(Flower Husbands flangst, 1359w)

Prince Jimmy of the Swamp Empire jolted awake. Throwing off his sheets, panicked, he clutched his chest where he'd just been--

Where he'd just been impaled. By an arrow. During a battle. In a foreign world he didn't know.

Jimmy blinked, and realised tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. He slowly lifted his hands from his chest to wipe face.

No need to cry. He chided himself, Just a nightmare. None of that actually happened ..

But.. What if? He patted himself and his bed, just to make sure that everything was real.

His mattress felt real. So did his silk beige sheets and his plush green blanket. His pyjama bottoms felt real. His knotty blond hair felt real. This was real.

But so, it seemed, was that dream. That arrow, that battle… Jimmy's joyous little flower field he had called home. He remembered everything too well.. Each blade of grass had to have been real, each etching in the beautifully carved wood, each day that had passed. Every small smile, every lingering glance, every..

No. That made no sense. That was ridiculous. Jimmy couldn't have just dreamt up an actual reality. Jimmy had always been imaginative and bright, but as he pushed himself up to get dressed for the day he forced himself to grasp his reality.

"I am Prince Jimmy Solidarity." He muttered, "Only son of the Cod Father, heir to the title and throne of the Swamp Empire. I am not some gay flower elf."

Repeating those words as if they were his lines for a play, the prince went about his morning. While at breakfast, in a desperate attempt to distract himself, he offered to do one of his least favourite things: go to the monthly Royal Council of Empires with his Father, where all the Empires in the region met to discuss the state of their respective environments and trade and stuff.

It was a royal pain in the butt.

"Where's it gonna be this time Dad…?" Jimmy asked, forcing himself to focus on his food and ignore the beautiful vase of sunflowers, set for decoration in the middle of the table.

Jimmy's father-- a hearty man, bold and strong --grinned at his son with obvious excitement. "In the frozen mountains of Rivendell, the homeland of Snow Elves!"

The blond prince paused, "...Elves?"

"Indeed, son!" His father boomed, "A proud race, the Snow Elves. Loyal, and proud."

Jimmy sighed, and pushed away his plate. He was ready to get the day rolling, so the memories of his dream could become a distant blur. He hoped being around Elves didn't remind him too much of his strange dream. "Well, let's be off then."

Jimmy couldn't fly yet, and his father was, frankly, salmon-eggs at it, so the Elven king had graciously arranged a chariot to come pick them up. Jimmy was sceptical of how a chariot could get them up a mountain in time for the meeting, until he saw what was pulling the chariot.

Stags. That could walk on air.

Long story short, they got to the meeting on time. As the magical chariot circled the mountaintops that made up the kingdom of Rivendell, Jimmy's father leaned over and whispered, "Legends say these mountains were inhabited by gods long ago. The Elves say the gods are still there."

"Are they?" Jim asked,

The Cod Father grinned, "Who knows. My bets, though? The Snow Elves are the gods."

Jimmy tilted his head, "What does that mean? Is it because they're proud, like you said?"

The king chuckled. "You'll see."

The chariot landed soon, and a kind elven butler showed Jimmy and his father their way to the meeting room. Once there, the meeting began, as Jimmy and his father had been the last to arrive.

The meeting was boring, as expected. Under different circumstances, Jimmy would've fallen asleep. He didn't for two simple reasons; it would reflect poorly on his father, and he was afraid. Afraid of sleep, afraid to dream again.

Once it was his Empire's turn to talk about ecosystems and stuff, Jimmy's father rose. He clasped his hands and nudged his son to sit up straighter.

"I am King Gill, Cod Father, smotherer of slime, and ruler of the Swamp Empire." His father's great voice echoed through the hall, "I am here with my son, Prince Jim, heir to my throne, to speak on behalf of my kingdom."

The other Kings and Queens and Rulers around the table nodded. The Queen of Rivendell hummed. "Your son looks about the same age as mine."

Another prince his age? That piqued Jimmy's interest. He scanned the table, and it was only then the blond noticed the teal haired boy sitting directly across from him, his golden eyes inspecting Jimmy with curiosity.

Jimmy's mouth dropped. He suddenly understood what his father had said about the Elves being the gods, because this prince had some magic about him that Jimmy simply couldn't explain.

His hair, his eyes, his small smile, the way he held himself.. everything about him seemed almost otherworldly. So alien yet so familiar. As if he was someone out of a dream…

The realisation hit Jimmy halfway through his fathers report on trade route with Mezalea. The prince shot to his feet and pointed at the perfect elf across from him, "You're my dream boy!!"

The room went silent. Jimmy could feel himself blush of embarrassment as everyone stared at him. He could see the Elven Prince across from him fighting back laughter. His father's firm hand landed on his shoulder and pushed Prince Jimmy to sit down.

"Apologies, council, my son can be..." The King struggled for a word as he studied his son. "..very passionate."

The council glossed over Jimmy's outburst very quickly. King Gill kept going on about trade, while Jimmy proceeded to die a little inside everytime he breathed. He excused himself to the bathroom to get away, but then remembered that he had no clue where he was going and had to ask the Queen of Rivendell.

The Queen was a very soft-spoken, firm woman. With a smile and a pat on the shoulder, she offered to get her son to show Jimmy his way to the bathrooms. His face red, he tried to politely decline, insist that directions would suffice just fine. But, as it's been said, the Queen was very firm.

And now, Jimmy fiddled with his traditional Cod Prince hood as he walked down the lengthy halls of the Rivendell palace awkwardly, next to the beautiful Elven Prince.

At last, he said, "You're very silly, Cod Boy."

He just spoke to me, Jimmy's eyes widened. He blinked a few times, replaying the boy's words in his head. He has an accent.

Jimmy pursed his lips, daring a glance at the shorter Prince. He still wore that soft smile, his golden eyes glittering with amusement.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"Don't apologise. I'm flattered, really" The elf chuckled a bit, "Not that I needed an ego boost.."

"I-I'm Jimmy. Of… cod- and stuff.." Jimmy blurted without thinking, "By the way.."

The elf laughed again, "I'm Scott. Of owls and stuff."

Jimmy pouted, despite being the furthest thing from mad. "Don't mock me."

"I would never."

The two walked in silence for a while longer, and Jimmy marvelled at just how similar Scott was to the mysterious boy in his dream.

"You're lucky Im gay." Scott remarked, just as they arrived at the bathrooms. "Most straight elves might've found you a bit… strange."

Once again without thinking, Jimmy blurted the first thing he thought. "I'm not gay-"

Scott blinked, "You're not?"

"I don't like boys."

"You don't..?" The elf seemed genuinely perplexed, "I always thought… I mean I assumed-"

"That whole 'dream boy' thing was just a mistake-" Jimmy insisted. He was simply rambling at this point. "I-I don't mean to come off as strange- I must have mixed you up with someone else."

The elvish Prince sighed, an indistinguishable emotion flashing across his face. He began to walk back down the hall, leaving Jimmy at the bathroom. "Yeah. I must've messed you up with someone too."