Chapter Text
It’d been a rough night’s sleep – Rex had blacked out on water at Scott’s party the night before, so he hadn’t even remembered where he fell asleep or why. As his eyes, tired and crusted at the sides, finally opened, he realized he couldn’t recognize his surroundings.
It looked like the bedchambers of a small castle, with wood paneling on the walls and fine velvet curtains draped around a window. The morning light beams were harsh, though at least they weren’t shining directly into his face. The brightness was as irritating as ever, but Rex’s heart started to race as his mind was trying to create connections. Footsteps echoed to Rex’s right, prompting him to shoot upright.
The source of the sound was a young man in an ivory suit, looking like a prince in the vein of a Barbie film, with a fine gold crown-like tiara pinned into his short hair. Rex’s eyes scanned the man’s face, and suddenly he seemed incredibly familiar.
“Jeb?”
“How do you know my name?” Jeb responded. His voice sounded softer and he carried himself in those fancier duds with infinitely more poise, but everything else about him screamed “Jeb” to Rex.
“I know you. I’ve known you for years, Jeb,” Rex answered, squinting with confusion. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“These are my clothes, my liege.”
“I’ve never heard you say that, Jeb.”
“I’ve never met you, good sir,” the other Jeb retorted. “Do you know who you are?”
“Of course I know who I am, I’m Rex Mohs, bitch,” Rex responded smugly.
“Ah, a lovely last name, I’ve never met a true son of a Bitch before.” Jeb didn’t let Rex correct him, instead barreling into his explanation. “I found you in my courtyard. I’m not sure how you got there, but…well, that takes me to my own situation.”
“I have clothes on,” Rex remarked, ignoring the trailing end of the other Jeb’s sentence to check himself out. “I don’t remember wearing this!”
“You weren’t wearing any when I found you! I had to give you some. You’re lucky I prefer such loose tailoring,” Jeb replied, tugging at his long cuffs, buttoned with pearl shank buttons in gold seatings.
“You’re definitely not the Jeb I know, he wouldn’t dress so fancy just sitting around the house. You look like you’re going to the Derby.”
“The royal derby has already happened this year, my liege. Today is just a royal recreational decree, and I’m obliged to attend,” Jeb muttered, shaking his head. “As I was saying, I’m in need of a bodyguard. Things are heating up in the court – it’s straining my attendant, he’s of a far fairer constitution than even I.”
“I’m a chaperone by trade, not a bodyguard.”
“A chaperone sounds far more fetching, what a lovely choice of words. We’ll get along swimmingly.”
“I wouldn’t say that about my Jeb.”
“Wherefore?”
“Well, he never shuts up, just like you, but instead of being fancy he just talks about Gex.”
“Gex?”
“He’s a gecko and he goes on adventures.”
“A gecko! Say no more,” Jeb exclaimed, skittering off to another room. Rex groaned and slumped back into the bed as Jeb came back, holding a big handbound book. The spine had visible stitching holding the folios together, and every other joint had a long lacquered rod reinforcing the binding, with the center rod, made of alexandrite, being slightly longer than the rest. “I have a pet gecko, I draw him all the time having little quests.”
“Oh, fuck,” Rex groaned, rolling over and covering his eyes loosely with his tired hand. “You made the big fancy book, too?”
“It’s my job,” Jeb replied enthusiastically. “I was made a prince by the King for my scribing and for my manuscript binding. Look, see him?”
Through his hand, Rex reluctantly looked at the pages Jeb was showing him. His book was a journal, with a little story about the gecko scrawled in a beautiful hand across the page, and very medievally crude drawings of the gecko in the margins.
“I can’t escape it,” Rex groaned.
“He’s a fine little man, and I quite enjoy the practice, and –” A bell rang in the distance. “Pity I can’t show you more. We must be going soon.”
“A pity,” Rex muttered. “Did you put me in bed with shoes on?”
“Of course,” Jeb replied, shaking his head.
Rex shook his head in disgust. Jeb took his hand, pulling him upright. “We’d best be going, genuinely. The decree is soon, and I really must be there to write it down, my liege.” He looked straight into Rex’s eyes. “Please?”
There was a certain sparkle behind this Jeb’s eyes that Rex didn’t recognize from the Jeb he knew. He felt gently compelled, not by any logic he couldn’t follow, more that he didn’t have anything better to do, and since the world had to be so much different out there…
“Sure, why not?” Rex answered, lifting his legs, swiveling out of the bed, and getting to his feet in a smooth motion.
Seemingly every bell in town was ringing as Rex and Jeb made it to their seats at a table on a grand veranda, overlooking the city. Jeb produced his writing supplies from his bag and a few thimble-size wads of cloth from his breast pocket, offering two to Rex as he shoved a pair of his own into his ears.
“Quickly, now, you’re going to need them.”
“Why?”
A veritable army of trumpets blared a jaunty song from below, joined by buglers approaching them from behind. Rex scrambled to put the plugs in his ears to dampen the racket.
