Chapter Text
The next morning, Scott doesn’t eat breakfast. Jimmy had advised against it, since he’d thrown up after being crowned himself, and Scott trusts his judgement enough. He’s nauseous anyways, nerves eating away at him. If only one small thing goes wrong – if Jimmy hesitates for even a split second – Scott could die today. It’s not a comforting idea.
So, he sits at the table next to Jimmy, flanked by their respective guards on either side. Even Martyn joins them today, though the look on his face betrays that he didn’t get nearly enough sleep.
Scott’s sipping on a cup of tea like it’s going to poison him, decorative sleeves swishing against the table every time he raises his hand. Jimmy had advised against wearing nice clothes, too, but Scott hadn’t heeded that warning. These robes will surely be ruined after today, but he insists on wearing the all-cyan ensemble that’s customary for consorts in Rivendell.
The bottom layer of this particular set had once belonged to his father and some of the embroidery still shows the flowery crest of House Blossom. Over top, he wears a robe made specifically for this occasion, with the same swirling patterns of interlocking poppies and orchids he’d had on his wedding robes.
The embroidery is done in gold, since he’s already royal before this particular coronation, and he knows Cleo did the stitching on the sleeves. He worries at her handiwork a little, and indirectly touching her hands calms him down enough that he takes another sip.
They walk the short path to the nearby pond surrounded by the inhabitants of the Cod Empire. The sun still beats down, which is part of why they’re up early enough to hear the birds sing. Scott’s holding on to Jimmy tightly, almost leaning on his husband as they walk towards the same place every Codfather has been crowned.
Jimmy’s told him, some time ago, that Scott will be the first to be crowned Consort to the Codfather, as none of Jimmy’s predecessors had gotten married while in office. Apparently it was quite the scramble for the Cod Empire to figure out how to crown Scott. In the end, they settled on a ceremony similar to how the Codfathers are crowned, though without some of the rites.
They stop by the bridge that leads to a pagoda in the middle of the pond. Some words are said by a council member that Scott hardly pays attention to, too focused on his own people in the crowd. Impulse has taken Bdubs on his shoulders, and Scott feels even more sick for a moment as he realizes what Bdubs is about to witness.
He’s pulled from his thoughts by Jimmy tugging on his hand a little, and Scott plays off his absentmindedness as he follows the Codfather across the bridge. A member of the council follows them, footsteps harsh on the spruce wood. The wood came from Rivendell, he knows, or at least the saplings it grew from did. It’s a sparse comfort as Jimmy leads him to the hole in the centre of the platform.
Something else is said to the crowd on the banks as Scott takes the steps down into the pond. Jimmy follows him, stepping in until the water reaches his knees. He smiles softly at Scott as he squeezes his hand, and Scott shoots him a smile back. Then, he kneels.
The water is warm, thank Aeor, but it’s still uncomfortable as it soaks through the heavy layers he’s wearing. He feels Jimmy pet through his hair once, careful to not unsettle any of the jewellery he’s wearing. Jimmy moves around him, standing at his back as he settles a pair of cuffs into place around Scott’s wrists, tied securely behind his back.
He glances at the bank, and makes brief eye contact with Skizz. Then, Jimmy pushes him under.
He’s aware of it, is probably the worst part. He feels the water go into his nose, feels Jimmy’s hand turn more harsh as Scott struggles against his bonds despite knowing better – reduced to the base instinct to survive.
He lets out his final breath at some point, and lives in the vacuum he’s pulled in his lungs for a moment more, before gasping. The water rushes into the hole in his chest, and he only gasps more as he feels it clog his throat.
Behind him, Jimmy pushes him deeper, and some delirious part of him thinks this is why no Consorts have ever been crowned.
Finally, when he’s sure Jimmy will let him die here – will have played the long con to get control of Rivendell – everything fades to black.
He’s falling, maybe. Maybe he’s floating instead. He’s on his back in the main bath of a bathhouse in Rivendell, floating along peacefully with his ears in the water so the servants can’t call him. If he floats here long enough, he’ll bump into Xornoth or Muireadhach, who are both doing the same thing he is.
When he manages to rip his eyes open, though, he sees that the candles aren’t lit, and the entire bath is pitch black. He manages to right himself, treading water as he looks around. Xornoth and Muireadhach have disappeared, no splashing noises in the dark to guide him to the edge.
