Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s strange, having memories that aren’t your own. Scott’s mother calls it a blessing. His father calls it a curse.

Scott tries not to dwell on it too much. He has a country to run, after all.

The only person Scott thinks is right in this situation is his advisor, who says it is simply another challenge he has to overcome in order to be a better person, come to terms with himself, and stop acting like such a fucking child. That he needs to accept it, learn from it, and move on. And it is that very same advisor who is currently standing over his bed, telling him to wake up.

“You have a court case to oversee in half an hour, and unless you want to starve I suggest you get out of bed,” Conairor informed him as she pulled back the curtains overlooking the rest of Rivendell.

“I blissfully await the day you let me sleep in.”

“You can sleep in tomorrow, Smajor.”

“Your jokes are getting worse by the day, Conairor. We both know I’ll get to sleep in when I’m dead.”

“Yes,” she continued absentmindedly, “and while we’re on the subject of you dying, I think I can only reasonably push back your arrival at the manor until 7 pm, under the condition that you are productive and helpful around here.” He watched as she moved swiftly from one the window back to his bedside, not wasting a moment before beginning to pester him again. “With that being said, I hope that you’ll be a little more inclined to get your work done today.”

“I am always nothing short of enthusiastic about paperwork. Almost as enthusiastic as I am towards the way you force me to do it.”

Conairor sighed, “I hope to see you at your office by ten,” and left, closing the door with a soft thunk behind her.

Scott took a moment longer to appreciate the soft silk of his linens and the ornate details on the bed frame before he decided that he would be spending enough time here tomorrow. Conairor was right; as much as he didn’t want to, he really should get his day started.

As much as he detested the blue robes and golden filigree that dominated his clothing, he had to say, getting ready in the morning had to be one of his favorite parts of his day. It was one of the only times he could truly enjoy the quiet of his thoughts and the world around him and just breathe.

He still slept in the same room he slept in as a child, the same white walls, the same golden furniture, the same blue bedspread. The only thing that ever changed was him.

Once he was ready, he looked himself in the mirror, took a breath, and left his room to go face Rivendell.

&

Normally, Scott would have rushed through the halls of the castle, not bothering to stop once. He had seen every inch of the place a thousand times before, and besides, he typically had more important matters to attend to.

Today however, he was in no rush. The thought of dinner was appealing, but the thought of dinner with his parents was not, so suddenly the decorations that had been put up in honor of the holiday were nothing short of enthralling as he brisked down the hallways and staircases, making sure to admire and complement every nook and cranny before Conairor showed up and made him leave at sword-point or the staff started asking questions.

And sure, he had seen it all in great detail yesterday when the crown had all of its formal festivities, but he needed to stall.

It really was pretty, seeing the lavender added to the bouquets of hydrangeas and purple heather at the top of the stairs and the arches decorated with yellow chrysanthemums and daisies out front. The extra purple always brought a little bit of life to the stiff, steel gray corridors.

It wasn’t life he would be around to see, though.

At 7:08 pm, Scott decided he really couldn’t put off leaving any longer and left the gates of the castle behind him. At 7:19, he, along with a guard, boarded a train and, at 7:34, Scott exited it unwillingly.

At 7:37 he reached his parents manor and began the long walk up to the door, flanked by tiger lilies and tall trees on both sides. The dark golds and greens of the lawn are beautiful at night, stark against the expansive gray and black house.

Finally, at 7:39 pm, Scott knocked on the door, a booming noise in the quiet of the street. A few seconds later, the door was opened by the house butler whose name Scott had never managed to remember.

“Ah, Scott, we didn’t know if you were coming.” Even though it was technically more personal, being called “Scott” put him on edge. Being referred to almost exclusively by your last name for a year will do that to you.

Add that to the fact that it struck some deep memory of Other Scott’s and, well, let’s just say they weren’t off to a great start.

He chuckled, clipped and strained. “To be honest I didn’t know if I’d be able to come either. I’m sure my parents will be happy to see me, though.”

