Chapter Text
As Pandora's mediator, Saps was intimately familiar with the capital buildings of the different nations. He had been invited to discuss diplomatic relations inside these halls more times than he could count on his fingers, each meeting blending into the next in a haze of formal negotiations and carefully worded agreements.
Today, however, found him in Tricolour's palace, and something about this visit felt different.
He was seated in Queen Jophiel's private dining area, a space clearly reserved for more intimate gatherings. The table before him was set with meticulous elegance, several towers of delicate dishes displaying an array of biscuits and other sweet treats. The porcelain gleamed under the warm light, and the arrangement of fresh flowers at the center filled the room with a subtle, pleasant fragrance.
A servant approached with quiet footsteps and poured him a glass of wine, the deep red liquid catching the light as it filled the crystal goblet.
With a respectful bow, the servant spoke. "Sir Saparata, Queen Jophiel will be with you momentarily."
Not used to such formal pleasantries, Saps simply nodded. "Thank you."
The servant exited the room with the same quiet grace, leaving Saps alone with his thoughts and an impressive amount of food.
He sat awkwardly for a moment, then let out a small breath and relaxed into his chair. The private setting was unusual. Normally, these meetings took place in formal conference rooms, with advisors hovering in the background and scribes recording every word. Here, there were no extra chairs, no notepads, no visible preparations for official business.
Just food. Just wine. Just him.
Saps reached for a small biscuit, then hesitated. Should he wait? Was it rude to eat before the host arrived? He glanced at the empty doorway, then back at the biscuit.
He took it. He was hungry, and they looked too good to ignore.
The biscuit melted on his tongue, buttery and sweet, and he had to resist the urge to grab a handful. He settled for sipping his wine instead, letting his gaze wander around the room.
The dining area opened onto a small balcony, and through the arched doorway he could see the Tricolour skyline stretching into the distance. The capital was beautiful this time of day, with the afternoon sun painting the buildings in warm golds and soft oranges.
He was so lost in the view that he didn't hear the footsteps until they were almost upon him.
"My apologies for the delay."
Saps turned quickly, nearly sloshing wine over the rim of his glass. Queen Jophiel entered, regal as always, her presence filling the room despite her gentle smile. Today she wore deep blues and lemon yellows, colors that complemented her eyes and made her look every bit the monarch she was.
But there was something different about her today. Something softer in her expression, more personal.
Saps stood immediately, setting down his glass.
"Your Majesty. No apology needed. I was just admiring the view."
Jophiel waved a hand as she crossed the room to her seat.
"Please, sit. And none of that 'Your Majesty' nonsense here." She settled into the chair across from him with a grace that seemed effortless. "It's just us today."
Saps blinked, lowering himself back into his seat. "Just us?"
Jophiel smiled, reaching for a biscuit of her own.
"You've been mediating between our nations for a while now, Saps. I think we know each other well enough to drop the formalities for one afternoon." She bit into the biscuit with a satisfied hum. "Besides, I wanted to talk to you away from all the advisors and scribes. Official channels make things unnecessarily complicated."
Saps wasn't sure what to make of this, but he nodded along. "I appreciate that. It's... nice. Different, but nice."
"I'm glad you think so." Jophiel studied him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "How have you been?"
The question caught him off guard. He opened his mouth to give the usual response, the practiced one about being well and honored to serve, but something in her eyes made him pause.
"I've been working on a few renovations in the acropolis," he answered, reaching for his wine glass. "I'm planning to add a second floor, but nothing too fancy. Maybe a proper study and some guest rooms for when people want to stay over."
Jophiel smiled, genuinely interested. "And how has that gone for you?"
Saps rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "As well as you'd expect. I'm not really much of a builder. I hit my thumb with a hammer a few times." He flexed his fingers as if the memory still stung.
"Surely you're not working on this project by yourself?" Jophiel's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Tricolour has several builders who would be more than happy to aid you. I could arrange for a few to visit the acropolis, if you'd like."
Saps flushed deeper, waving his hands in polite refusal. "Oh, it's fine! Flux and some of our friends from Luminara are helping out. We've made decent progress in the planning, all things considered."
At the mention of Flux, Jophiel perked up. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, a curious and mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. She nibbled on another biscuit with deliberate slowness, watching Saps over the rim of her glass.
"Flux, I see," she said, her voice taking on a playful lilt. "A little bird told me that you have something to share about the two of you."
Saps's face went from mildly flushed to fully pink in the span of a heartbeat. The color spread to his ears, then down his neck, and Jophiel couldn't suppress a warm chuckle at how transparent he was.
