Chapter Text
Pixandria was known for its objective look to the future. They turned to the past to understand it and used it to pave their path for the future, more than other empires in this part of the world. Though they had been blessed with moderate temperatures for the desert, danger awaited. As foretold by the Copper King, their nation would see unprecedented turmoil and hardship. Unity and cooperation across borders would be necessary to ensure Pixandria made it through this coming crisis. As such, the Copper King turned his gaze to their neighbors and officially opened the door to a potential alliance.
The Cod Empire and Mythland bordered Pixandria. To Pix, a junior Vigil Keeper and the youngest at the time, both seemed viable choices for allies. Both were members of major alliances who would be able to help Pixandria in times of need. In exchange, Pixandria could offer their finest copper and honey at better prices, as well as the services of the High Vigil Keeper as a mediator between the past and the future.
The Copper King traveled with a small entourage. Himself and five Vigil Keepers, who would act as his counsel and translators, traveled eastward. Pix considered himself lucky to have joined this mission. It would teach him valuable lessons, his superiors had told him - far more than the books in the library could ever teach him.
Already, he reaped the benefits of international travel. He couldn’t help but stare at the different types of vegetation he’d only ever read about. The black ash and red maples and large ferns stood in a sea of colors largely dominated by greens and browns, with occasional pops of light blue from the orchids dotted around the landscape. The paths were well-kept and tended to. Though they most often consisted of dirt roads or wooden walkways, it was easy to travel on.
The capital city appeared to be more of a large town than what Pix had come to know as a capital city. Wooden homes, sometimes on stilts, were spread across the swamp where the land rose above the water, and the docks provided ample opportunity for fishermen to earn their living. Atop the highest hill stood the Palace of Cod, home of the Slime Throne, where the Codmother awaited their arrival, as the first of Pixandria’s potential future allies to meet with.
Despite the nerves, Pix held a straight face. None of the Cod would know he was a junior Vigil Keeper. They would not notice that, though their cream-colored robes were similar, Pix’s cyan and orange tippet was shorter than his colleague’s, signifying his status as the youngest. To them, he was another member of the Copper King’s chosen council and he would act as such.
The Codmother had arranged for negotiations to take place in the hall where the Slime Throne stood. The throne, fashioned of polished and treated wood and decorated with the slime that was the Cod Empire’s primary export, remained in the background while both parties took place at a table that Pix guessed would not normally be located there. The Copper King and his Vigil Keepers were seated facing the throne, while the Codmother was seated across from them.
Already, Pix was paying attention, trying to pick up on every little detail. The long table provided enough space for each of the six visiting Pixandrians, while the Codmother sat alone and directly across from where the Copper King sat. Though she wore the Cod Head, a ritualistic wooden mask that resembled a cod head and that the ruler of the Cod Empire always wore, he could almost feel her gaze pierce his soul. She was draped in a beautifully woven shawl with cod motifs, completely dyed in the same blue as the orchids. A green-sleeved dress that accentuated her curves came all the way to the floor, while her dark hair was braided into a crown braid that lay atop her head and had blue orchids woven between strands of hair. She had folded her gloved hands in front of her, waiting patiently.
To her left, directly behind her, stood her translator. Two attendants flanked the throne and watched the negotiations unfold. All three - two women and one young man - had short fishtail braids and wore much simpler outfits. Brown pants and boots, plain green shirts. Simple, yet still proper for the occasion.
Pix wished he paid better attention. At the start, it was easy to keep his gaze on the Copper King and the Codmother while they spoke. The Copper King presented a relaxed posture, with folded hands lying on the table. His tone was warm yet distant, never losing sight of the reasons for being here even while making space for pleasantries. The Codmother, on the other hand, barely moved at all, almost not even moving her head as she spoke, her voice resonant and seemingly echoing through the hall in a way that the Copper King’s did not. Each spoke their native language, with a Vigil Keeper or the translator ready to serve as a second opinion.
Yet his gaze soon drifted to the Cod that flanked the throne. His curiosity about how the attendants behaved would give him more information. The young man couldn’t be much older than Pix was. The brown of his eyes matched with the boots and pants, while his blond hair contrasted nicely with the green of his shirt. He held his hands behind his back and, when Pix looked at him, he caught his gaze.
They held this gaze for a couple of moments. A few moments was all Pix needed to realize that this attendant was rather good-looking and a definitive distraction, and his heart skipped a beat. He even believed he saw the neutrality of the attendant break for just a second, making place for curiosity. He tilted his head ever so slightly, almost trying to analyze Pix.
Pix broke eye contact first, drawing his gaze back to the negotiations. Pay attention, he told himself. The Copper King was outlining the benefits of Pixandrian copper and making suggestions for a fixed price within this potential alliance. Pix knew he had missed more than he would have liked and silently scolded himself for it.
