With his hand upon the cool surface he saw the fair boy for the first time, with his fiery hair and pointed ears. There was no danger here, just a new friend, a new friend who claimed to be lonely so wouldn’t he take this little stone that could grant him the same sight as the large one. That way they could play together whenever they wanted, not just in a clearing that could cause trouble for anyone caught within. Every faerie gift came with a price but he didn’t learn that himself until it was far too late.
Of course the cost wasn’t made clear until it was far too late to correct his childish mistake He just woke one morning to the town in a panic, his best friend missing from his bed in the middle of the night. It wasn’t until he saw his mother sobbing at the funeral, casket empty, that he realized this had been his doing. The fair folk had spirited away one friend after the gift of another’s. He’d begged and pleaded, offering the small stone and all it stood for back to the fae prince but it was too late. Once they had a human in their clutches they would keep them forever, fragile prizes for their hidden world.
He sat in the parking lot of his building when he got home, eyes drifting up to the starless sky. If he’d gone out that night to play would he have been the one with the empty bed and the broken hearted family? Or would life had gone on as it had the weeks before with no one the wiser about his strange imaginary friend. With a shake of his head he forced the thoughts from his mind. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t change it, its grasp upon him the reason he was so eager to try the sage now.
The clerk had been kind enough to slip a bit of paper with some instructions about the sage into the bag on his way out. He followed them with pursed lips and furrowed brow, opening a few windows to keep the smoke alarm from chiming in. He made it through the living room and kitchen, feeling a little silly until he reached his bedroom. There, upon the night table was the stone he’d let roll under the floor. It had somehow found its way back onto the casual alter he’d made for it over the years.
He was desperate for this to end, for his life to find some semblance of normal again. Finishing with his sage, he headed out onto his balcony, the smoke and thick air leaving his head spinning. He gripped the railing as if it was the only thing in the world keeping him stable, eyes wandering up to the sky. For just a moment it looked as though two moons hung in the sky, so close that their edges blurred together a bit, mirroring one another. With a blink of his eyes the double was gone, his pulse slowing only when he told himself it was just his mind playing tricks on him.
Today had been a stranger day than most tended to be and he was ready for it to be over. Without looking at the stone again, ignoring the whispers and pull he felt in his fingertips he climbed into bed and willed himself to fall asleep.
He loved the sensation of a cool breeze against his skin, grass tickling at his skin while he laid back to watch the clouds go by. In his dream they twisted a little more whimsically, hints of colour in the places were shadows lay. There was nothing here but sunshine, no worries to bog him down, no memories clinging to his every moment. He could almost imagine the way the sun would warm his skin, as if it were truly hanging in the sky above him. He didn’t flinch when the sound of shifting grass reached his ears, he was afraid of nothing in this world of dreams.
“Hello my love.”
The faerie prince lay himself next to the man he refused to let go. Unlike in the waking world, he brought no terror or unease with his appearance or voice. He didn’t scare off his human as he settled his head against his chest, hair spilling across one cheek like fire. In this moment he was beauty itself, green eyes full of admiration rather than anger and demands. This was the version of the prince that he wanted to remember, the version that kept staying his hand when he drew it back to throw away the gift that had brought nothing but bad luck.
“You have to stop.” There was a gentleness to his tone, a lack of force behind his words. He meant them of course but it was hard to feel angry and show his edges in this dream. Perhaps that was the prince’s doing, maybe his magic could affect his dreams, lull him into a calm state. Only he knew it wasn't some spell, it was just the conflicted nature of his heart. As if by habit his fingers combed their way through the prince’s hair. It was silky and soft, smelling stringing of something earthy and a little floral when it moved. He hated dreams like this, they left him confused and conflicted when he woke.
“I can't Arlan. I love you too much to stop.” The prince's grip around him tightened a little more, his face shifting so that their gazes could meet. “You're mine for eternity.”
“I'm not a possession Mies. You can't claim me.”
“Then I am yours.” The prince replied smoothly, body shifting next to Arlan, shadow crossing his face when the prince raised himself up. “And I claim what I want.”
Their lips met in a kiss that was not their first and would not be their last. It was a slow and tender movement, breath hot when stolen. Arlan couldn’t argue with him, he couldn’t stop him. He didn’t want to. Right now, in this dream, he would give himself to Prince Mies with no resistance. He didn’t know if this was magic or just his subconscious and it didn’t really matter. This dream meadow was the only place he could lose his control, just for a little while.
He was almost disappointed when he opened his eyes not to sunlight and hair of flame but to his boring ceiling. The day had come too soon for him, forcing him back into a routine he’d come to dread. It was dreams like the one he’d just woken from that tempted him with the fae’s offer. He could just leave this all behind, walk through to the hidden world around him and put all of this responsibility behind him, Except, when thoughts like that crept in he was reminded of his best friend’s mother, sobbing, knees wet from the damp earth, at her son’s empty funeral. He couldn’t do that to his family, to his friends.
This day’s routine started with a trip to the bank, to the grocery store to replenish a pantry that was running dangerously low on essentials. It was tedious, walking up and down each aisle, trying to decide if the cashier would judge him for the cart he craved. The basket slowly filled with things he didn’t crave but he knew he needed, just another responsible decision made because it needed to be done. He was almost a ghost himself, a zombie as he shuffled towards the registers. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t notice when the woman in front of him was the same one he’d affectionately referred to as his second mom so many years ago.
“That smell…” Her voice was familiar but strained and he didn’t realize she was talking to him until she’d turned around, knuckles white as she clutched the front of his cart. “You smell like his room did.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, what?” His confusion trumped the manners that were usually ingrained into his replies. There was something wild in the way she looked at him, her eyes wide as she stared, seeing something that wasn’t there.