"Uh, well," Saps trailed off, suddenly finding the pattern on his wine glass fascinating. He traced the rim with his finger, clearly searching for words. "You could say that we're… courting, in Tricolour's terms."
Jophiel set down her biscuit, her smile widening into something genuinely delighted. "Courting. That's a significant word."
Saps risked a glance up at her. "Is that... I mean, is that strange to hear? Me, courting someone?"
Jophiel's eyes widened, and she immediately leaned forward, gently grasping Saps's hand across the table.
"Oh, Ish, no," she said, her voice soft with reassurance. "I'm very happy for you. Truly."
Saps studied her expression carefully, searching for any hint of judgment or insincerity. He found none. Her gaze was warm and soft, her smile reaching her eyes in a way that spoke of genuine delight. The tight knot of anxiety in his chest loosened slightly.
"I do hope that he is treating you well," Jophiel commented, her thumb brushing gently across his knuckles.
"I don't know Fluixon very well outside of diplomatic meetings. He can be quite brash, and his negotiating style is... aggressive, to say the least." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "But if you and 3BelowZero hold him in such high regard, I may be inclined to change my opinion."
Saps slowly withdrew his hand from Jophiel's grasp, not out of discomfort but simply to collect his thoughts. He clasped his palms together on top of the table, fingers interlacing as he considered how to articulate what Flux meant to him.
He cleared his throat before speaking.
"Flux can be a little unpredictable," he began, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "He's intense, and he doesn't always think before he speaks, but he takes very good care of me. He notices things. Small things. When I'm tired, when I haven't eaten, when something is weighing on my mind."
Saps looked up at Jophiel, his expression open and sincere. "He may not express himself the way others do, but he shows me every day that I matter to him. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Jophiel listened quietly, her expression shifting from curiosity to something warmer, more understanding. When Saps finished, she nodded slowly.
“I’d like to meet him someday,” she said.
Saps nodded, already looking forward to it. He was about to suggest a specific date when he noticed Jophiel's expression shift. Something flickered behind her eyes, a hesitation that hadn't been there moments before.
"What is it?" he asked.
Jophiel set down her glass, her fingers tracing the rim thoughtfully.
"I didn't want to bring this up. Today was supposed to be just us." She sighed. "But since you're here, and since you're one of my closest friends, I should tell you now rather than later."
Saps straightened in his chair, his mediator instincts kicking in. "What happened?"
"Nothing has happened yet. But something is going to happen, assuming I agree to it." Jophiel met his eyes, her gaze steady but soft. "I've received a formal communication from Yggdrasil. From Emperor Schpood of Westhelm."
Saps blinked. "Emperor Schpood? I've heard the name, but I don't know much about him. I’ve heard Westhelm keeps to itself mostly."
"They do, which is why this is significant." Jophiel paused, choosing her words carefully. "The emperor is seeking to strengthen ties between Yggdrasil and Pandora. He believes that a formal union between our realms would benefit both sides. Trade, military alliances, cultural exchange. The usual diplomatic benefits."
Saps nodded slowly, following along. "That makes sense. A union between the islands is a powerful statement."
"It is." Jophiel took a breath. "Which is why he has proposed an arranged marriage. Between himself and the ruler of Tricolour."
The words hung in the air between them.
Saps's eyes widened. "Between himself and... Jophiel, that's you."
"Yes." Jophiel's voice was calm, but Saps could see the faint tension in her shoulders. "Emperor Schpood has proposed marriage. To me."
Saps stared at her, utterly speechless.
Jophiel's expression softened.
"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the kind of news I should be dropping during a friendly meal. You came here to relax, to talk about your life, and I'm sitting here telling you about a marriage proposal." She reached across the table and touched his hand briefly. "Forget I said anything for now. We can discuss it another time."
But Saps shook his head, finding his voice. "No. No, I want to hear more."
Jophiel studied him carefully. "Are you sure? This is a lot to process."
"I'm sure." Saps leaned forward, his mediator's mind already working. "Emperor Schpood. Westhelm. He wants to unite Yggdrasil and Pandora through marriage to you. That's... that's enormous."
"It is."
"And you're considering it?"
Jophiel was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded slowly.
"I am. Not lightly, and not without questions. But yes, I'm considering it."
Saps absorbed this, his thoughts churning. An arranged marriage. To an emperor. For his closest friend and ally. It was the kind of proposal that would change everything, not just for Jophiel, but for all of Tricolour and Pandora.
"You're sure about this?" he asked. "You're sure he's sincere and not playing some political game?"
Jophiel nodded.