As the conversation progressed, Pix found that he wasn’t quite paying attention, but that he spent more energy trying to tell himself to pay attention to the negotiations instead of the good-looking attendant. Every now and again, his gaze would drift to the attendant again. Without fail, he would find that the attendant was looking at the Codmother. Yet, he knew the curiosity was there. He had seen it within the attendant - or perhaps Pix had projected his own sentiments onto the young man.
Pix almost sighed out loud when a break was called. To step away from the table - to step away from the attendant - was rather necessary. To speak with his fellow Vigil Keepers about where the negotiations were going would help him put his focus back where it ought to be. From his colleagues and the tone he’d heard the Codmother use, what Pixandria offered did not appeal to her in its current form. They used the recess to try to figure out how they could modify their offer to hopefully find common ground with the Codmother. The chance of signing onto an alliance today had become non-existent, but perhaps they could come to more favorable terms that would keep the Cod Empire as a strong contender as a potential ally.
From the corner of his eye, Pix could see the attendant. He turned his head, and the attendant waved at him and motioned for him to get closer. He wasn’t sure if the Copper King or the Vigil Keepers had noticed this.
For a moment, Pix considered his options - even though his heart had already made the decision for him. Pix excused himself from the conversation and walked up to where the attendant waited. The young Cod seemed glad that Pix was coming and motioned for him to follow, just around the corner. Out of sight of the Vigil Keepers and the Copper King.
“Hello,” the attendant said. Pix was surprised to hear him speak in Pixandrian.
Pix bowed his head slightly. “Hello to you too.”
“How were your travels?” the attendant asked. Pix could hear the Thorskan accent shine through in the pronunciation and where he placed the emphasis on the multi-syllable words.
“We safely arrived here without encountering any trouble,” Pix said, speaking a little slower than he normally would. “So I would say our travels were good.”
A smile appeared on the attendant’s face - a smile so infectious and cute that Pix tried not to immediately smile as well.
“That’s good to hear,” he said. He opened his mouth and the smile started to fade. His eyes wandered away from Pix’s face, and Pix guessed the attendant was trying to figure out which words he could use to continue the conversation in Pixandrian. The attendant may not have been as fluent as Pix had first believed him to be.
Still, the interest remained. It takes bravery to try speaking someone else’s native language, in the presence of that person, even if he couldn’t find the words. He wanted to know what else the attendant would wish to talk to him about.
“If you wish to speak further,” Pix said in Thorskan, “perhaps this may be a better language to do that in.”
The attendant looked surprised to hear fluent Thorskan - even if Pix couldn’t quite hide his accent. “Oh, you can…” the attendant began and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’d assumed you couldn’t–”
“All Vigil Keepers learn multiple languages,” Pix explained. It was not mandated, but to learn at least one other language was useful. Since Pixandria bordered the Ocean Empire and the Cod Empire, Thorskan was a useful language to learn, as would Mythic be for Mythland and Gilded Helianthia. “Don’t worry. Your Pixandrian is very good. I merely thought this would be easier for you.”
The attendant nodded once in agreement. Already, his gaze remained firmly on Pix with a curiosity that Pix knew all too well. Beyond curiosity, he believed he picked up on tempered fascination. As for himself, Pix found himself fascinated by how way the attendant held his gaze and how he confidently approached and spoke in Pixandrian. Soon, Pix wondered what it would feel like to hold this man and kiss him.
Focus. He had no use for these selfish thoughts. Pix pulled his gaze away from the attendant’s lips and back to those beautiful brown eyes Pix could all too easily lose himself in. It seemed he was stuck between Scylla and Charybdis, captivated by the attendant’s beauty. It made him wonder what he had done to gain his attention.
“If I may ask, why are you learning Pixandrian?” he asked.
“It’s an interesting language, not like Thorskan at all,” the attendant said. “My name’s Jimmy, by the way.”
Jimmy. Not the name he’d expected, but it fit him nicely. It was the perfect name.
“Pixlriffs,” Pix introduced himself.
Silence descended upon them, the tension palpable. They both took in the other’s face, tried to memorize every detail. Pix had to look away several times so he wouldn’t be reminded of the thoughts that creeped into his mind. He had no time for this, he tried to remind himself. He was a Vigil Keeper. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in the beauty that faced him.
“I want to speak with you. In private,” Jimmy then said. “Do you want to come?”
Yes, Pix’s heart said instantly. Naturally, it was tempered by his conscience.
Pix instinctually glanced behind him. Around that corner, the other Vigil Keepers were having quiet conversation still and aided the Copper King with several suggestions to alter their offers to the Codmother. How long would it take before they noticed their junior Vigil Keeper had not yet returned?
“Don’t worry about them,” Jimmy said. “It won’t take long.”
