Christmas loses its worth when you lose the one it was worth waiting for

Memories lost resurface as a Christmas miracle

Scott rose from his peaceful slumber to the sound of carols reverberating throughout his empire. It sickened him. His house was undecorated and the streets were baron of garments save the village houses. He didn't understand what was so perfect and exciting about Christmas. It was just like any other day, except you get presents. The religious aspect had been lost long before he was king, possibly when he was a feeble prince working out the world, figuring out its secrets and systems. It was just commercial now. The children seemed so content with how they were showered in gifts for nothing but a holiday. He supposes you could say that for any event or birthday where gifts were involved but it wasn't the point. The focus was, Christmas was pointless, he hadn't celebrated since his mum passed eons ago. It was just an attempt to show of wealth and mock those with lack thereof.

The elven ruler walked the streets with a reserved envy. People looked so content, the usual complaints about unfair trades or laughing at those who could hardly make a living were void, in their place a joyous chatter and charitable outlook. It confused him how just one day, a single 24 hours, could have this affect on people. It was as if no one was unequal, no one inferior or better off, it was just equality. Now Scott liked to see it, but it made him turn his head at the thought it was all a show. A faux performance just so you looked deserving of anything you accept that day, a time that should be as much of receiving as giving yet all he saw was praise. Those people who he could see right through, read their every intention, as if they were glass, a window to secrets, or a book, the villain just introduced, unbeknownst to the reader. Fae were known for being cold, but he was ice, unforgiving and unable to enjoy the holidays.

"Son, Christmas isn't important, ruling the empire is. This holiday is a waste of money and my precious time." a sad child held his head in dismay. His only parent, his light, his guidance, had crushed his dreams and hopes. All year he had wished for the same thing, his mother and a lover. Yet his father was uncaring. He was cold and oh so spiteful. It had hurt them both when she left, yet it seemed to build walls, between them and around them. The child no longer socialized, no longer cared for others feelings the way he used to.

The magic faded 

The annual feast was today, all empires' rulers attending to chat and celebrate together. Scott didn't want to go, pleaded his advisors to cancel his transport or someone go in his place but they refused. They all agreed it would do him good, reignite a spark. A spark? He thought they were mad. He had lost his light, his rhythm for Christmas, or anyone and anything, long ago. He walked in the dark, trudged through the cold, finding his way through estimates and knowledge alone, he didn't need a cheesy; frankly pathetic holiday to make him feel something. He was numb to all that by now, yet people still tried to reverse damage that was dealt too many years ago to be repaired by a single day, a single moment. 

"What have I said! You will wear the crown, not your brother! He has moved on to do better and bigger things, unlike your petty self who has stuck like glue to this house!" tears ran down a pale face, cyan hair askew as he ran from the confines of the house he used to home. It was true, Xornoth had gone to fight in the army, be a hero, move away and inevitably start a family, yet here he was, alone and pitiful, doomed to wear something he could never. Yet the child had but little choice, stuck to obey his fathers every order, be a royal, live the drab and snub life his parent lived currently. 

The emperor of Rivendell sat in his chair, beside him, the Codfather and Queen of the overgrown. He didn't know anyone's real names, never asking, always sticking to the strict formalities he knew, the only greetings and way of words he was taught. It seemed to be the talk of every town, the bitter elf nothing but a mistake forced into high power. That didn't seem to be the same for his fellow emperor's and empresses. They saw him as extremely well placed; an excellent ruler of a prestigious empire. Yet he felt out of place mind the kind words. He never talked, always sat and listened. He never enjoyed the event, it was always the same, dinner, chat, festivities, home. It wasn't as if he was special to anyone here, anyone special to him.

Blonde hair and soft laughter. The swamp was warm for winter but he couldn't care. Brown eye's stared into his as they shared a chaste peck under the mistletoe, a decoration for the community tree the empire had. It was tucked in a corner, far from prying eyes and a special place for the two princes to meet. They had done it since they met a few years back, an instant bond unable to be broken by time. Yet it was tested, the cyanette appearing less and less, appreciating the solitude of the mountains, quiet suffering where no one would hear his screams, his cries as he lost all hope for salvation. A small boy pushed into a life of conference; imprisoned into responsibility.

The festivities spanned for hours. They were long and tedious. Every so often, a hazy memory of fair hair or a bright smiles would rip him from reality. The touches were soft and loving, ones he hadn't felt since his reign began. It reminded him of the Codfather, a beacon for fun and someone he had always admired. The man knew how to keep everything in order whilst allowing some form of fun, he only had strict rules and agitated sighs. Maybe he could befriend the man, he had yet to have an ally, needing one with the suspected war brewing between the Grimlands and Ocean empire. It was something he was reserved to be apart of, but he didn't need anymore shade thrown on him than he already had; there was no way he was teaming with count fWhip, Emperor Sausage and the King of the lost empire, no chance.

"Solidarity."

"Scott! How are you."

"I'm fine. Yourself?"

"Good yeah, it's nice you're here, I hardly see you anymore." the usual 'dude' left unsaid as an already blank expression concerned the blonde.

"Anymore? I wasn't aware we used to meet at all."

"All the time! You used to break down and stay with me for hours." It sounded viable, his childhood wasn't exactly without its traumas, being endlessly....brainwashed.

"It hurts, dad please!" a small voice cried, hoarse from screaming, "Oh do be quiet, you can't be prancing around with that swamp prince, he's but a distraction we must get rid of." the spell continued to extract everything he knew about the blonde, about all his friends, the next generations of each empire. He lost it all, a prince left with nothing but sadness and the desire to rule efficiently, not well, a wound that would never be repaired.

"Jimmy." he breathed. Scott remembered everything. The nights he would sleep in the comfort of the Codfathers arms, his friendships and rivalries. How he watched the empires break apart as he faded. It was like he was an adhesive, stuck to his home because he was the bond of their spirits, their cheer. "Hi Scott." the other whispered, soft, for his ears alone. For the first time in years, Scott smiled, genuine and happy, nothing fake or stifled about it. It made Jimmy's heart soar, seeing his best friend merry. 

The Codfather was done waiting, done anticipating a chance to repeat that faitful kiss all those years ago, when they were simple princes unsure what their future would be. So he took the cyanette's face in his hands, a soft caress that a touch-starved Scott eagerly pushed into. Jimmy placed a short kiss on the latter's lips, wondering if he wanted this. But Scott recalled the event from all those years ago, on Christmas day when he wanted to escape the questions and fancy cutlery. He initiated a second kiss, this one longer and overflowing with a repressed and forgotten love that sparked something in the fae.

The holiday wasn't a waste of time nor money. It was an opportunity for change, one day people could actually do something nice and be proud of it, even those as vain as the rich. It was something he wouldn't have recognised without Jimmy.

Years later, two husbands sat in their shared living room, in their shared house, within their co-run empire. A cyan haired elf had insisted they spend Christmas in his empire, watching their two kids, one girl, one boy, watch the fire with a worrying intent as they sang traditional elven carols. It wasn't what you would expect, two hybrids, worlds and lives apart joined to create a family so mismatched is was perfect. Christmas was always a time of joy for the Cod, one of envy and isolation for the elf, yet together they broke those boundaries, it took work, it took patience, yet the result was a family and positive outlook. 

Scott could finally say, "Sorry father, but you were wrong, Christmas is worth my time, is worth my money. Jimmy isn't a distraction, he is a help." He could finally feel as if he was in control of his own life. 

He could finally, after years of turmoil and loss, say he was happy.

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Flower husbands Christmas special!