He couldn’t believe he was really doing this, that those words fell from his lips. Gifts from the fair folk were not to be trusted, deals were even more costly. They delighted in twisting and turning a mortal’s words until they fit whatever payment they wanted from the transaction. This was riskier than taking the stone so many years ago in exchange for friendship. There was little to no guarantee it would work but he had to try, he couldn’t sit idly.
“A condition?” He’d never known the prince to sound weary but there was no other way to describe the tone that coloured his voice as he spoke against a ticklish part of Arlan's neck. “A deal you mean.”
“Yes. A deal. I’ll come with you to your kingdom, for as long as you want, if you let my friend go.” His words sounded far more confident than he currently felt, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking too visibly. “Here I mean. If you return him to his home, to his mom. Not just anywhere, he needs to come home.”
The prince sighed, his hold loosening. The faerie never let go first, it was always Arlan finding a way to get out of his hold. For him to be the first to let go made the human’s stomach roll with worry and unease. This was uncharted territory, wandering into a situation he’d always sworn he would steer clear of. If he didn’t know better he would suspect the prince to be just as uncertain as he was about this whole situation only the prince was never uncertain. He always seemed to have his steps planned out well ahead of Arlan and while he didn’t necessarily sound surprised, he didn’t seem to be as confident as he usually was.
“Mies. I want Corwin back and I want him safe. He should have never been taken in the first place. It’s my fault right? Because I wouldn’t go outside that night? You were punishing me. Return him and I’ll come with you.” His voice cracked a little as he turned, one hand reaching out to touch the fae’s cool shoulder. The faerie stared down at the fingers on his arm, rough and harsh against his fair complexion, the expression on his face one of surprise. How many years had it been since Arlan had touched him first, even the human didn’t know.
“It will be done.” The prince plucked Arlan’s hand off his arm, wrapping his own around it, fingers just a little too long, palm cool in the hot air. “I swear it.”
With the shake of their hands the wind about them picked up, twisting and spinning, grabbing loose leaves and discarded petals as it swirled. For a brief moment Mies’ grip felt like a chain, binding Arlan to him forever. There was no going back, no breaking of his word, he knew that in the core of him now. He just had to hope the fae was as committed to his word as he was, that his friend would finally be safe and sound. With panic he realized he would never know for sure, he’d not made that a part of the contract.
“Wait-”
“There is no more time to wait. We go.” For a brief moment the prince looked almost distraught by his words, arms reaching out once more to embrace him. “You’re mine.”
The light above them grew brighter, too bright to be the moon alone, illuminating everything until the world was nothing but a painful white. Arlan couldn’t fight it, his eyes closing as tightly as he could manage to try and block some of it out, his world red. Even closed his eyes ached at the intensity, the moment stretching on and on as if it might never end. Was this what he’d agreed to? A world of blinding light and pain as punishment for his childhood mistakes?
Then all at once the light was gone, leaving spots in its wake that refused to be blinked out of existence right away. When the world around Arlan finally came into focus he was confused, brows furrowing. This was the same stone he’d been sitting on just a few minutes ago, the same clearing he’d dreaded for so many years. The prince was supposed to steal him away, light he had with Corwin years ago. Had he decided not to follow through on the deal? He wasn’t sure if that notion left him feeling relief or disappointment.
His train of thought was interrupted when a small ball of soft, flickering light drifted into his field of view, lingering there. It looked a little like a candle flame, free of it’s wax body, bobbing and swaying in the air as it hovered not that far from him. He’d never seen anything like it. No firefly had a light that moved like that, mostly constant. Arlan turned to get a better look, trying to move slowly but it didn’t matter. The light darted back, again just on the very edge of his vision, stopping before he lost track of it entirely. He turned a second time, trying again but ended up with the same result. The little light was almost teasing him, taunting him.
A third turn had the light at the edge of the clearing and a realization hit him. The light wanted him to follow. He got to his feet without really thinking about it, moving forward, watching the airborne flame do the same. At the edge of the clearing he turned to find that this wasn’t the same place he’d come from. Instead of straight, worn sidewalks he was staring at a winding path lined with cobblestones, foliage reaching out to cast shadows upon them. This was not his home anymore. Mies had taken him from his home as promised, though he’d left him abandoned past the veil.
At this point his stomach was just in a permanent state of unease, knotting as he once again started following the little light. It was friendly and warm in colour but then again, many fae and their legends spoke of the tricks they played on mortals that trusted too well. He had no other options here, other than to return to the stone and wait there, hoping that the next time he opened his eyes he was home again. Neither option was overly appealing in the dark of the night with the strange doubled moon.
He found he couldn’t tear his eyes from the willowisp that was guiding him down the path. Any pause to take in the world around him left the wisp almost too far ahead to see and there were a few unexpected turns he might not have seen if it wasn’t for his fiery guide. It wasn’t that long of a walk, or at least it didn’t feel that long in the end, when he was left standing in front of a door carved into the trunk of the largest tree he’d ever seen. Time worked oddly here, he couldn’t really be certain how long anything was taking, he only knew he could accept no gifts, food, or drink from any fae other than the prince. He was already bound to Mies, he didn’t want to trap himself with another.