"I've had my people investigate. The emperor has a reputation for honesty, if not always for tact. He's direct. Blunt, even. But he doesn't play games."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "His letters are... surprisingly charming, actually. He writes about his beloved colosseum. His love of duels. The way the light hits the mountains at dawn in Westhelm." She paused. "I believe he's sincere. I also believe this could be genuinely good for both our islands."
Saps was quiet for a moment, watching his friend's face. Beneath the calm exterior, he could see something else. Nervousness, perhaps. Or hope.
"How do you feel about it?" he asked gently. "Not as a queen. As Jophiel."
Jophiel's composure cracked, just slightly. She looked down at her hands, then back up at him.
"I'm... curious. I'll admit that. He seems like someone I could respect. Someone I could even come to care for, given time." She let out a small breath. "And I'm tired, Saps. Tired of doing everything alone. The thought of having someone beside me... it's appealing."
Saps reached across the table and took her hand. "Then you should do it. If it feels right, if you think there's something there, you should say yes."
Jophiel looked at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. "You think so?"
"I think you deserve happiness." Saps squeezed her hand. "I think you've spent your whole life putting Tricolour, Pandora, and everyone else first. If there's a chance for you to have something for yourself, something real, you should take it."
Jophiel's eyes glistened. "Thank you, Saps. That means more than you know."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, hands still clasped across the table. Then Saps spoke again, a grin spreading across his face.
"So. Emperor Schpood. What else do you know about him? I'm going to need details if I'm going to help you plan a royal wedding."
Jophiel laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "A royal wedding? Is that what we're calling it?"
"That's exactly what we're calling it. Does he have a sense of humor? What's his favorite color?"
Jophiel laughed again, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
"His favorite color is gold, apparently. He mentioned it in his third letter. Said it reminded him of the sky over the mountains."
Saps grinned. "Gold. Good choice. I approve."
"You approve of his color preferences?"
"It's the first step. Next we'll move on to his intentions, his character, and whether he's worthy of my best friend."
Jophiel shook her head fondly. "You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculously supportive, yes."
They shared a warm smile, the weight of the news settling into something manageable, even exciting. Outside, the afternoon sun continued its slow descent, painting the capital in shades of gold and amber.
Saps reached for his wine glass. "To unexpected things?"
Jophiel raised hers with a genuine smile. "To unexpected things. And to whatever comes next."
In the weeks that followed, the news spread through the palace like wildfire. Queen Jophiel of Tricolour was to marry Emperor Schpood of Westhelm. The union would unite Pandora and Yggdrasil in ways never before imagined.
Saps found himself at the palace often during those weeks, not as a mediator, but as a friend. He sat with Jophiel while she reviewed letters from her betrothed, laughing at the emperor's awkward attempts at romantic prose. He helped her sort through fabric samples for her wedding gown, offering opinions on colors and textures with absolutely no expertise but plenty of enthusiasm. He listened while she voiced her fears and her hopes, her excitement and her nervousness, and he held her hand through all of it.
It was during one of these visits, with wedding preparations spread across every surface of Jophiel's private study, that she turned to him with a knowing smile.
"You've been wonderful through all of this, you know."
Saps looked up from a stack of seating charts he had been attempting to organize. "That's what friends are for."
"Still." Jophiel set down her quill and gave him her full attention. "I know this hasn't been the break you were hoping for. You came to Tricolour for a quiet meal, and instead you've been dragged into wedding planning."
Saps shrugged, smiling. "I don't mind. Really. It's been nice being here for you."
Jophiel's expression softened. "Thank you. Truly. Your support has meant more to me than I can say."
She reached across the cluttered table and squeezed his hand, then leaned back in her chair with a thoughtful look.
"You know, all this talk of marriage has me thinking."
Saps raised an eyebrow. "About?"
"About you." Jophiel's smile turned teasing. "About you and a certain someone who's been helping you renovate that acropolis of yours."
Saps felt heat rush to his cheeks. "Flux?"
"The very same."
Jophiel propped her chin on her hand, clearly enjoying herself.
"You've been together for a while now. You clearly adore each other." She tilted her head. "Have you thought about it? Marriage, I mean."
Saps sputtered. "I— we— that's—"
"That's what?"
"That's a very personal question!"
Jophiel laughed, bright and unrepentant.
"We're friends. Personal questions are allowed." She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "Come on, Saps. Indulge me. I'm getting married. I'm allowed to be curious about everyone else's romantic futures."
Saps buried his face in his hands, but he was laughing too. "You're impossible."
"I'm a queen. Same thing."
He groaned, but when he lowered his hands, his expression had softened.
"We haven't talked about it, really. Not seriously. It's still relatively new, and with my work and his work, we're both just... enjoying what we have."
