Chapter Text
Fwhip is pacing back and forth because, yes, it’s come down to that. An inability to keep still due to a combination of nerves and excitement. Like he’s a child. Fwhip is the very powerful and well-respected Count of the Grimlands, and he’s pacing in front of a window because he’s excited.
And nervous.
Fwhip pauses just long enough to look out the window one more time. The river is visible in the distance, and it doesn’t look like there’s been any change. No ships built from bald cypress wood, painted bright green and gold to indicate their empire of origin. Just the same view of the river that he’s seen the last fifty-eight times he’s looked.
“You’re going to make yourself sick at this rate,” Gem says.
Fwhip pulls himself away from the window and walks over to where she’s lying comfortably on an armchair and writing in a very large book. He grabs the armrest, pushing and pulling on it and trying to resist the urge to start pacing again.
“I can’t help it,” Fwhip says. “I’m so— aagh! What if it all goes wrong?”
“It’s going to be fine,” Gem says, lowering her feather pen and fixing Fwhip with an even stare. “You’ve been planning this thing for months. And it’s not even, like, a big deal. He’s just going to be here for the holiday celebration, and then he’s going back to his own empire.”
But it is a big deal. This is the first official goodwill event between the Cod Empire and the Grimlands. (Those assemblies hosted by House Blossom don’t count, because despite Lady Katherine’s intentions, they were little more than brief, stilted meetings to confirm existing political standings.) What’s happening now is far more important. It’s hopefully going to be far more impactful. Fwhip isn’t the only one who’s excited about it— all of Eastvale has been preparing for the solstice festival with more enthusiasm than ever simply because of the guests they’ll be hosting. The decorations are grander, the events are bigger and more impressive, and every time he steps out into Eastvale, he hears people practicing their most festive music.
Fwhip has been hoping for an event like this for years, since before the war even ended, really. Reparations and diplomatic negotiations and adjustments to commerce routes take a long time, and unfortunately, they tend to take precedence over the fun things.
But they’ve both put in the work— both Fwhip and Jimmy. They’ve made it this far, and now it’s a matter of hours… or minutes… before he can see Jimmy again. Jimmy…
“It’s going to be fine,” Gem says, breaking Fwhip out of his swirling thoughts. “He wants to see you just as much as you want to see him. Probably.”
Probably.
Fwhip presses himself against the glass. It’s a terribly undignified action and if any of his advisors saw him they’d scold him for putting on such a scene in a window, where anyone passing by outside could look up and see him.
Well. They’ve been trying to fix his image with his people for years and he doesn’t think it’s done a whole lot. His people already know he’s a bit of a weird guy. Not much he can really do to damage his reputation when they’ve already seen him stumbling out of the research labs, hair and clothes covered in redstone dust and smoking from an experiment gone wrong. That particular anecdote was retold around the Grimlands for quite a while. The bards and the poets had creative things to say about it for weeks.
There’s a knock at the door and Fwhip jumps out of his skin.
“Count Fwhip? High Wizard Gem?”
“Yes, you can come in,” Fwhip says, quickly straightening his clothes so it isn’t so obvious that he’s spent a whole hour worrying and fretting.
Holly, one of his senior aides, comes in, and her face falls when she sees him. “What have you been doing?” she says. Her assistant comes in after her, quickly hurrying over to Fwhip and fixing his hair and smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes.
“The people stationed at the river have sighted the Cod Empire’s ship,” she says. “They’re ready at the docks to receive them and guide them through the city. I told you it was all going to be just fine. You need to calm down.”
“I’ve been working on that,” Gem says with a sigh, putting her book down.
Fwhip tries to keep in place as the assistant finishes fixing him up, and then Holly is opening the door again.
“The grand hall has been made ready,” she says. “I’m sure you’d like to get out of here, so you can head down there and wait for the delegation to arrive. It shouldn’t be very long.” She pauses, then adds, “Please try to remain presentable, Fwhip.”
Fwhip follows her out the door, sighing. “Okay, fine. Since I apparently can’t just meet him at the gate.” Or at the river, which he initially wanted to do.
Holly at least looks a little sympathetic when she looks back at him. “While your people do not have a problem with your own informality, it would be good to keep in mind that you also have the Codfather’s image to consider. As well as his people’s impression of you. It’s respectful to show them your best, because they have been putting in just as much work to make this happen.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Fwhip says. He makes an effort to not drag his feet so much in response to his souring mood. “I know. I’ve gotta be extra nice to him because it’s not just him I need to make a good impression on. Gotta be proper and formal and try not to commit any social or cultural blunders that’ll have the whole Cod Empire hating me again.”
And he certainly has been well schooled in what he can and cannot do around Jimmy. No touching him is a big one. Fwhip is still too much of a stranger to be allowed that.
It’s incredibly frustrating.