“It’s always so sweet, seeing how much they care about you.” They smiled, evil and genuine and understanding without sympathy. “Would you like to come in?”

“I’d love to,” he said, hesitating at the doorway.

The manor might not have been as big as the castel, but it was, if possible, more lifeless. As he passed off his coat and ventured down the hall, he heard every click of his heel against the floor, every rustle of fabric, every breath he took. It felt abandoned.

It was only after he had passed the dining room and kitchen and begun to approach the lounge that he began to hear hushed voices. Four, from what he could hear, and if he had to guess he would assume it was his parents, his aunt, and a staff member.

Indeed, when he opened the door, he was met not only with abrupt silence but with the faces of his mother, father, his mother’s sister, and the second of the eight staff members here, Libal. Even with the additions of Scott and the butler guy, the only people who really seemed comfortable and happy to be there were Scott’s parents.

Scott hovered at the doorway for a moment before sitting on the only unoccupied chair.

“Ah, Scott, darling,” his mother said, “we were just waiting for you. Thank you, Libal, we will be taking dinner now.”

Scott swallowed his exasperated sigh and stood up again. “Thank you for waiting for me, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but we did. We couldn’t have such an important dinner without you.”

“Exactly,” his father said, coming into step next to him as they walked down the hall. “Today is such an important day, and who could possibly be more important than family.”

Scott knew where this was going, so he just plastered on a smile and said, “No one.”

Sure enough, as soon as they had all sat down and gotten served at the spacious table, his father broke the silence by saying, “So, I hear the economy is flourishing, right now.”

Scott sucked in a breath and said, “Yes, I like to think I’ve gotten quite good at protecting the state of things.”

Or; ‘The economy is doing well, but is that really what’s safest for the country?’ ‘Yes, I have things covered, nothing’s going to go wrong.’

His mother cut in, “I’ve heard that you’ve been giving away mountains of iron, Scott, but that can’t be true, can it?”

Now that, that rubbed him the wrong way. He’d been trading away excess iron with other countries, because they had barely any and it went for so much over there. He saw a business move and took it. He wasn’t- creating alliances, or whatever they thought he was doing. He wasn’t even taking in much as payment.

But, of course, he didn’t want to escalate the conversation. He was on thin ice already.

“Are you really sure it’s a good idea for you to be making alliances with people you don’t know?” That was his father.

“I am being as cautious as I can be, don’t worry. I’ve always taken your advice to heart.”

“But- you’ve been talking to- what, four or five countries in this past year alone. That’s not very wise.” His mother.

“I am only talking to them for trading purposes, and four isn’t that many. They’ll be gone by next year.”

“Isn’t now as good a time as any to sever ties?” His mother, again.

“I can’t very well do it right now, but trust, once the new year has begun I will no longer be in contact with them.” A strong promise, and an even more butal lie.

“Well, at least those visions of yours have stopped you from getting in contact with the Cod Empire. I’ve heard they’re starting alliances with almost every country in the area! Nice to know those memories have taught you something, eh.”

Yes, Scott thought as he tuned out his mother’s indignant cries of “Take that back,” they have taught me something. Now if only you’d learn that lesson too.

&

When Scott finally got back home, it was to darkness and silence. Everyone had gone home, back to their own homes, first to visit family, and then to be on their own for the holiday. This foreboding giant of a building was a home to no one but Scott.

Much like when he had first walked into the manor, there was no sound here except his own breathing. Unlike the manor, however, there was no muttering to walk in on, no discussions to interrupt, nothing that wasn’t his. There was only Scott.

Memories dripped from the walls, calling to be examined, but there was tomorrow for that. It was still only- he checked his pocket watch- 11:12, and he could cheat a little. No one would have to know. No one but him and Aeor was around.

The offices belonging to the Crown of Rivendell seemed even emptier than the rest of the castle, with no one else there. Good. It would be easy, then, to leave at midnight. He intended to go over his papers one last time, maybe send a letter or two. He didn’t really have anything to do.

