Chapter Text
It’s a cold winter morning, a few weeks after the princes’ nineteenth birthday. All of Rivendell had celebrated the birthday with them. All of Rivendell, bar, of course, their parents. The solstice is fast approaching, and the brothers have been spending their days playing cards with Scott’s guards and lazing about in Rivendell’s bath house.
It brings them here, hair still damp, in front of the Empress and her Consort.
Scott bows before his parents as he enters the room, barely managing to suppress the hand that wants to reach up and fix his hair further. There’s still some purple hair clinging to him from where he’d fixed Xornoth’s hair in the hallway. He knows his mother will be mad at him for it.
Next to him, Xornoth also dips into a bow. They’re angry, of course, as they always are, and Scott prays to Aeor that his brother’s anger won’t boil over today. The punishments have never been kind.
The Empress motions for them to sit down with a sweeping gesture, and the twins take their seats in tandem. Besides her, their father looks pale in a way Scott knows cannot be attributed to the weather or his age. He can’t remember the last time he heard his father speak.
“You have been called here today to discuss certain… uncomfortable truths about your lives,” the Empress starts. Scott only barely manages to resist shooting a look at Xornoth, though he knows the crown prince does not show the same restraint if the look their mother shoots them is anything to go by.
“Your tutors have assured that you have been told of our history. Though they confessed that it was by way of myth,” the Empress continues, “Understand that no myths are involved; Aeor and Exor were real, as were their champions.”
“What-“ it’s the only word Xornoth gets out before the Empress reacts. Scott sees the slap coming a mile away, which has never served to make it sting any less. His hand doesn’t shoot up to cradle his wounded cheek as he snaps his gaze back down to the table. Beside him, Xornoth recoils.
“Alban,” the Empress hisses out, power seeping into her voice, “be quiet.” Scott hears Xornoth’s mouth snap shut as the command settles into their bones.
“You will pledge yourselves to your gods accordingly, and you will fight the fight that founded Rivendell. As it is written, so it shall be.” The Empress states. “You are dismissed.”
The princes tumble out of the room together, and Scott watches as their mother’s command on Xornoth wears off.
“How dare she-“ Xornoth starts before Scott cuts them off.
“Not here, Xornoth. We can’t talk about it here,” Scott glances around, but there are luckily no staff members near them.
“But we can’t-“ Xornoth starts.
“You’re right, we can’t,” Scott says, “and we won’t. But we can’t talk about that here.”
He turns then to look at Xornoth, who’s been staring at Scott this entire time. He softens for a moment as he throws his arms around Xornoth’s shoulders, tackling them into an awkwardly one-sided hug.
“We won’t, Xor. I promise,” it settles into the air when Scott says it, and he feels the promise wrap itself around his heart.
“We should-“
“I know a place,” Scott says at the same time, and he grabs his brother’s hand as they start towards the stables.
Etho readies two horses for them without question, and nods at his instructions not to tell Cleo anything other than that the princes are safe. Bdubs chatters away as the princes wait for their horses, excited about the day he’s had. He’s right in the middle of a meandering story about Kenna, who’d retired into the stables after last winter, when Etho clears his throat.
The twins take the reins gratefully, and Etho sees them off with a lame wave.
They lead the horses through Rivendell, walking beside them. Scott catches Xornoth trying to get his attention a few times, but he just shakes his head at them. There is no safe place in Rivendell to discuss any of this, let alone in a way that would go against the Empress’ wishes.
After they pass through the city’s main gate, the one that goes North, hey mount their horses. Xornoth asks one more time where they’re going, and this time Scott feels that he can answer.
“We’re going to a tavern,” he explains, and he laughs a little at the face Xornoth pulls. “I know the owner, we can talk in private there,”
“Why not just ride into the woods?” Xornoth asks with a motion to the terrain around them.
“Because I would like to be warm and have some mead while we discuss this,” Scott explains, and Xornoth makes a noise of agreement before spurring their horse on to follow Scott.
Scott stables their horses in Pas Rìoghal with a practiced ease, which only makes Xornoth more nervous about the town they’ve found themselves in. It really is beautiful without a brewing snowstorm looming overhead, and Scott takes a moment to stare out over the Northern Plains.
“I’ll go back there someday,” Scott says with barely a glance to the side, “and I’ll go as myself without being in danger.”
“Why do you want to go North so bad?” Xornoth asks as they also look out over the barren landscape, “it’s nothing but snowy plains until the border, not to mention the fact that you almost died there.”
“It’s not that bad,” Scott laughed, “I’d like to show you one day.”
“If we survive this, I’ll come with you,” Xornoth says.
“When,” Scott says, “when we survive this, we’re going North. We’ll go all the way up to the border and then some, and we’ll live off deer and birds up in the mountains for a bit.”
“That sounds terrible,” Xornoth says, and Scott shoves them a little.
“It’ll make us more grateful for home,” Scott jokes, and Xornoth rolls their eyes with a fond grin.
“Sweetface!” Keralis exclaims as the princes enter, and Scott laughs as the bartender comes over to hug him tightly, “I thought you’d never come back, all holed up in your fancy castle.”
“Of course I’m back!” Scott says in return, “Couldn’t go without such a handsome face for too long.”
Keralis laughs as he leads the princes over to the bar. It’s a pretty average night, and Scott mostly sees regulars from the town sprinkled around here and there. He takes a glance at the other side of the bar but doesn’t see Falsie.
“She’s in Crystal Cliffs,” Keralis explains when he sees where Scott is looking, “won’t be back for another month. I’ve been very lonely,” he bats his eyelashes at Scott a little. He glances from Scott to Xornoth a few times before he lights up.
“And you must be sweetface’s brother!” he exclaims, and Scott shushes him a little.
“I am,” Xornoth says timidly, “nice to meet you.”
“Keralis,” Scott cuts in, “do you have anywhere for my brother and I to talk privately?”
They spend the night at Keralis’, twin beds shoved against opposite sides of the room like when they were children, with their minds filled with a mutual agreement to say no. Cycles have a beginning, so they must also have an end.