“You smell like his room did. That morning you know, when he was kidnapped. You smell like his room.” She leaned against the cart, the handlebar digging into his belly. He flailed, looking for a reply, any reply to give her that wasn’t more confusion. His voice failed, giving him air instead of sound but she didn’t seem to need more than that to feel encouraged to continue. “I tried to air out his room for days but the smell wouldn’t go away. It lasted a whole year, smelled like dirt and plants and living things. Couldn’t figure out where the smell came from, even the police dogs didn’t like it. Wouldn’t go in the room to smell it. I’ll never forget that smell.”
“I don’t know what to tell you? I had a shower this morning? Maybe it’s the kind of soap. I bought a new one.” It wasn’t a new soap, it was the same one he always used, it smelled more of clean than florals. The smell she described was one he knew fairly well and it left him with chills. The smell of spring clung to the faerie prince, left in his wake wherever he went. He’d smelled it yesterday when the prince had whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He’d smelled it in his dreams as the fae had leaned in to embrace him. The smell was a secret he could never tell.
“That’s not it. Why do you smell like that?” She leaned harder still, forcing him to take a step back to try and relieve the pressure. It only followed, her eyes wilder than before. “Tell me. What happened to him. You must kn-”
“Miss? Your total?” He was saved by the cashier who interrupted the tense interaction by calling out. The woman blinked at him a few times before she turned back to the cashier, embarrassment starting to creep onto her cheeks. She’d lost a little control, faced with such a painful memory in such an ordinary place. She said nothing else to him, grabbing her groceries and leaving at a pace that was almost comically fast. He couldn’t just walk away from the moment, his skin crawling with goose flesh, a chill settled on the back of his neck.
He was trying not to dwell on it, to put it from his mind but it was hard to shake the feeling it left in the air. It wasn’t as if he’d not always known that his best friend had been spirited away by the fae. That had been the price of Prince Mies friendship. Only, until today it really had just been the speculation of a young teen, born of old legends and strange creatures. It was as if today he’d been told all of his theories were true and that he really was the cause of all that pain and heartache.
His stomach rolled, the blame settling in the pit of his stomach.
The rest of his routine was thrown off, his groceries sat in his car longer than they should with him alongside them. He wasn’t sure how to process his realization. It wasn’t as if he could find his friend’s mother and apologize to her and explain everything. She was desperate for answers but the truth would be too crazy for her to accept. Besides he wasn’t sure he could even bring himself to speak the truth for fear of finding himself crazy.
He sat in his car, staring out the window at a world he couldn’t see as he came to the only conclusion he could muster. His fingers gripped the steering wheel a little tighter when the air inside the vehicle changed, feeling thicker, heavier, harder to breathe. It was as he’d broadcast the choice he’d just made, the hidden world pressing in around him now. The faintest scent of earth drifted across his face and he panicked. Was it just paranoia or was the prince here with him, watching him fall into a rabbit hole of thoughts.
It was the change in the atmosphere that sent him inside, bags of groceries almost forgotten in the back until they were rescued .
His realization wouldn't leave his mind, wouldn't give him even a moment's peace. The wild look on his best friend's mom's face still lingered any time he closed his eyes, even just to blink. He could see her desperation, still burning strongly even after years that told her to let go. She would never be able to put this behind her. She'd lost a part of herself and until it was returned to her she would always feel that hollow pain that had pushed her to the edge in the morning. He still felt it too, like a piece of himself was gone without his best friend. When things happened in his life he still wanted to turn to him and tell him first, though he wasn't there to tell anymore. He'd made such a mistake that night and he planned to rectify it if he could.
The sun was just starting to dip in the sky when he started making preparations. He used a rag to pick up the stone on his bedside table, keeping his skin from pressing against the surface. He wasn't ready for the sight quite yet, it wasn't time. The other pocket ended up with the bit of quartz he'd been gifted though he wasn't sure why. Maybe the notion of safety the clerk had passed onto it would act as a placebo and trick him into facing this danger with less fear. He circled his apartment a few times, making sure nothing was left plugged in or turned on, trying to get it as tidy as his nerves would allow. He needed to get going but he was torn, uncertain future looming over him like a storm rolling in.
The sun had set entirely, leaving the sky lit by only the nearly full moon when he reached the small clearing. He glanced up, pulse skipping a beat when it looked like once more there were two moons, so close they were touching, mirroring one another. This time when he blinked they didn’t vanish, hanging over him as some sort of peculiar omen from a myth he’d never learned. It almost sent him back, his feet stumbling for a moment with indecision, trying to pull him towards the stone and back home all at once. His original plan won out in the end, leaving him standing before a stone that had changed his life once already.
He sat, fingers spreading out along the cool stone, feeling it warm too quickly where his skin met with it. The smell of earth and plants came first, wrapping around him like a comforting blanket, a familiar smell he couldn’t quite bring himself to hate. Next was the sound of footsteps and the feel of arms as they wrapped around him from behind. The prince rested his chin against Arlan's shoulder, temples touching for an affectionate moment. There was silence for longer than the human expected, usually the prince was chattier than this, already speaking the second Arlan used the gifted sight. It was strange to hear the chirping of crickets before the sound of Mies’ voice.
“Come to me love.”
There was a softness to his voice that Arlan had never heard before, a gentleness that could have almost been mistaken for timidness. The fae squeezed a little tighter, pressing himself closer as he buried his face against his prey’s neck.
“I have a condition.”
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