What he did not expect to see was a card on his deck with a single purple verbena taped to it and sealed with the Cod Empire’s stamp. Next to it was a card that read:

Smajor,

In case you get back early and decide today of all days is the day to get things done, here’s something to start off your evening.

I trust that you’ll go to your room at midnight, and have a good new year.

Conairor

Scott sighed. She knew him too well. Of course he would come here looking for a distraction, and of course he would stop at midnight, and of course he would feel just bad enough about shouldering Aeor that he would face his problems head on for once instead of pretending the Cod Empire didn’t exist.

He opened the letter.

To all who receive this message,

The Cod Empire has officially gone to war with the Grimlands. All support you can provide is greatly appreciated. You will be compensated for everything that you give to help.

Thank you,
The Cod Empire

Maybe it was all of the lavender and daisies that were strewn around the palace for the occasion that made the verbena meaningless. Maybe that was why the allium he considered sending back ended up in the fire. Maybe they were the reason the verbena caught his eye. Maybe they were the whole reason he even bothered to open the letter in the first place. Does it really matter in the end? (Yes, it all does.)

Well, either way, he was on holiday. They were all on break. There really wasn’t much Scott could do without going against Aeor, going against himself, no matter how tied to his past Jimmy might be.

They were different people now, and Scott had to put himself, and his country, first.

&

It was the letter, Scott decided later, that caused the nightmares.

The first morning of the new year, Scott woke up from a fitful night of sleep with the images of blood and red spider lilies still fresh in his mind.

Scott might start agreeing with his father, maybe this was a curse.

But Aeor gave him these memories, so he was going to fucking accept them.

Crawling out of bed and rubbing his eyes, Scott decided he needed to do something. Write, probably. Figure out what Other Scott had to tell him.

Oh, and get food, too. That was probably important.

Twenty minutes later, Scott was sitting alone at the long, long table in the formal dining room with a piece of toast and eggs in front of him, next to an open notebook, ready to throw Other Scott into the fucking void.

Today was about him, and figuring out who he was, so why was he sat going over someone else’s memories? What was there to gain from this?

Of course, there was the obvious. Learning that his Aeor had done the right thing in protecting them from outside harm on this mountain didn’t stop him from finding some wonder in the company he kept in another life. Knowing that people, all people, were capable of kindness has been one of his greatest reassurances to date.

Maybe the fear of the unknown is greater than the fear of death, especially when you’ve already died.

Maybe up here in the palace he has nothing to fear at all, with power and security and freedom and friends and anything one could ever ask for.

Which has lead him to his current conclusion, that all of this is stupid and weighing him down. He has his own life to live, why bother overthinking someone else’s.

He packed up his things, making sure to wash and put away his dishes in the proper places. Honestly, the best thing for him to do is to find something to do, not think about.

Jimmy wasn’t his issue to be concerned about.

&

Around lunch of Tuesday, three weeks later, Scott had almost put the new year out of his mind. There really wasn’t much to think about, especially since he had about thirty other issues demanding his attention. Overall, however, it was a fairly standard day running Rivendell.

So it came as a surprise when, as he was walking past the main doors, he heard the faint buzzing of an elytra and the firework rockets that power it. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen anyone wearing an elytra. They were typically reserved for people with injured wings and, while not uncommon, from the way that person was flying, they were injured badly.

Scott was feeling the cold wind on his face and hearing the thump of the door behind him before he could think it through.

The snow crunched beneath him- no, it was dirt, grass- the sky was clear- no, it was cloudy- and all Scott could focus on was Jimmy’s airborne body, covered in burns from explosions.

How ironic, that he was only there to catch him this time around.

It was sort of awkward, with Jimmy’s arms slung over his shoulders and Scott’s wings flared at an awkward angle to keep him upright and Jimmy’s weight entirely on Scott, but he was alive.

They were as alive as they could be.