In many ways, Sausage has it easier in terms of these reparations, even though his hostilities extended far longer than Fwhip’s. Mythland borders the Cod Empire, so the two empires’ respective populations come into contact with each other more often, and there was already a lot of cultural amalgamation occurring along their border before the war. After the bridge and the environmental restoration efforts, Fwhip imagines Jimmy’s people had a far more favorable impression of Sausage.
Meanwhile, Fwhip is still a distant tyrant who supplied resources for demolitions and weapons to Sausage for the entire duration of the war. The damages continued even when Fwhip officially withheld his support.
Very frustrating.
Fwhip arrives at the Grand Hall and avoids the seating arrangements that have been prepared, despite the frowns that his assembled staff show when he makes his way to the center of the room instead. Everyone else is standing right now anyway, and he’d really rather not be sitting when Jimmy gets here.
Now, the docks must either be a whole lot closer than Fwhip remembers or maybe the transportation between the docks and the gates is impeccably fast today, because Fwhip feels like he’s been zoning out in muted dread for only a few minutes before the aides and attendants start rushing about even more than before.
Oh Void, Jimmy is here. He’s here.
Fwhip is about to start pacing, but Holly gives him a sharp look from across the room where she’s rearranging a crowd of politicians, so Fwhip fights to remain still.
It’s barely a minute later when the huge doors open.
Someone starts announcing names and titles, their voice echoing in the sudden silence that overtakes the Grand Hall.
Fwhip’s breath catches in his chest.
Jimmy is here.
And he looks good.
He looks really good.
He looks like he’s just stepped out of a fine painting. He looks like he’s been blessed by the light since the moment of his birth. He looks completely unburdened by the stress of running an empire— a serenity and confidence on par with the indomitable Ocean Queen. He sure doesn’t look like he’s been on a very long journey crossing the ocean and traveling upriver to the Grimlands all the way from the Cod Empire.
He looks beautiful. He’s dressed in the traditional bright greens and earthy golds of Cod Empire style, but his clothes are extra… fancy. Fashionable, loose and stylish, where Fwhip only remembers seeing him dressed for war or formal diplomacy. And his hair is neat and his fins and scales are especially pretty and he’s wearing more jewelry than usual and his ceremonial helm is gleaming in the light and—
And Fwhip is not paying attention to the list of the other representatives and dignitaries accompanying Jimmy. Oops. He’ll have to ask Holly for a quick who’s who reminder after this.
And, oh Void, Jimmy is coming this way, he’s coming right up to Fwhip, oh no—
“Fwhip!” Jimmy says, smiling bright and wide, and Fwhip thinks his heart might beat itself straight out of his chest. “It’s good to see you again!”
Fwhip manages a smile. “Good to see you too. You look great.”
Jimmy shrugs a little, glancing down at the intricately beaded tunic he’s wearing. “Thanks, uh. It’s all new things made special for this trip, actually. There’s some designers back home that have been working like mad to make nice things that’ll hold up against your winter.”
Fwhip nods. That’s… that’s true. Fwhip didn’t even think about that. The weather… of all things.
“Well, y-you look great,” Fwhip says. Then he realizes he literally just repeated what he just said. Thankfully, Jimmy doesn’t seem to notice or mind.
Unfortunately, their moment is far from private, and neither Fwhip’s staff nor Jimmy’s staff is interested in letting them just talk amongst themselves. Gerry, Fwhip’s chief of staff, is already at his side, gently nudging Fwhip to step back and remain at a cordial distance from Jimmy.
“It’s good to have you in Eastvale, Codfather,” they say warmly, placing a palm over their chest. “It is an honor, and a significant and meaningful advancement in the relationship between the Grimlands and your esteemed Cod Empire.”
“Thank you,” Jimmy says as he places a hand over his own chest as well. “It is our hope that this visit will give both our empires a better understanding of one another, for the sake of the future.”
Fwhip feels like he should be saying something, but Gerry continues on. Probably for the best. He’s not great at speeches.
“We share the same hope,” Gerry says. “And as we welcome your people to the Grimlands for the winter solstice— a time of peaceful reflection and fellowship— we offer our warmest hospitality. If there is anything you and your people should need, ask and it shall be delivered. As guests of the highest honor, your comfort is of the utmost importance.”
Well. Maybe Fwhip could have tried to memorize that little speech. He might not have delivered it quite as well as Gerry, though.
“That’s very kind of you,” Jimmy says. “We will make sure to communicate everything with your staff.”
One of Jimmy’s staff members— probably someone important going by how elaborate their clothes and jewelry are— steps up and says something to him. Her accent is unfamiliar, dragging certain syllables and ending phrases with a drawl, so despite the considerable amount of the language that Fwhip knows, he can’t quite tell exactly what she’s saying.
