Chapter Text
Scott didn't remember going back to sleep, he didn't even remember getting back to his bed. He was pretty sure that the rock wasn't supposed to be in his bed with him, sitting innocently on the pillow next to his head.
The rock sat there pulsing in a calm, heartbeat esc, rhythm.
“Good morning,” it seemed to say. The stone gave off a soft thrum, its surface clear as a stagnant pond. If he looked closely enough, Scott could see the back of the golden prong setting sparkling behind the gem. The king smiled, Xornoth must be in a good mood today.
Sitting up, Scott glared at the condition of his room. After the mess that was last night, the king didn't even have the energy to fix his bed back to its normally pristine condition. Instead he threw one of the large comforters on the bed and curled up as best he could before falling asleep.
Loose sheets and pillows lay scattered across the room, silk throw pillows sitting against the wall in one of the corners, and one of his larger pillows sat against his work bench. The sheets ended up closer to the bed, but no less precarious as the majority of the expensive fabric ended up laying on the ground rather than on the actual bed. It was to the point where the bed was more barren than the room, with Scott sitting curled up on a bare mattress.
Shuffling out of the single comforter that remained, Scott sat up and snatched up Xornoth’s rock. He threw his legs off the side of the bed, an unpleasant chill running up his legs as his feet hit the stone floor. With one last longing glance in the direction of his still warm bed, Scott stood up and made his way to his desk.
Gently placing the crystal back in its place on the desk, Scott looked back over at the carless picture that his room had been degraded to last night.
Making his way back to the bed and making it up. Starting with snatching the sheets off the ground, throwing them over the bed before tightly shuffling the edges under the mattress. Scott then shuffled over to the corners of the room, picking up the pillows and holding them precariously to his chest.
Scott grunted as he stumbled around the room, the pillows tumbling out of his arms at one point, winning the king a light thrum from brother dear.
Great, Xornoth was laughing at him.
He arranged the pillows neatly against the bedpost, carrying on until the bed was finally tidy again.
By the end of this endeavor, Scott was staring at a made up bed, and an only mildly disheveled bedroom.
His maids never liked it, but Scott appreciated the light clutter across his room. Books from the library that sat stacked in the corners along with chairs that did not match the upholstery, small notes that had fallen off his desk laid forgotten around his work area, and soft unfinished flower crowns surrounded those letters in a depressing display of Scotts current relationship with the codfather.
The sound of knocking on wood made itself known. Scott chuckled softly and looked over his shoulder at Xornoth’s rock.
The balcony window cast the morning sunlight on the desk, the crystal was still foggy, but it still managed to reflect the sun in a soft glittering light. The dark oak wood contrasted beautifully with the blood red of Xornoth’s crystal. Scott couldn't help but admire the picturesque scene.
“Impatient as ever. Did our parents ever chew you out for that?” If the heightened vibrations were any indication, no they didn't and if they did it was probably “none of your damn business”. Scott shook his head as he finished fluffing his last pillow before making his way to the wardrobe.
After a quick check in with the maid, and multiple adjustments of his cape and undershirt, Scott made his way out of the room, Xornoth’s crystal sitting comfortably in his hand.
Before long, they were once again outside. This time, the streets were crowded with elves and carts of travelers and their wares. Scott didn't pay them any mind, with a red crystal in his hand and a fiery determination in his eyes, Scott made his way to the chapel.
Oddly enough, despite it being a place of worship, Scott couldn't recall anyone walking in here aside from himself, what was once a cause for concern was now a godsend, as Scott made his way to the altar.
Where there was once a chest, there was now a basin of water, sitting on the edge of the bowl was a heavy gold chain with an empty charm hanging on it. Maybe it was the matching color pallet, or the depressed feeling Scott had when he saw it, but something about these items seemed far more permanent than the offering box that had been there yesterday, these tools seemed far more set in stone, like they were made specifically for this church, and would serve
“Well, looks like this process is going to take a while.” Scott looked down at the foggy gem, Xornoth had gone quiet since he’d entered the chapel, the thought made the young elf purse his lips. “We’ll figure it out, Xornoth.” Picking up the chain, Scott popped the crystal into the necklace.