&

Scott was in charge of a country that didn’t accept foreigners, who looked for danger at every turn, and it was his job to keep them safe. Scott wasn’t married, didn’t have to be there for Jimmy no matter what, didn’t live under any vows. Scott had no business with the Cod Empire.

He brought him inside anyway.

Maybe Scott just wanted to do a good deed for once. Maybe dropping all of his duties for that day was simply the right thing to do. That’s what he told himself, at least.

He had barely managed to step back into the palace and place Jimmy back on his own to feet when Jimmy decided that no, they were not doing that, and collapsed right onto Scott all over again.

All at once, and for multiple reasons, it suddenly dawned on Scott that this was going to be a long afternoon.

“Can you- stand? I’m sorry, it’s just a bit difficult to walk like this.”

Jimmy mumbled. Scott asked him to speak up. He got back, “...hurts,” somehow said with more than the pain of the current burns they were dealing with. The pain in that voice was enough to kill him, to kill anyone.

If Scott found the will within him at that very moment to carry Jimmy to the ends of the Earth and back, that was between him and Aeor.

Luckily, they only saw four people on the way to Scott’s rooms, and thus only got stopped four times. Scott was sure if they ran into even one more person, he would start yelling, formality be damned.

The first was an ambassador, visiting for the day, and subsequently already treated to the worst accommodations they had to offer. Despite their pleas to know if Jimmy was alright, Scott wasn’t proud to say he didn’t make their stay any more welcoming.

The second was a judge, who stopped him for by far the longest time, yelling at him about bringing the untrustworthy onto sacred ground. While he probably had a point, Scott tuned him out and pushed on as soon as he could.

The third was a maid, who honestly was more concerned for how distraught Scott looked than anything else. They were likely the person Scott was least annoyed to stop for.

The last person, and by far the worst, was Conairor, waiting at the top of the stairs. All she said was, “There you are, Scott, I was looking for you all- oh.”, before brushing past them, clearly deciding she didn’t want to be involved. Fair, Scott didn’t want to be involved either.

Jimmy ended up lying on the couch next to the window in Scott’s room (he had never felt the need for it until now, but now, oh lord was he grateful) and under a pile of Scott’s blankets (he needed them more). He whined a little when Scott pulled away, put overall stayed disturbingly quiet.

The burns were easy enough to treat with the first aid supplies Scott had in his room, but that by no means made them light wounds. Whatever tnt had done this had clearly done some real damage. Still, though, when news eventually spread to the medical staff, no matter how much Scott tried to keep it to himself and go about his day-to-day life as usual, he denied their assistance.

He wouldn’t trust anyone here with anything but Rivendell.

Jimmy was his own personal matter.

&

During the 2 days Jimmy was healing, Scott somehow managed to get the bare minimum it takes to run a country accomplished. It was lucky, then, that Jimmy woke up at nearly 1 am, because if it had been during the day, Scott was sure that bare minimum would have been thrown out the window.

Chapter Text

Jimmy woke up cold, with the exception of the burns on his legs, which were still numb, and comfortable, with the exception of his head, which hurt terribly. Overall, not an awful way to wake up.

He’d woken up to worse.

At first, he thought he had died and respawned in the Cod Empire, but no, he would have healed more, and his sheets weren’t this smooth, and- and that hadn’t been what happened, had it.

Slowly, he pried his eyes open and hazily looked at the room around him. He was positioned on a couch against the side wall furthest from the door. There was a bed, about three feet in front of him. Considering the light, there was probably a window directly behind him. There was some sort of furniture on the wall closest to his head, with the door on the wall closest to his feet. There wasn’t much else he could make out, considering the low light. That was all he knew.

Slowly, he shifted himself up so he was sitting, feeling a bit more awake now. The clock on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed he could now see read 12:52 am. Great. If no one else was awake, Jimmy was in for a long night, but he really didn’t expect to be able to go back to sleep. He was rested enough for a lifetime.

