimenting with preserving flowers in amber, too, I think it could make some lovely jewelry.”
Scott reached up to complete Jimmy’s touch. He was glad Jimmy was so respectful of his space, but normally he was so touchy. He couldn’t smell the brine on him either. “That’s lovely. I’m sure it will be gorgeous.”
The rest of the shopping trip was similarly uneventful. The measurements section was by far the worst part. Standing perfectly still in a room with Jimmy and Xornoth, trying not to make too many comments both because he was lost and thought and to not anger the tailor was easy enough, if boring. The two had moved on to talk of lichen, which, while not of no interest to Scott, was way out of his field of knowledge, so it was fine if he was a little quiet.
When they got back to the palace stables, Xornoth pulled Scott aside, much to Scott’s visible dismay.
“OK. I told Jimmy to go take a look at the pond downstream. He won’t be back for a little while.” Scott bristled as Xornoth continued talking. “What is up with you lately? Is everything OK?”
“I’m fine,” Scott hissed, a bit more outwardly uncomfortable than he would’ve liked to display.
“Is it me? Because don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Xornoth,” Scott blurted, “What do you know about Exor’s Corruption?”
Xornoth’s face screwed up with confusion. “What?”
No backing down now. “I said, what do you know about-”
“I know what you said, Scott.” Xornoth took a step back. “You’ve asked me this before. Are you accusing me of something? Because I’d say out of everyone, you’re the one who’s been acting off.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?” Xornoth threw his hands up. “I’m your brother, for Aeor’s sake, and I can’t even talk to you. You’ve been distant from me, from Jimmy, from our parents. You’ve been acting restless and cagey, what’s the deal?” He took another step back. “And now you’re asking me about Exor ?”
“Can you just…” Scott wasn’t sure what to say. How to explain. “I’ve been having… bad dreams. Nightmares.” It wasn’t totally a lie. It had sort of been a nightmare, it had just also been real. And he had dreamed about it since being here. “About the corruption. About us.” Xornoth didn’t say anything, and Scott continued. “I just… need you to trust me. I need you to hear me out.
“I’ve been having this dream, I guess, that you got Corrupted. You were this, in this dream I mean, this demon. Hellbent on destroying the world. Champion of Exor, like Cohnal. And in this dream, I’m Champion of Aeor. And I have to, how do I put this…” Scott looked down at the stable floor. “Kill us.”
“Kill us,” Xornoth repeated, tone flat.
“I just need some reassurance.” He wasn’t entirely sure that was true. It definitely wasn’t a lie -- reassurance in this situation would definitely make him feel better. But it felt like there were glaring holes in reality that he was trying to mend with words.
“I’m not sure what to say. You’ve been having these dreams a lot I assume?”
“Yeah,” Scott half-lied again.
Xornoth sighed. “Well, I’m not working with Exor.” The answer was weak, and Scott bristled again. “I’m not,” he reiterated. “I’ve never spoken to him. And frankly, I’m upset that you’d let these dreams get to you.”
Scott furrowed his brow. OK. So if this were some dream reality predicated on his wants and needs, his brother probably wouldn’t have said that. Or felt that, he guessed. “They’re really realistic,” he explained.
“Have you spoken to anyone about them?”
“No. Not even Jimmy.”
“Maybe you should.”
As if on cue, Jimmy opened the door to the stable. “Coming back?” he said cheerily.
“Yeah, we’re coming,” Scott answered, glad to be saved from this conversation.
Scott would admit that he may have been a bit stand-offish for the rest of the night. Jimmy had made multiple attempts to try and comfort what he was correctly perceiving as Scott’s upset, but Scott made no effort to listen, brushing him off every time.
Scott came back from the bathroom, and Jimmy was sitting on the bed, back facing him.
“Xornoth told me you’ve been having bad dreams,” he said calmly, not facing Scott.
His stomach churned. “Did he?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
Jimmy turned to face his fiance, who was wringing the hem of his nightshirt. “You could’ve told me. I could’ve helped. Why are you bottling it up?”
“Did Xornoth tell you this or did you overhear it in the stable?” Scott snapped.
Jimmy’s mouth opened and closed, aptly, like a fish. “That’s not the point,” he said, stiffly.
“Then what is the point?” Scott said, throwing his arms in the air. “Everyone is treating me like a ticking time bomb!”
“That’s not fair,” Jimmy protested. “That’s not fair, Scott.”
“It’s how I feel! I’m just going about my day! You all hover. You all ask if I’m fine, but you don’t really wanna deal with it. You don’t want to deal with any of it!”
“You won’t tell us anything!” Jimmy interrupted. “Just because you don’t trust me-”
“Not everything’s about you!”
“Don’t say that. I’m not making it about me,” Jimmy said, hurt in his voice.
“You are.” Scott rolled his eyes. “You literally are, right now, making it about you. Saying you’re hurt I’m having bad dreams.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it!”
“Then what do you mean? What could you possibly mean by that?” Scott said sarcastically.
“We’re all worried about you!” Jimmy shouted.
“You could try not!” Scott shouted back. “I’m dealing with it!”
“You don’t have to do it alone!”
“Maybe I want to!” Scott crossed his arms. “Maybe I don’t want any of this! It’s so saccharine! It makes me sick! I can take care of myself, all by myself, perfectly fine, thanks!”
Oh. That was too far. Jimmy looked like he was about to cry.
“Jim, I-”
“Go walk it off, Scott,” he said, and turned back to the wall.
Scott walked stiffly into the Church, bracing himself to be confronted by the priest and have to smile. Oddly enough, there was no one there. He picked up a book of prayer, kissed the spine, and opened it to a random page, sitting on the front pew.
He read in silence for a while, fighting tears that continually welled up in his eyes. The silence of the church was stifling. The sound of evening wind howling around the Church outside promised for a storm that night, but in here, he was untouched by the elements. Tears threatened to spill over.
This did not feel like a happy ending.
“I don’t know what to do!” Scott yelled aloud, beginning to cry.
He couldn’t tell you how long he sat there, taking heaving breaths, hiccuping over his own tears before Aeor’s voice appeared. Speak, child. What ails you?
“I don’t know what to do. Aeor, I’m lost,” he sobbed.
There is no need to cry. Scott could feel Aeor’s tongue licking the tears off his cheek. Tell me.
“I keep remembering. It’s awful. I did what I had to, and now I feel like I’m being punished.”
Are you not happy? Aeor said, genuine curiosity in his voice.
“No, no. It’s not that. I am. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” Scott laughed.
So what is the problem?
What was the problem? What was he struggling for? Why should he follow the white rabbit down the rabbit hole when he has everything he needs right here?
There’s no point in struggling, Champion. Aeor responded, stern like a parent. Lie your head down.
Scott sat in the garden with Jimmy, holding his hand. The sun was setting in vibrant orange, red and pink hues, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. A beautiful evening. The summer was just starting to roll in, which meant the mountains were green and lush, and the air was tolerable without a coat, even for his fiance. The air smelled like flowers and jam, and the cool breeze cutting through the pines made Jimmy’s fins sway a bit. Scott smiled.
If it was a dream, it wasn’t a bad one. And if it wasn’t, then what’s the use in worrying? For all intents and purposes, this was a happy ending. Scott intended to keep it that way.