Two servants rolled out a long, silver-fringed blue carpet in the blink of an eye as the buglers neared. Rex turned around, and his eyes caught a small yet extravagantly-dressed young man nestled between them and a squad of guards. The man’s voluminous robes, oversized crown, and glimmering spectacles betrayed his identity until he passed under the right amount of shade for Rex to recognize him.
“That’s Scott!” he whispered to Jeb.
“That’s His Majesty, King Scott to you,” Jeb replied. “Best you kept quiet, this is important,” he added, putting a cautious hand on Rex’s knee as if to keep him from getting up.
Rex shook his head as Scott approached the edge of the veranda, his back to the pair. He raised his blue-and-white diamond-encrusted scepter, then waved it sharply to the right, beginning his speech. Jeb dipped his pen in his inkwell and began to write.
“My fellow countrymen, loyal subjects, nay, my friends! You who have gathered here to hear me, good tidings and blessings abound from your gracious leader!”
The townspeople gathered in the courtyard below cheered, and the other members of the court in the veranda clapped pleasantly.
“It is Sunday, my friends, and I’m sure you are enraptured to hear that, after a perilous journey and months of translation and training, my fine Merchant General is able to present me a new jewel from abroad!”
King Scott pointed his scepter east, and to the right a gaily-dressed merchant in a crisp crimson coat and a black cap with large feathers rose to his feet with a silk-covered box, bringing it over to the King.
“I have been informed this game is – what is it, my friend?”
“It is a fine variation on chess from far out east. Unlike our game, you must move your pieces along the lines, rather than inside the squares.”
“Oh, bother!” Scott exclaimed, exaggeratedly feigning the vapors with the back of his hand against his forehead. The crowd laughed audibly, even from so far below. “They know, much as you do, that I was never one for pawns and kings – perhaps it is the lines that shall aid me in our game?”
“I’m ever happy to show you. As always, I’m glad to be enlisted in your gracious cause,” the merchant replied with a mouselike smile. He had a feisty look in his eyes and a waifish frame, with bristly brassy hair poking out from beneath the cap.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Rex grumbled. Jeb answered this with an elbow to the rib, and Rex yanked an extra quill from Jeb’s breast pocket, messily dipped it in the ink and pushed himself further into the table to be better able to reach Jeb’s book.
“Scott I know does this sh#t all the time,” Rex wrote in chicken scratch in a crooked line on the empty page beside Jeb’s transcription. “Every week!”
“Keeps people w/o calendars on schedule,” Jeb wrote in response, his well-trained handwriting spilling forth much quicker from his quill.
“My guy’s got it down to four words.”
“Do tell?"
Rex counted his fingers to be sure. "Hey all, Scott here."
“CUTE!”
Jeb seemingly ran out of energy to continue this secret conversation, as he focused intently on Scott’s words. His hand flew across the page, and Rex couldn’t help but watch. This Jeb seemed, maybe…smarter than the one Rex knew. Maybe smarter wasn’t the right word – there was probably knowledge he doesn’t have access to that the Jeb of Rex’s own time would take for granted. Rex couldn’t let his thoughts trail off for too long – this Jeb’s writing hand was so deft, and his focused expression gave his familiarly soft face a sense of respectability Rex had never noticed before.
As he looked past Jeb’s face, he could have sworn he saw a little lizard crawl up over his suit lapels, putting little feet on his collar, crawling up to his ear, and whispering to him. Jeb nodded and it skittered down his arm onto the page he was writing on in his journal. It pointed to a blank space Jeb had left between two words in the journal, which Jeb quickly nodded and filled in before the gecko crawled up his shirt sleeve. A moment passed, and Jeb looked over to Rex, finally noticing his staring. All he could do was smirk as he poked Rex.
“Look up, it’s almost over. This is my favorite part,” Jeb whispered, pointing up to the speakers in front of them.
“And where might one locate such fine new playthings for their families to enjoy, good sire?” the King asked, exaggeratedly charading an ear horn to listen to his merchant with.
The merchant was handed a great longbow and arrow by a quick-footed servant. He walked closer to the window and drew the bow. The whole audience behind them stood up, and Jeb led Rex as they all crowded closer to the windows.
The merchant took a deep breath before belting his final line with aplomb. “Your Majesty, all your worthy subjects can acquire them for a gold shilling at my fantastic emporium!”
He fired, and the groundlings beneath cheered as the arrow sailed across the courtyard, hitting a bullseye placed a hundred yards away, slightly lower than the veranda they were on.
“I love it when you do that!” Jeb yelled with his hand raised, and the merchant readily received his high five. Rex stepped forward to look closer at the target – indeed, he’d made it in one.
“You guys ever wage any wars or what?” Rex asked Jeb quietly as he stepped back from congratulating the red merchant.
“Not in my lifetime, glory be,” Jeb answered, clapping along to the others’ cheers.
“With this, my loyal subjects, I bid you good day!” King Scott concluded, raising his arms as the trumpets played their song again, even louder this time. The crowd began to disperse, both in the veranda and below. Jeb took his handkerchief out of his breast pocket to wipe the ink of the quills they’d been using, and Rex watched.