A high pitched whistle rang through the room as the necklace fell from his hands with a sharp clattering sound. Scott stumbled away from the altar as the gem slowly stopped shaking in its confines. A soft red glow emanated from the crystal as Scott picked it up once more.
The whistle slowly died down, Scott let out a sigh before making his way back to where his brother lay.
“I guess the demon didn't like that.” Picking up the crystal, Scott could see the parts of the rock that were being touched by the gold were much clearer than the inner part of the crystal, almost as clear as glass. “It definitely won't like this then.”
With the crystal still warm in his hand, Scott stepped up the podium once more and stared down at the basin. The rock was vibrating in his hand, but not in the same way it normally did. It wasn't the proud vibrations of a brother who was just trying to get Scott’s attention, the rock would go from trying to go from one side of his hand to the other, or try to, it was like it was fighting itself.
The scene from inside the chapel was almost cathartic. A man with long cyan hair standing in front of an altar with a stony look etched across his face. One fist twitching at his side as the other was balled up with determination. He looked less lifelike in this chappel, rather he looked like a painted statue, one that was built into this church's foundation.
When he took a step forward, his resolve made itself known. The chance of him coming out of this unscathed was next to none, as were the dangers of working with the gods. Of this, Scott knew all too well.
Despite this the king walked forward, his form less elf, less lifeless, and more akin to that of a deity. His hair shifted behind him like a breath of wind, his movement more graceful than the movement of a creek.
Scott stood in front of the altar, his resolve cemented in his reflection of the marble floors and stained glass windows. He was getting his brother back, he would have a family again, to hell with the consequences.
Deep inside the crystal, Xornoth was trying his best to fight off the demon at the back of his mind. It must know what was going to happen, because Xornoth had not felt this much activity from the demon since the night they’d burned down Rivendell.
When Scott approached the basin, he glared down at his hand before shifting the gem in his hand. His hand landing on the cooler chain as a burning sensation in the palm of his hand made itself known, he sighed at the thought of the red spot that would undoubtedly be covering the better part of his hand for a while now. Maybe he could come up with some excuse for having a burned hand? Surely Jimmy would ask.
“I was just making soup…” Scott whispered to himself, horrible excuse but it would have to work, bringing up the chain to eye level and staring at it intently.
“Careful brother, don't get burned.” Scott didn't know why he said it, but he felt the need to heed his own warning. The water in the basin continued to shift, almost as if it were tenseing for impact.
If the chain caused so much trouble for him, what would the holy water do?
Scott took a breath in through his nose, exhaling through the mouth before turning his intense gaze down to the water.
He brought the chain down, closer to the water. There was a whistle, like a boiling kettle, before the chain was ripped from Scotts hand and the crystal was shot through the air.
Scotts eyes stayed trained on the crystal, he stumbled back.
The elf tripped over his feet to keep up with the gem.
It soared through the air, reaching the parapets of the chappel, only beginning to fall back down closer to the door to the chapel.
Stumbling back, the king reached a hand high in the air.
He felt it hit his hand-
For a second, there was nothing, everything went fuzzy. The pain was immeasurable. It was far from falling off a tree and breaking your arm, far from any slap on the wrists from one of his tutors. It was less like he’d thrown his hand into fire, more like he had thrust his entire fist into a pit of lava while watching Jimmy as he was gutted across the room. The burning reached up his arm and deep into his chest.
Gritting his teeth, something warm trailing down his chin, Scott stumbled back up the altar. By some miracle he managed to get back to his feet. Through blurry eyes and a shattered heart, Scott lurched back to the front of the chapel, before standing back at the basin.
He didn't look at the damage, the rock was still burning in his hand. All he could do was close his fist tighter and take a deep shuddering breath.
With blood dripping down his pale knuckles, and a stiffened resolve, Scott shoved his hand into the water.
Blinding pain surrounded him, not a fire, but a supernova that rang through his soul and burned into his veins, stardust burned through his bones as his eyes stung with tears, the only reprieve he had was when the feeling in his hand disappeared and everything slowly went dark.