Jophiel nodded, genuinely interested. "That makes sense. There's no rush."
"No." Saps smiled, thinking of Flux. "But I won't pretend I haven't thought about it. In quiet moments. When it's just us."
"And?"
"And... I think I'd like that. Someday." He looked at Jophiel, his smile widening. "When the time is right."
Jophiel clasped her hands together, delighted. "Oh, that's wonderful. I'm so happy for you both."
Saps laughed at her enthusiasm. "You're more excited about this than I am."
"Probably true. I live vicariously through my friends now." She waved a hand dramatically. "I'm a soon-to-be-married woman. I have opinions about romance."
"Clearly."
They shared a laugh, the warmth of friendship filling the room. Then Jophiel's expression turned thoughtful again.
"You know, if you ever do decide to make it official, I expect an invitation. Front row seat. Best friend privileges."
Saps grinned. "Obviously. You'll be the first to know."
"Good." Jophiel picked up her quill again, but paused. "And Saps? Whatever you decide, whenever you decide it, I'll be here. Cheering for you both."
Saps felt something warm bloom in his chest. "Thank you, Jophiel. That means everything."
She smiled, soft and genuine. "That's what friends are for."
Saps cursed himself internally for choosing to build their home atop a hill. He trudged up the stairs, every bone in his body aching with the particular exhaustion that came from spending an entire day mediating arguments between royal advisors. With only a month before Jophiel's wedding, he was busier than ever—and surely hadn't expected to spend three hours arbitrating the great peony debate.
("They're too informal for a royal wedding. This isn't a garden party."
"Peonies are classic! Elegant! The queen herself approved them!"
"The queen approved them before consulting the protocol advisors, which is precisely the problem.")
Saps rubbed his temples at the memory. He still didn't know who had won that argument. He eventually excused himself on the grounds of "needing to review the seating charts" just to escape.
He let out a relieved sigh when the main room of the acropolis came into view, moonlight spilling in the hall. Saps walked in silently, too tired for even a proper greeting. He was about to collapse onto the nearest chair when he heard it.
A soft simmering sound coming from the kitchen.
Saps paused, listening. Then he smelled it, something savory, warm, inviting. His stomach, which had been surviving on nothing but tea and biscuits all day, growled in response.
He rounded the corner quietly and stopped.
Flux stood at the stove, his back to the entrance. He was completely engrossed in whatever he was cooking, one hand holding a wooden spoon while the other hovered nearby as if ready to adjust something at a moment's notice. He'd roll the spoon slowly through the pot, then lift it to examine the liquid, then add a pinch of something from a small dish beside him.
The kitchen was a mess. Not disastrous, but clearly the site of effort. Vegetable peelings spread on the counter, some flour dusted on the bread board, several spoons and utensils were strewn about. A loaf of bread sat cooling on a rack, its top slightly darker in one corner than the others.
Saps leaned against the door frame, a smile tugging at his tired face. He watched Flux work, noting the slight furrow of concentration between his brows, the way he'd mutter something to himself and then shake his head, the careful precision with which he stirred.
This was the man Saps had asked to move in with him. The man who had looked at him like he'd grown a second head, then said "You want me to live with you?" in a voice so incredulous Saps had almost laughed. The man who had shown up a week later with two bags and a carefully neutral expression, as if he wasn't absolutely terrified of the whole thing.
Who now stood here, in their kitchen, making dinner.
For him.
Saps's heart did something complicated in his chest.
He must have made a sound—a sigh, maybe, or just the creak of the floor—because Flux's head snapped up. He turned, wooden spoon still in hand, and for a moment they just looked at each other.
"You're back." Flux's voice was carefully casual, but Saps could see the slight tension in his shoulders. The way he was watching for a reaction.
"I'm back." Saps pushed off the door frame and crossed to the stove, peering into the pot. Stew, by the look of it. Rich broth, chunks of vegetables and meat swimming together. It smelled incredible. "You made dinner."
Flux shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. "Thought you might be hungry. Figured I'd try my hand at something new."
Saps raised an eyebrow.
"Don't look at me like that." Flux's ears went slightly pink. "I'll have you know I followed a recipe. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"There may have been some creative liberties." Flux gestured vaguely at the pot with his spoon. "The recipe said 'a pinch of thyme.' I don't know what a pinch looks like. I'm not a chef."
Saps bit back a laugh. "So what did you use?"
"A... generous interpretation of 'pinch.'"
"A generous interpretation."
"Yes."
Saps laughed, bright and warm in the quiet kitchen. Flux's expression shifted from defensive to something softer, almost pleased at the sound.