Still, maybe, maybe someone else was awake, maybe there would be someone who could help him. He could at least assess the situation better if he actually knew where he was. So, he pushed the blankets off of himself and slowly got to his feet.

He took a step forward, into the night.

It was at that moment three things happened:

1. Jimmy realized that this was a bedroom, and thus was likely to have someone sleeping in it at this hour, and when he checked, there was in fact a person in the bed.

2. The moonlight caught the engraving on the headboard and the gold all around him and you can’t really blame Jimmy for being slow on the uptake when he hasn’t been here before but at the same time he does run a trading empire and Rivendell is one of their closest neighbors and their ruler was married to him in a past life or whatever so maybe he should have gotten some sort of clue.

3. Scott shifted, rolled over, pushed himself onto his elbows, and blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

You should have seen this coming, he told himself. Just because Scott Smajor catches you when you fall out of the sky does not automatically mean you get invited into his home, he countered back.

Arguing with himself wasn’t going to do him much good now, though, because Scott was looking around before finally landing on him. It took him a moment to register what he was looking at, but the moment he did he looked relieved. Happy, even. Nothing like the love and care he remembered from Scott of the past, but kind. Of course he was happy to see Jimmy up and walking, he had been taking care of him. Either Scott was happy that Jimmy was okay again or he was happy because it was one less mouth to feed once Jimmy was gone, and Jimmy-. Jimmy didn’t know which one it was.

That kind of scared him, if he was being honest, that little seed of uncertainty.

“How do you feel,” Scott said, kind of slurred, into the silence.

“I feel okay,” Jimmy answered. “Just a little numb.” An awkward pause, or maybe just a tired one. It was hard to tell at 1 am. “Thank you.”

“Of course, you needed it. You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Now, in future years, Jimmy would blame the entire thing on the fact that he had just slept for two days straight and wasn’t fully awake yet. The important thing for now is that the next thing out of his mouth was “Right. You’re- you’re my husband, or whatever. It’s still- I’m still grateful, though. Thank you.”

If you could physically feel the mood change, this would feel like a slap to the face.

“I’m- oh. Right.”

The weight of all the unsaid things in Scott’s “oh” hung on them, weighing down their shoulders and trailing onto the floor.

After a moment of stewing in their awkwardness, Jimmy said, “I’m sorry, I know you’re not my husband in this life, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“No,” Scott said, careful and resigned, “you’re not.”

Jimmy glanced at the cod head that had been placed on the windowsill near where he had been sleeping. He breathed, took a moment to pull himself together. He turned back to Scott. “No, of course you’re not, which just makes it even kinder of you to take me in.”

“I was only doing what was right.” Again, careful. Not formal, but not at ease either.

“Of course you were,” Jimmy says, trying to match Scott’s formality.

There was a rift there now, and he wasn’t sure if it would ever be mended. If it even could be. He shook the thought away.

“‘Of course you were’, what, like you know me? We’ve barely spoken in this life.”

Jimmy sank a little into the floor. “I knew you in our last one.”

“That was a long time ago.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, and Scott didn’t seem too keen on continuing the conversation, so Jimmy was just forced to sit in his feelings, as confusing as they were. Finally, Scott took pity on him and spoke again before Jimmy could get stuck in his own head for too long.

“Did you ever think the memories weren’t real?”

He finally sat back down on the couch before thinking it over. “Maybe, when I was a very little kid. But basically as long as I can remember, I’ve had Lizzie, and Lizzie’s been friends with Joel. We couldn’t really understand what the memories were, cause we were really young, but they all matched up. I think that sort of confirmed for me that it could have happened, maybe. I don’t know, we were little, we just sort of joked about it a lot. We didn’t understand what they were, I mean, how could you?” Silence, again, that god awful silence. “What about you?”