Dropping his hand from the basin, Scott closed his eyes tight as he leaned against the altar. The world went dark disappearing for the young elf before he had a chance to pull it back.
Unknown to Scott, when the world was all but gone, the golden light returned. The charred remains of his hand coming back together in a whirlpool of magic.
Xornoth revealed in the cleanliness of his mind, unaffected by the voice of the demon. He didn't know if this would be permanent, he’d been possessed so long the idea of Exor being gone permanently felt about as far away as his hopes of a positive relationship with Scott.
So when the dust cleared, and he saw the sad remains of Scotts hand, Xornoth used the alien energy that Aeor seemed to give him, to pool his magic around his little brother and heal whatever he could, focusing his energy on the hand that held him with such determination and care.
Slowly but surely, Scotts hand seemed to materialize in front of him. Xornoth squinted his eyes in concentration, trying his best to remember what his brother's hand looked like, it was pale, long fingers, thin nails, worn down to the bone.
By the end of it, both of the brothers were exhausted. Scott laid on the ground unconscious, and Xornoth remained in his brother's hand, the excitement of the day seeming to have finally caught up to him as he leaned against one side of his prison.
***
When Scott woke up, it was to a dull pain that had spread all over his body, and an intense urge to curl up and go back to sleep.
Of course, going to sleep with your back to an altar is bound to raise some issues, back and neck pains for a couple weeks, but this pain reached the top of his head and the tips of his fingers. A soft burn in his bones that seemed to feed off his sapped energy and anchor him down to the ground.
Just as Scott was about to fall back asleep there was a gentle knock at the chapel doors.
Scott drew his eyebrows together in frustration. No one wanted to come to Rivendell unless it was for business or for kidnapping, and he wasn't in any sort of mood for either right now. Not to mention the fact that he was currently tightly clutching his demon brother in his hand, laying under an altar, the textbook definition of “suspicious”, it was safe to say he didn't look presentable right now either.
“Scott, are you in there?”
Damn you Kathrine. Scott thought as he dragged himself back up. The door opened as Scott got back to his feet.
His hair was a mess with the majority of his hair now sitting in front of his face. He leaned most of his weight on the altar, but there was no way to hide the way his back hunched over in a show of his pain.
Kathrine stood at the door, mouth hung open. She had looked almost confused when she walked in, but now her face was contorted in the most convincing show of terror that Scott had ever seen. Her eyes widening as she scrambled down the carpet and held her hands up, almost as if she thought that Scott might topple over and die at any moment.
Scott huffed with a small smile, she would be right in that assessment. The pain had subsided to an impressive degree, but with that also came an odd fog over the back of his eyes. He felt like his world was tilted to the side, all he wanted to do was lay back down and get some sleep.
“Scott what’s… in your hand?” Scott raised an eyebrow, before looking back down at his hand. Wait, his hand? Hadn't he lost that a moment ago?
“It's nothing.” He answered before looking back up at her. He did his best to portray the cold king that stood above them all, the one with an opposing aura that struck fear into even the ocean queen. “Why are you here, Kathrine?”
Kathrine scowled, her eyes shooting back to Scott’s closed fist but looking back up at him with pursed lips and drawn in eyebrows. She almost looked concerned.
“I want to know how we’re celebrating Xornoth’s defeat.” She went to say something else, but Scott was already moving toward the door. The empress rushed to catch up with him.
It was a cathartic scene, an empress with her hands held up, ready to catch the elven king that looked like he’d already died. His taller stature doing nothing to hide the skin that was paler than freshly fallen snow, and the way his shoulders slowly slumped as he moved forward.
The elf strode through the chapel and the roads with an energy that he didn't have. Every step felt like he was walking on glass and the glaring sun did nothing for the pounding headache that was forming at the back of his mind. By the time he stood in front of the castle, there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and he felt like he’d just climbed three mountains.
Kathrine was still following him, but he didn't pay her any mind, he also ignored the way her worried expression and demeanor refused to melt away as he strode through the castle.