“What now?”
“We can get lunch, I’m feeling peckish,” Jeb answered, closing his book. “Then I’ll retire to write this out, and when I’m done, probably tomorrow, my attendant will pick it up and go take it to the royal printers’ to be typeset and printed and such.”
“He’s gonna be back that soon?”
“He’s never gone for long,” Jeb replied, smiling coolly.
"Your Highness!" a woman exclaimed, making her way over to Jeb’s table as she called for him. When she stopped in front of them, she looked Rex up and down, immediately sneering. “What overcooked street rat did you bring to the royal decree, and pray tell, how much did he have to pay you to stink up the place?"
"He's merely doing his job," Jeb replied, putting his hands behind his back.
"What job does a layabout like you have for him?" the lady scoffed.
“He’s my chaperone,” Jeb replied, lifting a hand. Rex smirked and shrugged.
“Chaperone to where? Who cares about you enough for you to need a chaperone? Is your maid not enough, coward?”
"Evidently you do!" Jeb shouted, startling the other subjects. "My attendant is traveling briefly, my lady."
"Oh, is that so? It seems to me like you’re just going to have your new pet boy do all the hard work for you. I bet you’ll have him writing your stupid little manuscripts in no time while you laze about in your chair.”
Jeb squinted. "This is enough. I propose a joust."
The trumpets blasted again as Scott approached them with impeccable speed, looking them over quickly. "A joust for a quarrel, you say?" He said, his round tones carrying his simple words. “Have you chosen your champions, my friends?”
“Yes, your Majesty, I’ll be championed by my chaperone,” Jeb answered while shaking his head smugly, pointing back to Rex with his thumb.
“And you, Lady Lotts?” Scott asked, his head quickly nodding to her.
“My champion will be – hold on,” she started, before rushing to the window. She leaned over the windowsill to look straight down at the slowly-dispersing crowd. Scott followed her, with Jeb stepping forward to witness her as well.
She took a deep breath and yelled.
“I hereby request the Iron Ram as my champion for a royal joust!”
The subjects were the size of pinheads from the distance that they were viewing them from – yet one pinhead could soon be seen taking off in the direction of the stairs to the speaking chamber.
“How long do we have to wait for this?” Rex groaned. He took a step forward to try to peer out the window as well, but the other three were startled immediately, Jeb backing right into him as a grappling hook hit the ceiling and caught the stone windowsill. In what felt like only a minute a fish-faced man in light armor and a leather cap clamored in through the window. He whipped out a bugle and blew an irritatingly sharp bleat, before promptly stuffing it with his hook and rope back into his pouch and standing at attention.
“Guard of His Majesty’s City Gates, the Iron Ram,” he announced tensely, saluting the King.
“I declare this a fair fight, then,” King Scott concluded quickly, nodding over to Jeb, speaking with his lower jaw pulled forward as Rex knew his own Scott to do. “How’s the day after tomorrow sound, dear Prince?”
“Should be more than enough time for the presses to accommodate attaching flyers to your decree, your Majesty,” Jeb answered slickly.
“It shall be done!” Scott replied, and with a wave of his scepter he and his attendants departed.
Lady Lotts bit her lip and stared straight into Jeb’s eyes. “You picked someone random, I picked someone random. No funny business, got it?”
“Of course not. There’s no need to antagonize me, I implore you,” Jeb replied softly.
“I’ve had my fill for today. I look forward to antagonizing you at the joust,” the lady chimed, and she turned and walked away.
“I would be awaiting your orders, your Highness, but that may be against my lady’s wishes,” the Iron Ram grunted, awkwardly standing stock-still where he’d been.
“Good grief. You have my permission to go do your actual job, good sir,” Jeb answered, waving his hand as he tapped Rex on the back and turned to leave.
Rex shook his head, realizing who he was up against. “Glad there’s no muskets in jousting,” he whispered to Jeb, but Jeb could only stare forward as they walked.
“My word,” Jeb replied as they turned a corner into the hall. “I guess I’m glad for that too, but…what have I done?”
“You wanted to defend your honor, genius,” Rex replied, waving his hand in front of Jeb to snap him from his fixation. “I don’t have a problem with helping you with that.”
“Thank you,” Jeb said. Rex could see his face start to go flushed as he held his journal up against his chest. “I’ll try to reward you handsomely if you win. And if you don’t win, my attendant is the second-best healer in the kingdom.”
“How good of a cook is he?” Rex asked, his stomach growling. “I think my hunger needs healing.”
“He’s a wonderful cook. We’re not too much for meat, him especially, so he knows so many recipes with lots of lovely exotic spices – if only he were in the kitchen right now,” Jeb answered, looking at his cuff nervously as he spoke. “But I think it’d be best for us to go out on the town together, so come on.”
“I wish I could get down there as fast as that guy got up here,” Rex remarked. Jeb giggled and looked back ahead as they descended the grand stairwell to the bustling streets below.