“My parents used to think they were nightmares. I would- like, wake up panicking, so they assumed I was just prone to nightmares, and I assumed that was the sort of nightmares everyone else got. Nightmares were just weirdly vivid and memorable and repeating until I was about 10. That was- yeah, that was about when I started to remember names and faces and stuff. So I would start talking about Lizzie or Joel or you and my parents got suspicious, so they locked me in my room, and when that didn’t work they decided I was having visions. That was what we all thought they were until I was about 20, and I met Lizzie at a party for the first time, and I thought to myself, ‘Visions are supposed to make me different for everybody else, and if I’m not special, they must be memories,’ cause that was what Lizzie was calling them. Eventually that was what my parents started calling them, too, although I don’t think they really understand what they are. Sorry, I- you probably didn’t need to know all that.”

“No, no, it’s fine, that was all very interesting, seriously.” He smiled. “You said the visions make us special, and I guess you’re right about that. We gotta stick together. If- if you want to.”

Scott flopped back onto the bed. “Yeah. For better or for worse, we’re bonded, in a certain way.”

“We’re, like, the past-life-visions gang. We have each other’s backs.”

“Is that a line you stole from Lizzie,” Scott grinned, “or are my intuitions failing me since we’ve only spoken twice.”

“...maybe.” It was, it absolutely was. She started calling them the past-life-memories gang when she was around 14 and it ended up getting quoted so much it became an inside joke.

“I knew it!” Scott cheered. “You’re more like your past self than I thought.”

Jimmy opened his mouth to say he was his past, self, but he faltered. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe they weren't identical, only similar. Not the same, but overlapping. But- no, that couldn’t be right, could it.

“I’m still the same person, I’ve just changed. I still know everything I did back- before.”

“Did you know how to walk when you were little, then? Could you speak fluent English from the moment you were born? No, you just get weird dreams that you interpret through the lens of who you are now. You’re not the same person, Jimmy.”

“Maybe you’ve changed more than I have, then.”

“Maybe I have.”

Jimmy hummed. “Still bonded, though.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I could leave whenever I wanted to-”

Jimmy jumped on the opportunity. Scott was being stupid and he knew it. “C’mon, don’t you want someone to talk about your feelings with-”

“-you’re clearly a lot more invested in this relationship than I am-”

“-and be friends with and hang out with for once-”

“-just because you feel like you need to be overly-dependent on people doesn’t mean I have to be-”

“-and actually have someone to help you when you need it and to communicate with you and be in an actually healthy relationship with, c’mon.”

“-so when someone else starts a war with you don’t come crying to me.”

Scott stopped talking for a moment, so Jimmy paused. He didn’t want to be talking to himself in the dead of night, because that’s what this was, wasn’t it, they weren’t actually getting anywhere. He didn’t want to sit in the dark and quiet either, though, so he said, “Uhhh, are you done?”

“No,” Scott replied from over on the bed, “I just wanted you to be quiet before you woke anyone up.”

Ah, right. There were other people probably staying here.

“So…” Scott trailed off. “You can- like, communicate with people and have a solid relationship with them without relying on them, you know that, right? Like, ya know, wanting people without needing them, or whatever.”

That threw him off. “What?”

“You know, having healthy relationships by making sure you can leave if you need to, or whatever.”

Jimmy laughed at that. “Scott, I run a trade empire. I need to rely on other people, or my empire is useless. You’re talking to the wrong guy.”

“That’s just a matter of circumstance, though-,” Scott begins to say, methodical and tired, slowly pulling himself out of the conversation. But Jimmy was frustrated, and scared, and if he wanted there to be emotion in the conversation there fucking would be.

“I can’t just- just take myself out of this shit, Scott. Yes, it’s a matter of circumstance, I’m in a fucking war.”

“And how did you get into that situation in the first place, exactly?”

Jimmy made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a splutter. “By not hiding myself away on a mountain my whole life!”

“Exactly! This- this conversation really is getting us nowhere, huh.”

Jimmy sighed, fond, almost. Not quite, though. “You haven’t spent the entire time insulting me, so that’s an improvement.”