Being inside the castle helped a bit, the shade protected his eyes from the worst of the sun, and the cooler wind helped chase away some of the sweat, but it didn't stop the fog that had begun to form at the back of his mind.
Eventually, they made it to his office. Owls and papers flew through the enchanted air as Scott made his way to the circular desk that sat in the middle of the room. Scott gleaned at Kathrine who was staring dumbfounded at the scene in front of her.
He would admit, if he were not used to elven magic, this would probably be quite beautiful. Despite the messy way everything looked, the papers in the air would eventually be caught by an owl, who would carry it through one of the many open windows, bringing whatever letter or scripture their owner had called for to them. It was much faster and more efficient than having a group of workers scrambling around the library.
“I have the invitations here, everything you want to know should be on them” Scott dropped into his chair, leaning back for a moment before pushing himself forward. The king opened a crate in front of him, shuffling through the papers and putting a few on a table nearby as he searched for the invite list. He looked up at Kathrine who was holding her hands close to her chest. Her eyes looked misty, as if she was about to start crying.
“Scott... What happened?” Scott pursed his lips, the stone was still warm in his hand, and buzzing with activity. He couldn't let her see it, she would contact Gem. Gem would see it, and she would destroy Xornoth’s prison, taking Xornoth down with it. The king couldn't let that happen, not when he was so close to getting something back from his past.
“Contacting a god is messy business, Kathrine. You don't talk to god and expect to come out the same way you went in.”
“Does this have something to do with Xornoth, Scott?” Kathrine took a step forward, Scott clutched the stone tighter, he was so close, he couldn't give up now that he was so close.
“I thought it better to do some of my own research, Aeor would never let me get hurt beyond recovery.” Kathrine grit her teeth, looking up at Scott as if he had just spit in her face.
Silence echoed through the office, Kathrine’s gaze never faltered or wavered. Scott didn't blame her for being worried. After all, if he looked half as bad as he felt, then he probably did look dead.
“Scott…” Silence, again. Scott straightened up in his seat, trying his best to look the part of someone who knew what they were doing, of the ethereal ward of god that he so proudly portrayed. That seemed to only make Kathrine wither, her gaze going from worried to heartbroken. Like a disappointed mother staring at a son that's gone down the wrong path. “Just… don't die.”
Scott stiffened. Between how busy he’d been with Xornoth and the banquet, the thought of death through Aeor never really came to his mind. Of course, he was an elf; he would likely outlive Kathrine for many millennia, but there was something in the way she said it. Maybe it was the tone, or the look in her eye as she stared the king down. The elf dying sounded more possible than it should have when she spoke to him like that.
Believe it or not, the icy king did still have feelings, and he regarded his friends highly. The thought of leaving his fellow rulers, never being able to have meetings again, never planning to hang out, never just sitting, never enjoying Gem’s company, never seeing Katherine's plushies. The mere idea made his heart shatter.
The crystal in his hand must have sensed this change in his demeanor, or heard what Kathrine said, because it started vibrating in his hand with a newfound vigor. Scott hoped that his brother didn't notice the way he hesitated when Kathrine made that plea. Perhaps he did. Perhaps Xornoth was worried, but Scott couldn't find it in himself to make a promise to Kathrine.
As much as he loved his life, his people came first. If a threat like Xornoth came again, there was no guarantee that they would walk out with everyone intact.
Scott was a king, assassination attempts were an average thing for him, finding poison in his tea was just the start of a gloomy Monday.
He couldn't promise that he wouldn't hurt himself, that would be wrong. Even when Kathrine’s eyes started to widen as the silence stretched on, as he felt his shoulders slump in defeat, the sun warming his back, his hair loose in his face as he stared a terrified Kathrine down, he spoke once more.
“I will do what's right for my people, my friends, and my family.” With that, Scott stood back from his chair and rushed past Kathrine, a stride unbroken by herbroken retorts. He could sense her hands as they reached for him, but before long he was once again walking down the halls, his boots clicking loudly in the deafening silence of the office.