Before Pix could look at Jimmy again, he had taken Pix’s hand. It was warm and soft, firm yet gentle. Pix glanced at the hand and then back at Jimmy’s face. Within these circumstances, how could he say no?
He allowed Jimmy to guide himself away from the Vigil Keepers, away from the public hallways and through doors Pix would have otherwise never gone through, deeper into the Palace of Cod. The floors of the narrow corridors creaked under their feet and Jimmy guided him upstairs.
“Where are you taking me?” Pix had been trying to memorize the route that Jimmy instinctively took. Even so, he knew he’d be hopelessly lost. Especially if he kept looking at Jimmy instead.
“Somewhere safe,” Jimmy responded.
They entered a hallway with six or seven unassuming, plain wooden doors. Without letting go of Pix, Jimmy pushed his shoulder against one on the right. The door was easily pushed out of the lock and swung open with a creak.
“Here.” Jimmy gestured into the room, taking the lead.
Pix allowed his curious gaze to wander around the room, which was a little bare. A window looked out over the town at the foot of the hill on which the Palace of Cod rested. The bed hadn't been made and a handmade human-looking clay figurine sat clumsily on the bedside table. A decorative lime-green carpet covered the weathered floor, and murky brown curtains partially blocked the view from the window. One of the closet doors was open, revealing a messy interior of all kinds of different clothes, likely clean and dirty alike. Despite his prior confidence, Jimmy had grown a little anxious.
“So, is this where you live?” Pix asked. Why else would Jimmy bring him here?
“Yeah, it is. For the time being, anyway.” Jimmy closed the door and looked at his room. “It’s… I mean, it’s not much, but…”
“If you think Vigil Keepers have much, you’re mistaken.” The sleeping quarters in Pixandria were a bit more draconian. In Pix's own room, there was no space for personal trinkets or decorations. The closet was neat and contained the same robes every Vigil keeper wore. In theory, Pix could walk into any other room and it could have been his. It made Jimmy's room look and feel all the more endearing. A little more personal.
When he looked at Jimmy, it seemed like he was caught up in his own mind. His gaze was on the bed, his hand on the nearest bedpost.
“You wished to speak?” Pix said to grab his attention.
“In a way.” Jimmy glanced from the bed to Pix and the bed again a couple of times. Sometimes, his mouth opened a bit, but nothing came out. In an instant, Jimmy’s reasons became clear to Pix.
“Would you…” Jimmy said. “I mean…”
Pix stepped forward and placed his hand on top of Jimmy’s, the one that was on the bedpost. Such a simple act, and yet it nearly made him withdraw again. Already inspired by Jimmy’s boldness, he pried the hand off of the bedpost and held it. He noticed Jimmy’s hand fit perfectly in his own. When he looked into Jimmy’s eyes again, more puzzle pieces fell into place - puzzle pieces he hadn’t realized he was missing.
“I wouldn’t have followed if I didn’t want it,” Pix said.
A large smile spread across Jimmy’s face, followed by a delighted chuckle. A warm, near-ethereal sound that Pix knew he wanted to hear more often. Then, Jimmy took Pix’s face and planted his lips on Pix’s.
Surprise took him and for a moment, he froze. Yet, he surrendered to Jimmy’s gentle touch and how tender and careful he was. He melted in Jimmy’s embrace, leaning in closer and reciprocating the kiss. Though that voice in the back of his mind protested against this selfish act, it was all quelled by the proximity Pix didn’t know he wanted, the warmth of Jimmy’s body, the affection he had so sorely missed in his life until now. Strange, yet fulfilling. This was an experience he had no idea he had ever wished for, as he’d believed all his needs were met as a Vigil Keeper - yet, his profession could have never given him this.
It didn’t take long before they undressed each other and ended up in Jimmy’s bed.
The bed was a single bed. There wasn’t a lot of space, but they’d made it work. For now, they simply rested in each other’s arms, enjoying each other’s company in a rare moment of serenity and wholeness.
Stop this, that same critical voice from before said. This time, pleasure could not drown it out. You’re a Vigil Keeper. Act like one.
This had been selfish. There was no denying it. But it also felt so good.
He glanced at Jimmy. He looked so peaceful. Pix could feel his heart skip a beat. It was difficult to tell whether Jimmy was awake or not, but he seemed to be satisfied. Pix could get used to the warmth of his body, to his kind smile, to his gentle nature.
Was that what love felt like?
It’s merely lust, that same critical voice said. It’s hardly a meaningful connection.
Pix wished he could just enjoy the moment. That voice made that difficult. It raised a dilemma in his heart, one he wished he didn’t already know the answer to. A choice such as the one presented to him would leave him feeling unfulfilled either way. Whether he chose his purpose in life or Jimmy, he would lose.
From the opened window voices floated in. Those concerned Pixandrian voices caught Pix’s attention, as well as Jimmy’s.
Jimmy turned his head to the window, a frown on his face. “What’s that noise?”