Scott seemed to turn a little red at this, but didn’t further explain himself.

Jimmy decided to prod a little bit, “It’s fine if you hated me in the beginning, dearest Scott, I don’t mind.”

Scott sighed, again. “I didn’t hate you, it was- it was rather the opposite, I was just- imagining something I didn’t have. Just drop it.”

Jimmy was still intrigued. “You can talk to me about whatever, you know. I’m not exactly going anywhere.”

“...right.”

“Like what you’re really thinking about right now, for example.”

Scott seemed to think this over for a second. “If you let people in like that, if you tell them whatever, you’ll get hurt. I mean, you, of all people, should know this.”

Something wasn’t adding up. “Well then why take me in, huh? Why bother?”

“I care about you, I- I don’t want to see you die.” And Jimmy knew this, of course. If he hadn’t seen him interact with other people, he would think that the rumors of Scott being cold and distant were stupid, but there was a certain care that was reserved only for Jimmy, along with a whole lot of uncertainty that neither of them knew what to do with.

“Well then of course people care about me, of course people want me alive.” Jimmy said, incredulous.

“And what happens when they stop? Stop caring, stop wanting you around, and move on?”

“I’m in the middle of a war, Scott. You want to know what happens when people stop wanting me alive? I die. I get blown up and die.”

It seemed to take a while for Scott to process this, running it through his mind once, twice, three times. Finally he said, “How… how are you not… scared? How do you sleep at night?”

“There’s a thing called trust, Scott, ever heard of it?” Jimmy said, but immediately regretted it. He should have been able to hear the uncertainty that had been in Scott’s voice already.

“But that’s not trust,” Scott breathed, barely more than a whisper, yet holding no more vulnerability than his normal speaking voice, “that’s stupidity.”

“Maybe it is. I think it’s worth it, though.”

Scott looked at him like he had just said jumping off a cliff would be worth it as long as there was lava at the bottom. Jimmy laughed at that, he couldn’t help it.

“What’s funny? No, really, enlighten me, Jimmy.”

This only made Jimmy laugh harder. “Nothing, you just looked so- shocked? Offended, almost, it was so- you should have seen your face, Scott.”

“Oh, wow,” Scott smiled, “you think my face is funny?”

“Hilarious.”

“How respectful of you. I appreciate you conversing with a fellow head of state the way you should.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy flopped back down onto his couch. “Are you allowed to get food right now, or do you have people to do that for you?”

“No, there’s no one around right now. Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?”

“Yeah, food sounds nice. I don’t know, you just seem like the sort of leader who has someone to cook their every meal for them. Or are hired assistants too much of a liability?”

“Normally I have people to make meals for me during the day, but they’re asleep right now. I can walk into the kitchens whenever either way, anyways. Besides, some people have the whole month off for the holiday, so we’re not, like, fully staffed.”

Jimmy looked up at the mention of a holiday, but- he probably should have guessed, what with all of the decorations. Rivendell customs just never seemed to come up after he learned them, though. Or maybe he had avoided learning them in the first place, he can’t remember. “I.. I really hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, no,” Scott said hastily, “you’re fine. It was a few days ago, anyway. You’re fine.”

“So if I’m not intruding, does this mean we can get food from the kitchens?”

“Yeah, of course,” Scott said, sounding resigned, “I’ll show you where to go.”

The kitchens, as it turned out, were annoyingly far from Scott’s room. Bad castle design, in Jimmy’s humble opinion.

Scott breezed through the hallways, never slowing or stopping for a moment, and Jimmy had to rush to keep up while still appreciating the beauty of the place. It was easy- too easy- to imagine Scott rushing through here while fulfilling his duties, carrying the same forced smile he always did at political events. Despite living here for 25 years, there was very little of Scott anywhere here, even the Scott who Jimmy had met tonight. This so clearly wasn’t Scott’s home, or even a place he lived in, but only a place he stayed. Very bad castle design.