With a deep breath he opened the door, revealing a long hallway, moss carpeting the floor, leaves decorating the walls with the occasional mushroom peeking through, illuminating the way. It looked like something out of a dream, the light they shed soft and almost eerie, getting brighter as he went deeper in. There was another door at the other end, this one more ornate, the wood carved into swirls and grooves unlike the last that had just looked like bark. For a moment he wondered what might happen if he didn’t open this door, if he just turned around and walked away from this all but that seemed almost more dangerous than entering the strange new area.
He didn’t even get a chance to open the door, when he lifted his hand to put it on the handle, the door opened itself, inviting him in. This room was large with ornate chairs set along the back wall, occupied by a variety of faces he’d never seen before and one he had. Mies stood next to what looked like a large throne, his posture stiff, expression unreadable. The walls on either side were lined with more fae, these ones looking more like guards in comparison to those seated. This was the faerie court, Arlan was standing before more fair royals who all watched him with faces he could never trust. Mies seemed reluctant to meet his eyes as he stepped forward, jumping a little when he heard the door close behind him. Whatever was happening here, he was locked in.
“Mies was right. You’re perfect.”
The fae seated on the largest throne wore a smile that left Arlan feeling cold despite the warm weather. There were too many teeth showing, eyes too sharp to make the action look anything but sinister. Their voice filled the room, commanding the attention of everyone present. Only the prince’s face didn’t turn to look at the speaker, his eyes still on the human’s face. There was something so strange about the fae’s position, Arlan didn’t understand. For comfort he slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers finding the smooth stone that had started all of this so many years ago.
Fae glamour didn’t disappear when the veil was crossed. When Arlan’s fingers met with the small rock his eyes adjusted to see through yet another layer of magic and sorcery.
Mies still stood behind the throne, that hadn’t changed but now he didn’t look as if he’d chosen to stand their on his own. Around his neck and wrists there was a fine gold line, thin chains hanging off of each, their ends in the hands of the fae on the throne. He looked a prisoner of his own here, something powerful keeping him linked to another fae. Arlan’s eyes went wide as he figured it out, staring at Mies instead of the speaker.
The faerie prince’s eyes looked so sad as he mouthed something in his direction. I’m sorry.
He didn’t understand. Sorry for what? For plucking him from his world and dragging him here? He’d been after this for years, everyday whispers of a better place, this place. Why would he be sorry now that he had exactly what he wanted? Arlan’s eyebrows furrowed, the crevice between them deep with his confusion. He almost mouthed back but the look of almost panic on Mies’ face made him reconsider. The fae upon the dais were watching him, inspecting his every movement.
“Garran, would you be so kind as to seal him?”
While the command was said in a pleasant tone, everything about it made the hair on the back of Arlan’s neck stand up. He had no idea what a sealing entailed or even meant for him but that smile upon the fae’s lips got wider, brighter with the flash of teeth and it scared him. For the first time since he’d made his choice that morning he felt genuine fear for his life.
The guard in question simply bowed in the direction of the dais before he stepped out of line, walking towards Arlan with steps that were too long, too fast for the shape of his body. There was nowhere for the human to go, one step back, then another reminding him that the door he’d entered was closed to him now. This Garran stepped closer still, closing the distance between them with a toothy grin, one hand reaching out to grab one of his arms. The fingers that reached for him flickered with at the nails before they wrapped around his flesh, grip tight.
There was the sound of cracking and a flash of brilliant light that lingered for only a moment before he found the guard sprawled on the floor, cradling the hand that had reached for him. The confusion was shared by everyone present, shock leaving mouths open and eyes wide, turning to the fae that was clearly in charge for some sort of explanation.
“Run!”
It was a familiar voice that cut through the silence, broke through the ringing that Arlan hadn’t noticed until now. Behind the throne Mies clutched at the backing, shouting louder than Arlan had every heard before. He repeated the word, dropping to his knees when the fae that held the ends of his chains gave them a harsh tug. It didn’t kill the hope in his eyes, Arlan saw a flicker of it there as he turned from the dais, his feet moving too slowly as he headed for the door that had blown open when the light flared.
There was no guiding light, no flickering willowisp waiting for him when he opened the door back to the pathways but he didn’t wait to look for one either. He could hear movement behind him, the guards were shaking off their surprise and giving chase. The sound of his footsteps on the cobblestone was too loud, too obvious, they would find him too easily but he couldn’t stray from the path. There was only one way he could try and go, back to the clearing that had started this all.
He was certain that he’d made a few wrong turns but still somehow he found himself running towards that flat stone that had first opened his eyes to this hidden world. He had no idea what to do once he got there, or how to use it to cross the veil but it was his only chance. It was as he stepped past the last tree that he felt the fingertips of the fae behind him. One plucked at his shirt, another at his hair until one finally managed to trip him. As he went down he found himself connecting with the stone and then his world went dark.
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