“Right,” Jimmy says. “I’ve something that I must take care of, as part of the Cod Empire’s formal greeting to your people. I know there’s going to be a more formal ceremony for this later, but as the leader and main representative of the Cod Empire, I would like to present you and your empire a symbol of our gratitude for this opportunity to share our cultures and display the goodwill between our people.”
Fwhip goes still. What— what is this? He didn’t know they were going to be doing gifts already. They said it wouldn’t be until later, during the actual solstice! It would be rude to interrupt and refuse it right now, but—
Very quickly, there’s no longer a chance to do anything besides respond positively. One of Jimmy’s people is already coming forth with an elaborate box, which she hands to Jimmy. Jimmy takes it, holding it in front of himself. He smiles again as he steps forwards.
“Count Fwhip, thank you for accepting the Cod Empire as your friends and allies. With this First Gift from our people to yours, I signify the desire of my people, that this visit continues to bring our peoples to a better understanding of each other.”
He lifts the lid on the box. Fwhip squints at the thing inside, and then his eyes go wide as he takes in the details.
Inside the box is a conduit like none other Fwhip has ever seen. A pure blue heart of the sea gleams brightly with the Ocean’s Blessing, and the shells that frame it are extraordinarily high quality, each of them further adorned with pearls and trimmed with gold.
It’s gorgeous, and Fwhip doesn’t even have to have a good understanding of magic to be able to sense its power. To his left, he can just see Gem in his peripheral vision, and a quick glance her way to check her reaction confirms that this is a very special gift.
“Thank you,” Fwhip says. Oh, shoot, he’s forgotten what he’s supposed to say in moments like these. “We’ll make sure to… uh, treasure this. Um.” Two of his advisors visibly wince. Someone else places a hand over their face and looks away. “Yeah, thank you.”
“It will be displayed in a place of honor for all to see, Codfather,” Holly says quickly.
Jimmy nods, smiling. He hands the box back to his attendant, who then moves to hand it over to one of Fwhip’s attendants. Alright, yeah, he definitely messed something up there. He’s sure he’s going to be scolded about it later and lectured on what exactly he’s supposed to do when he’s given a diplomatic gift in a formal setting like that.
“I’ve got gifts for you too,” Fwhip says. “But, uh. There’s going to be a ceremony for that later.”
Jimmy nods. “Of course. It’s just important for our culture that we gave that to you right away. Thank you for accepting it.”
Oh, Fwhip is in trouble already, and it’s not because he keeps stumbling around his words. No, it’s because Jimmy looks so cute and happy and it’s completely unfair that Fwhip can’t hug him or give him actual compliments to make him realize just what he does to Fwhip. Fwhip takes a moment to hold back the desire to put his face in his hands and say ‘aww’ or something that would get his butt kicked by multiple people instantly.
“Thank you,” Fwhip says once he has better control over himself. And before they can get into a back and forth exchange of simply thanking each other repeatedly, Holly cuts in once more.
“Codfather, we would like to give you and your delegation this time to settle yourselves in the guest wing that we’ve prepared for you,” she says.
Fwhip perks up. Maybe he can be the one to guide them— but someone tugs him back into place. Instead, a group of staff members arrives. One of them even speaks the Cod Empire’s language, which seems to make Jimmy’s people very pleased. Fwhip should be happy about that, but a note of despondency is already setting in. He hardly had a chance to talk to Jimmy, and most of it was boring political stuff. This can’t be how the entire visit is going to go, right?
“If there’s anything you need, just let us know,” Fwhip says, his voice slightly strained, wishing that Jimmy would turn back and do… something. Just for a moment longer with him. “Anything.”
And Jimmy does stop, but only long enough to look back and smile at Fwhip.
“We’ll do that,” Jimmy assures him. “I’ll see you in a little bit!”
Fwhip stands rigidly in place as the Cod Empire’s delegation is escorted out of the Grand Hall. Then he wobbles, but Gem catches him before he does something even more embarrassing like fall flat on his face. It’s shockingly kind of her.
“That could have gone a lot worse,” Gem says.
“Do you think they’re mad at me?” Fwhip says. “Jimmy’s people, not my people,” he clarifies.
Gem chuckles and shrugs. “It didn’t seem like they were. I’d say they’re all probably a bit tired from traveling. And I don’t have a lot of experience being around them, so it’s hard to judge their reactions.”
A chill runs through Fwhip. He was so focused on Jimmy that he barely even spared a glance for the other people in the delegation. Did he mess up? Is that the reason why Gerry and Holly and probably his entire political council looked like they had swallowed a lemon whenever Fwhip opened his mouth?
“But don’t worry so much, Fwhip,” Gem continues. “Jimmy wouldn’t bring along people who would hate this. I bet you anything they’re just curious about you and your people. They’re new to learning your customs too. That’s the point, right? There’s plenty of people in the Grimlands who are in the same situation. They just don’t know, but this is their chance to learn.”