Scott only doubled back when they reached a door, much like every other door here, and asked, “Do you... want to take some health potions before you leave? It’d be pretty fucking stupid of you to go without them when they’re right here.”

Jimmy only noticed the mild insult without acknowledging or questioning it. It was nice to see Scott take his guard down a bit, even if that did mean he got called stupid. “Of course, if you want to.”

The potions room wasn’t cramped, there were just a lot of things in it. The walls were covered in jars of ingredients and the tables were covered in already-finished potions. The stands weren’t currently in use, but they still took up a lot of room.

Scott grabbed a bag from the corner and filled it with 10 bottles of pink, almost-opaque liquid before handing it over. Jimmy muttered a small thanks in appreciation, and they filled out of the room.

The kitchens weren’t too much farther, they were just cold. They had to go down stone steps to get to the bottom floor, which Jimmy didn’t even think they had, but the kitchens were basically the only thing down this far. He could tell that it would be fine during the day with the ovens on, but they were in the middle of the fucking mountains, and all the heat was only going to go up. Scott was fine, obviously.

The bread left in storage was cold, because everything was, but it still tasted good. Different, but Jimmy was used to different. It mostly tasted good.

“You can’t just eat all of it before you go, you should save some.”

“I know that,” Jimmy said through a mouthful of bread.

Scott sighed, before passing him three more loves of bread to add to his bag. Jimmy dutifully placed them, one after another, into his bag, before suddenly turning and reaching into the cabinet and grabbing another loaf.

“Oh, you fucking bitch give that back.” Scott was smiling, though, so he wasn’t too mad.

Jimmy danced around the room for all of three minutes, smiling the whole time, before conceding and letting Scott have his bread back.

“So, uh,” Jimmy started after the bread was returned to its rightful spot in the cabinet, “I can’t stay here forever, right? Like, I’m kind of in the middle of a war, and my empire isn’t going to manage itself, so.”

Scott sighed, “Yes, you should probably get home before sunrise. If you need any assistance...”

“Oh no I’ll be fine, I know my way home, you’ve been a huge help already. I’d stay longer if I could, seriously.”

Scott looked surprised, but only for a moment, so fast Jimmy thought he might have imagined it. “You’re welcome to come back whenever. I mean it.”

Jimmy smiled, “Alright, thanks, then.”

Scott opened the door for him on their way out, and Jimmy remembered what it was like to be warm again.

As they were walking down the hallway, Scott said, with a touch of hesitation, “Since neither of us have exactly wanted us to be allies, and I doubt this changes much, just know that not everyone might take as warmly to you bursting in here unannounced as I did.”

“What do you mean, I do want to be your ally,” he saw Scott exhale out of the corner of his eye, “because of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? You’re a great leader.”

“Well, we haven’t exactly been professional today. I’ve called you stupid and a bitch and you tried to steal my bread and...” I vented all my weirdest, deepest secrets goes unsaid.

“Exactly, I can already tell we’re gonna be great friends.” Jimmy paused. He looked at Scott. He looked down at himself. He looked back up at Scott. “Besides, I’d be surprised if you had access to clothing dye that wasn’t blue.”

Scott looked embarrassed. “We have yellow, but it looks kind of bad, and green, but it doesn’t stick very well, and purple, but it’s very rare, and...”

“Nope! No excuses! I’m giving you access to every type of fabric in a million block radius and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Scott complained, but Jimmy could tell he was sold already.

“Your tailors are good, you shouldn’t only be wearing two colors, that’s not fair.”

“I will wear what I want and you can’t stop me.”

Jimmy only just then noticed that they had stopped moving and were standing in front of the entrance way. “I guess it’s time for me to go, then.”

“Soo...” Scott trailed off, “I’ll see you at Katherine’s next party?”

“Of course.”

As Jimmy turned to face Scott one last time, he noticed that he looked lighter, somehow. Like somehow, something had finally clicked into place. Jimmy was sure that he himself couldn’t look much worse. After all, he had just made himself a new friend.