“The Vigil Keepers.” Pix pushed himself up so he sat on the bed. He looked at the window, as though that would help him hear better what was being said. From snippets, Pix caught that the Codmother hadn’t wanted to ‘yield to their demands’ - all described as reasonable terms. Another question was raised, wondering where Pix had run off to.
Upon hearing all this, Pix’s heart sank.
“What are they saying?” Jimmy asked - his Pixandrian was likely not good enough to pick up on most of what was being said.
“The negotiations haven’t gone well.”
He glanced off to the side, stared out in front of him, his mind as still as a pond. He knew what he needed to do. He didn’t want to.
“That’s unfortunate,” Jimmy said. “An alliance would’ve benefited us both.”
After a moment, Jimmy placed a hand on Pix’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. “Pix? Is everything okay?”
“I have to go.” Pix pushed the blankets off him and reached for his undershirt on the floor next to the bed to start getting himself dressed again. All the while, he avoided Jimmy’s gaze.
Jimmy sat in shock, his hand lingering in the air where Pix’s shoulder had been a few seconds ago.
“What?” His voice was fragile and small. “Wh- Why?”
Pix took a deep breath. “I assume the visit has been concluded. The talks haven’t gone favorably for us. They’re looking for me.”
He’d always known. If all went well and the Codmother was especially accommodating or impressive, perhaps the Copper King might have been persuaded to stay the night as a guest. However, if the outcome of the negotiations turned out not to be favorable for the Pixandrians - if their offers were not met with enthusiasm, for example, or if the Codmother was especially callous - there was no reason to stay. One night in an actual bed would make no difference.
Even if the Copper King would leave as an ally of the Codmother, the Vigil Keepers were looking for him.
Pix placed his tippet on his shoulder when Jimmy gently placed his hand on Pix’s arm.
“Can’t you stay?” he asked. “Let them have their disagreements. Let them argue. It won’t change this.”
Pix nodded. “It won’t.”
What happened here had been one of the best experiences of his life. Whatever disagreement existed between Cod and Pixandrian leadership should not interfere with the memory. Still, he ran his hands over the fabric of his robe to smoothen it as much as he could.
“But?” Jimmy pulled his hand back to him. “I can feel a ‘but’ coming. Spit it out.”
“In Pixandria, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. The individual thrives when the community does. When everyone works toward a collective purpose. There’s no space for selfishness.”
There’s no space for this.
Pix allowed himself a glance at Jimmy and his heart broke. Jimmy’s hair was a mess from when Pix ran his hands through it and his gorgeous brown eyes pleaded with him not to leave. Pix pulled his gaze away - he couldn’t allow selfishness to guide his heart again. “I can’t stay.”
For a moment, silence. Jimmy sat there while Pix finished making his outfit look like nothing significant had happened.
Jimmy shook his head.
“That’s bullshit,” Jimmy said incredulously. “Working together sounds great, but what you described doesn’t sound healthy at all. What, you can’t have what you want because if you do, Pixandria suffers? Is that right?”
Pix sighed. Yes and no. It wasn’t so much that Pix couldn’t have it. It was that he shouldn’t pursue it, for the pursuit alone expended resources and energy that could be better spent elsewhere, especially in his capacity as a civil servant. How would he be able to perform his job and serve Pixandria if he allowed himself to be as selfish as he had been since he first saw Jimmy?
“It is what it is,” Pix responded.
“It is what it could be,” Jimmy retorted. “It doesn’t have to be that rigid, y’know.”
Yes, it does. That is how it has always been, and that is how it will be. That is how Pixandria thrives.
Pix turned to Jimmy. For a second, he didn’t see the man he liked. For a second, he had to treat Jimmy as a Cod who needed to be educated.
“I tend to the candles of the Vigil. I interpret the stars and offer guidance to those who need it. I serve the people of my country. I cannot afford to be distracted.”
Those words had a profound effect. Jimmy slouched, watched him with such sorrow. A look in those eyes that nearly caught Pix off guard - a look from which he had to steel his heart.
If Pix slipped up now, how would he be able to face his fellow Pixandrians?
“This was a gift,” Pix said at a lower volume and a gentler tone. “I’ll forever treasure it. But I can’t stay here.”
“Promise me you’ll be back.” Jimmy’s voice sounded as though it could break any second. “Please. Promise me.”
Pix quietly took Jimmy’s hand in his own. While he spoke, he allowed himself to look into the eyes he could easily drown in. Already, the fear of slipping up gripped his heart again.
“When the time is right, I swear I’ll find you again,” Pix said solemnly.
Jimmy nodded once, slowly. “I’ll miss you.”
Pix released Jimmy’s hand, placing it back on the bed. “Farewell, Jimmy.”
“Goodbye, Pix.”
Pix made sure not to slam the door as he left.