Kathrine would need to get her invitation later, the meeting before the banquet was going to happen soon. This wasn't his last conversation with Kathrine, far from it. When everything calms down, the elf would be able to sit her down, and explain his odd behavior. Then everything would be okay again, he hoped.
Scott stumbled through the castles, past innumerable doors, ignoring concerned maids and butlers alike before he burst into his room, promptly falling on his bed. He didn't even remember landing on his pillow.
***
Scott’s hair was in his face.
To anyone else, this was probably a normal occurrence, after all, even some of the highest ranking elves in Rivendell still slept with their hair down. Scott was not one of those elves. Whether it be a loose ponytail, or braid, the king never allowed his hair to go unprotected in his sleep.
Yet, when he sat up, he looked down to see that he had gone to sleep in his daywear, his hair had fallen out of the many pins and charms that had been woven into them during the day, and his fist was still tightly closed around Xornoth.
The first prince seemed to have quieted down during Scott’s sleep, the king slowly unwrapped his fingers from the stone, marveling at the clear glassy appearance. The stone had gone from a quartz fog to a ruby shimmer overnight. When Scott finished unwrapping his oddly oversensitive hands from his brother, he was met with two red blinks. A clear hello from his brother dear.
“Good evening, Xornoth.” Scott looked out the window as the moon poured a bright blue light over his bedchambers. The stone in his hand had remained warm as he stood up and made his way to his closet. The maids would undoubtedly be in bed by now, but he could get himself dressed just fine tonight.
After getting himself dressed, taking out the few ornaments that remained in his hair, collecting the ones that remained on his bed, and placing them slowly on his vanity, Scott began brushing the multiple tangles out of his hair, Xornoth’s crystal sat up against his mirror as Scott got ready to go back to sleep.
Inside the crystal, Xornoth pondered intensely.
By all means, the elder prince probably shouldn't be alive, much less cradled so fondly by his brother as he went about his day to day. Scott had yet to use the chain that Xornoth was connected to, seeming to prefer carrying it around by hand. Whether that's because of some underlying fear of Xornoth possessing him, or because Scott still cared enough to try and keep him comfortable was left up for debate. Xornoth did his best to believe the latter.
Even as a stone, even when his skin was burning off its bones, Scott had been nothing if not gentle with Xornoth, and without the demon at the back of his head, it became harder and harder to ignore the injustice that Scott was giving him.
By all means Xornoth should have been locked up in some cave, left and forgotten forever. Instead, Scott brought out the books and started looking around for some way to help him.
Even if it was to feed some morbid curiosity, to ask Xornoth if he remembers things that Aeor had rightfully hidden from the young king, Xornoth couldn't help but feel touched by the gesture. The king didn't know, how could he? All Xornoth could do like this was shake around a bit, glow, and occasionally use calming magic, which apparently Scott was very much against.
“I’m going to spend this time checking on the crops,” Scott stood up from his chair, looking down at the stone with a small smile, “Wanna come with?”
Scott chuckled when the gem began shaking once more, reaching down and snatching it before it could fall off the table and placing a hand into his pocket to hold the gem more comfortably.
“Alright, let's go.”
Instead of going to the exit of his room, Scott made his way to the balcony, a pale hand coming up and slowly unlatching the doors.
The doors swung open with a flourish without Scott’s help, the linen curtains riding the wind with ease as Scotts snowy white wings appeared at his back. The bright blue moon reflecting in his eyes, in such a way that almost looked ethereal.
With the curtains at his back, Scott climbed over the rails of his balcony, standing on the edge and soaking in the adrenaline that ran through his veins as he looked down. Naturally, this was an irrational response, but his body never seemed to get the memo.
After all, what was the point? There was no fear of heights when the sky was your domain.
With that in mind, Scott allowed himself to fall forward, falling for only a moment before catching himself on the wind and making his way down to the kingdom.
His people were still asleep, but he didn't see anything wrong with taking inventory of the progress of the farms after they got rid of the demon.
Even after Xornoth was hidden away, their crops did not seem to immediately recover from the corruption. Scott had taken to giveing farmers holy water to better care for their crops, and hopefully chase away the corruption that remained. Of course there was the magical carrot that Aeor had gifted him, but even it couldn't save all the crops from being destroyed.