"It's going to be terrible, isn't it?" Flux asked, but there was no real worry in his voice.
"Probably." Saps grinned. "But I'm going to eat every bite."
"That's not the encouragement you think it is."
"It's the best encouragement you're getting." Saps bumped his shoulder against Flux's.
Flux shook his head, but he was smiling. "Sit down before you fall down. You look exhausted."
Saps didn't argue. He sank into his usual chair at the small table and watched as Flux ladled stew into bowls, sliced the slightly-uneven bread, and arranged everything with the kind of focus most people reserved for important documents.
Flux set a bowl in front of him, along with a thick slice of bread. "There. Dinner is served. Apologies in advance for any culinary crimes I may have committed."
Saps picked up his spoon, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully.
Flux watched him with barely concealed anticipation. "Well?"
Saps swallowed. Took another bite. "You know what?"
"What?"
"It's not terrible."
Flux's eyebrows shot up. "Not terrible?"
"I've had worse." Saps took another bite, hiding his smile behind his spoon.
"That's your review? 'Not terrible, I’ve had worse?’"
"It's a compliment coming from me."
Flux stared at him for a moment.
"You're unbelievable."
"I'm hungry. There's a difference." Saps gestured at the chair across from him. "Sit. Eat. Keep me company."
Flux sat, picking up his own spoon. He took a bite, chewed, and made a face.
"It's under-seasoned."
"It's not."
"It absolutely is. I can taste the lack of salt."
Saps grinned. "Good. Now you know how I feel every time I read your reports."
Flux pointed his spoon at him. "My reports are perfectly seasoned with facts and logic."
"Sounds bland."
"You're bland."
"You're the one who said yes when I asked you to move in."
Flux opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head with a reluctant smile. "I walked into that one."
"You really did."
Saps reached across the table and stole a piece of bread from Flux's plate. Flux let him.
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds were the clink of spoons and the soft crackle of the lanterns. Saps felt the tension of the day slowly seeping out of his bones.
"So," Flux said eventually, "how's the wedding preparations?"
Saps groaned. "Don't get me started."
"It can't be that bad."
"You'd be surprised."
Saps set down his spoon, launching into an exaggerated recap of the day's chaos. He acted out the advisors' voices, their dramatic gestures, the moment one of them had actually stamped their foot in frustration. Flux listened with an amused expression, occasionally interjecting with dry comments that made Saps laugh.
By the time they finished eating, Saps felt lighter than he had all day.
He helped Flux clear the table, their movements easy and familiar as they worked around each other in the small kitchen. When the last dish was washed and put away, they stood together in the quiet space, the day's chaos finally fading.
"Thank you," Saps said softly.
Flux shrugged, but there was warmth in his eyes. "It's just dinner."
"It's not just dinner." Saps stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Flux's waist and rested his chin on Flux’s shoulder. "I needed this."
Flux's arms came up around him, holding him close. "You work too hard."
"Someone has to mediate the peony crisis."
Flux snorted. "Next time, tell them to flip a coin."
"And miss all the drama?" Saps pulled back just enough to look at him. "Where's the fun in that?"
"Your definition of fun needs work."
"My definition of fun is currently standing in our kitchen, covered in flour, eating questionable stew."
Flux looked down at himself. There was indeed a smudge of flour on his sleeve. He hadn't noticed it before.
"I'm not covered in flour."
"You have flour on your face too."
Flux reached up, found nothing. "You're lying."
Saps grinned. "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know."
They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Then Flux's lips twitched.
"What?" Saps asked.
"Nothing." Flux's voice was too innocent. "Just thinking about how you're going to taste that stew again tomorrow when I reheat the leftovers."
Saps's face fell. "Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"I take back every nice thing I said."
"It's too late. The leftovers are already in the container."
Saps groaned, dropping his head back onto Flux's shoulder. "This is betrayal."
"This is dinner."
"You're the worst."
"You're the one who asked me to move in."
Saps laughed against his shirt. "I really did, didn't I?"
"Really did." Flux pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Bed?"
Saps nodded. "Bed."
They changed in comfortable silence, the familiar rhythm of their evening routine settling around them like a warm blanket. When they finally climbed into bed, Saps immediately curled against Flux's side, his head finding its usual spot on Flux's shoulder.
Flux's arm wrapped around him, pulling him closer.
"Flux?" Saps's voice was soft, already heavy with sleep.
"Mm?"
Saps smiled against his skin. "Goodnight, Flux."
Flux's arm tightened around him. "Goodnight, Saps."
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees. Inside, two people held each other, warm and safe and home.