Something pulls him under. No hands or mouths or ropes, just something, and he tries to scream out, but finds nothing for the noise to reverberate against.
He’s falling again. This time he’s definitely falling. Either feet first or head first, he doesn’t know. The ground is fast approaching though the doesn’t know where from. His eyes are open still, he thinks, so he closes them. When he opens them again, it’s to a blinding light.
Carefully, he wiggles his toes, and finds that he can. Next, he rolls his ankles a little, followed by bending his knees ever so slightly. Finally, he takes a step forward, and finds himself on a blinding white platform, floating in a lightbox. Hysterically, he thinks this must be what it’s like inside the lanterns they set off at the solstice.
He blinks, closes and reopens his eyes, and finds himself staring up at a massive stag, with bright white fur and golden antlers.
“You are a difficult man to contact.” A voice booms, seemingly from nowhere.
“You are an easy god to avoid.” Scott retorts. When he moves his fingers, he finds he can clench his fists.
Aeor is silent for a moment, and Scott can tell the god is pissed off.
“Do you think you can defeat my brother?” Aeor says with an arrogant laugh. The stag throws its head back, “Without my help?”
“Can you?” Scott asks, glaring up at the god.
For a moment, the light flares, and Scott closes his eyes to avoid the sudden increase in brightness. When he opens them again, Aeor is knelt on the ground, head level with Scott’s.
“You are dying.” Aeor asserts.
“No, I’m passing out. I have full faith that I will not drown today,” the lie tugs at him a little, but Scott is more than used to it by now.
A booming screech fills the space, and Scott’s hands fly up to protect his ears somewhat. Aeor is laughing, he realizes.
“So you have faith, after all.”
“I do. I had faith in you once, too, you know,” he squints a little as he looks off into the endless white.
He feels a tug at his hair, something that’s only barely there. The stag’s brow furrows slightly.
“You will give me what I am owed, little prince. Or else, your heart will break.”
“You’ve told me what your happy ending looks like. I will not work towards a world without my brother in it.” Scott bites out.
The tugging at his hair gets stronger, until it finally pulls him backwards. He falls again, through the endless white until it turns grey, then black, then to blue sky.
He’s on his back when he comes to, head to the side so he can cough out the last of the water. He does as such, jerking up and shaking himself loose from the hands that were holding him. It hurts as much coming up as it had going down, if not more, and it’s when he retches that Scott understands why Jimmy had told him not to eat anything.
Two strong arms haul him up, and he recognizes them as Jimmy’s for only a moment before he’s stood upright on shaky legs. On the bank, the people of the Cod Empire cheer when he takes shaky steps across the bridge back to them. He gets there first, followed by Jimmy and the council member.
Someone brings forth a pillow with a bronze diadem on it. It will slot perfectly under Scott’s Rivendellian crown, which Skizz is holding off to his other side. The council member takes the bronze crown before handing it off to Jimmy.
Scott kneels again, bowing his head to Jimmy, who briefly runs a hand through his wet hair. The bronze crown is placed on his head gingerly, and Scott’s own hand shoots up to help secure it. His wrists ache as he moves, bruises forming already from where he struggled against the handcuffs.
“Are you willing to take the oath?” Jimmy asks, voice raised slightly so the crowd can hear him.
“I am,” Scott answers through this jagged throat.
“Will you promise and swear to govern the people of the Cod Empire with the same justice and mercy you govern the people of Rivendell with?” Jimmy asks next.
“I will.” Scott answers with finality.
Then, though the syllables are clumsy in his mouth, Jimmy whispers in Scott’s ear.
“Rise and meet your people.”
Jimmy hauls him back up, grabbing one wrist and holding up Scott’s hand as he addresses the crowd.
“People of the Cod Empire, I present to you Smajor of Rivendell, Consort to the Codfather!” there’s cheering from the crowd, and Scott catches his guards’ smiling eyes a few times.
He walks forward on shaking legs, into the waiting crowds. When he gets to the middle, he kneels back down before lowering himself further. When his forehead touches the ground, he rests there for a moment, arms stretched out in front of him.
He rights himself slowly, standing up unstably.
“I promise to serve the people of Cod Empire however you need to the best of my ability!”
A short walk away, back in the castle, an exhausted owl collapses on Emperor Consort Smajor’s desk, worn out from the fastest flight of its life.