Scott only glanced at the crops that sat peacefully under the protection of the giant golden carrot, grains of wheat swaying slightly in the chilly Rivendell air. Their stems sat firmly in the ground, their grains heavy against their stocks.
“These are doing well,” Scott muttered, glancing farther away at the crops that were too far from the carrot to receive its blessing. His smile dropped as he made his way to the dying crops.
The corruption had long since faded away, but the damage was done. The wheat was stringy and fell easily to the harsh wind. Even the carrots had not returned from their withered state.
“This keeps up, and we won't be able to stay here…” Scott raised his head, scanning the small part of the kingdom that he could see. Tall houses, with families resting peacefully. Not a month ago everyone had been hearty and well fed, but it was hard to not notice the gaunt faces of children and their fathers, mothers with dark circles under their eyes as they smiled softly at their frail children as the days dragged on. Even in the night, it was easy to see some elves slinking around the alleyways trying desperately to find work so they could afford to feed their families..
It was a far cry from the picture of perfection that Rivendell had once been.
Scott was so engrossed in his kingdom's suffering, he didn't notice Xornoth’s stone beginning to vibrate in his hand. As he pursed his lips in thought, the stone began to warm up in his palm.
“AH-” The stone tumbled to the ground as Scott glared down at it, holding his hand close to his chest. His face dropped when he looked at it, the winter moon surrounding him in a bright white halo. Scott kneeled once more, reaching down for the stone.
The stone melted into the ground, the cool winter soil welcoming it before Scott’s hand could come into contact with it. Before the young elf could do anything, the stone was gone and a pit began forming in the King's stomach as he began scanning the garden.
It was still impossible to know what Xornoth’s intentions with the kingdom were, it was easy to assume that he would destroy the healthy wheat under the carrot, take away the small lifeline that was keeping the kingdom together. Scott couldn't help the dred that weighed on his shoulders as the thought stuck itself to the back of his head.
Before Scott could call out, or ponder too much on the dreadful situation he’d suddenly found himself in, a small buzzing came from the ground under his feet.
Looking down, the ground began flowing with a soft golden fog. The buzzing under Scotts boots melted away to a soft warm feeling at the soles of his feet.
The golden light was similar to what Xornoth had used that day in the cave, if not more… soft. Where that magic had been eerily similar to the flowing water of a babbling brook, this magic was more similar to a summer breeze. Raking across the fields and over Scott’s feet.
The magic wove through the earth, tapping deep into the dead roots of the farm. It breathed new life into the earth, chasing away any lingering corruption and allowing what little life that beat through the few plants to explode in a flurry of roots and magic
Scott stared in disbelief as the golden light spread to the wilted wheat and allowed it to grow under its influence. The once barely inch tall plants reached higher and higher until they nearly brushed his hips.
As Scott stared farther in disbelief, a sharp rustling rang through his ears before his hand came into contact with the now familiar feeling of Xornoths stone in his hand.
The stone gave a tentative pulse. Scott raised a slim eyebrow. Before he looked back down at the ground. The ground seemed to pulse with a new life, or new death if Xornoth truly had not changed since… well everything.
Scott looked around one more time, before he sighed and turned away. In all honesty, even some of their strongest magicians had no idea how to begin fixing the corruption. Despite the greatest minds in Rivendell trying to come up with a solution, all conversation soon became fruitless, beyond hiding it somewhere else where it would undeniably spread once more.
Whatever Xornoth had done a moment ago, couldn't have made anything worse than the situation already was, and if he somehow had, then it wasn't like anyone would notice… or that Scott could do anything about it.
“If this is all some sort of cruel joke to try and make my empire crumble, I’ll leave you in a box at Gem’s doorstep and let her do what she wishes with you.” Scott glared down at the stone in his hand as it gave him a tentative thrum. Scott forced his face into a set line as he made his way back to the castle. As surprising as this turn of events had become, he needed to at least try and get some sleep tonight. After all, he had a gathering to attend next week and there was so much more planning to be done.