“Right,” Fwhip says. “Thanks, Gem.”
Okay, he’s feeling better. Gem gives him a quick hug and excuses herself. Meanwhile, all around him, the crowd of people is also starting to leave. Some of them have work to do, others are leaving to travel back into Eastvale to carry on with their own solstice preparations. Fwhip doesn’t see Gerry anymore, but he catches sight of Holly, who offers him a tight smile and a nod.
Yeah, he’s going to hear all about what he did wrong later. At least Holly is going to be nice about it.
Fwhip retreats to his rooms, determined to change into something a little less formal than the clothes he’s been wearing all morning. He still needs to be dressed somewhat formally— just about all of his outfits for the duration of the visit have been meticulously prepared in advance with careful attention to his ‘image as the Count of the Grimlands’, but at least he was part of the decision making process. The clothes aren’t intrinsically bad, but he’ll be very happy when he’s allowed to wear his well-worn coat and permanently soot-stained scarf again.
Slightly more comfortably, Fwhip goes to sit down in front of the window in his bedroom. He can see the entirety of Eastvale below. The people look like tiny ants crawling through the streets from his viewpoint, and the colorful solstice decorations brighten the buildings and walkways like someone splattered paint all over a picture of the city. It is cold and somewhat windy today, and thick gray clouds loom heavily in the sky, only allowing sparse filtered sunlight through.
It would have been too much to hope that it would be a bright warm day for the Codfather’s first day in the Grimlands. It’s winter, after all. Still, Fwhip taps his fingers against the glass and hopes that Jimmy will be willing to at least take a tour of the castle today so that he can have a less scrutinized moment to talk with him and… and try to reconnect with him. Try to talk properly, really. He’s desperate for communication through a means that isn’t letters or political meetings. He wants to talk to Jimmy. Just Jimmy, not the impressively professional diplomacy of the Codfather.
He passes a little bit of time sitting there, staring out the window and overthinking things. At least until one of the kitchen staff brings in a tray with the midday meal. Fwhip sits down automatically to eat. It only takes him a single bite of the stewed pumpkin and beef to make him realize that he must have been too stressed to eat much of a breakfast this morning.
And the pumpkin is so warm and tasty and perfect for a cold day like today.
He’s nearly done with the meal when Holly knocks and lets herself in. Fwhip sets down his utensils, nerves consuming him again.
“How are they doing?” Fwhip asks, pinching at the edge of the tray.
“They’re settling just fine,” Holly says. “The rooms were prepared with all their ambassadors’ recommendations. And, in my own opinion, I do think that the fireplaces will keep them warm enough. They’ve been shown how to use the warming pans and the staff have extra wood stocked and ready. The Codfather’s aides have assured us that the delegation will be comfortable during their stay.”
Fwhip relaxes in his chair. “What are they like? His aides and… his people?”
Holly hums in consideration. “They seem to be taking everything in. Polite, not very talkative, but that’s probably due to the language barrier. They have translators as well, though. It’s a few more people than we were expecting, but we were prepared for that possibility, so it’s not a problem. Thirty six in all, not including the Codfather himself.”
Fwhip nods slowly. He’s still not sure what’s going to happen as far as the rest of the delegation is concerned. Jimmy has been such a main focus that he needs to actively remind himself that he needs to put in the work with his people as well. But he’s sure he’ll have a chance to get to know some of Jimmy’s people on this visit. Maybe. There is, however, the issue that he’s nervous about speaking the Cod language to anyone who’s not Jimmy because he knows his pronunciation and grammar are terrible.
Maybe he’ll just stick around Jimmy and hope his good intentions come across to whoever else happens to be nearby.
“You should maybe try to get some rest—” Holly starts, but Fwhip shakes his head.
“I want to be ready in case he needs anything,” he says, getting up from the table. Mmm, that was a wonderful meal, and now he’s reinvigorated for the solstice events. Sure this whole thing is scary, but he can’t spend the whole day hiding in a room when Jimmy is here.
Holly sighs. “Count Fwhip, I understand that you—”
“I just want him to have a good time while he’s here,” Fwhip says. “Anything I have to do for him— uh. I mean. For the delegation, I mean.” He quickly looks away to avoid seeing the very weary expression on Holly’s face.
“Fwhip… please, for the love of the Void, contain your feelings for the time being,” she says. “I know that your situation regarding the Codfather is… complicated, but you have to think about the Grimlands first. Now is not the time for you to be making any bold or emotion-driven moves with the ruler of the Cod Empire. For the sake of your land and his… please.”
“I’ll behave,” Fwhip says. “I promise. I just… I’ve missed him. And… he’s so cute.” He flops into a chair and pouts. “He looked so good when he came in— I want to see him again.”
“You’ll have plenty of chances,” Holly assures him. “But be patient, please.”