At first it seemed like everything was working for the pair. For the first time in years Arlan didn’t feel as though there was something following him, just on the edge of his perception. There were no whispers, no touches on his hand, nothing that made him feel as if he was going a little crazy. The sudden silence from the hidden world was almost lonely only he had Corwin there to keep himself distracted from that thought. He wasn’t ready to admit that he actually missed the faerie prince in any capacity.
It was his dreams that got to him first, or rather, the lack of them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a dream that hadn’t involved Mies in some way and now without him, he had none. Nights were just like closing his eyes for a moment, only to find the sun rising instead of setting. It was disorienting after so many nights full of meadows and kisses and warm sun.
The moon had just hit the waning side of halfway when closing his eyes didn’t immediately lead to darkness. It seemed like it would at first, his vision took some time to adjust to the dim lighting that surrounded him. This was unlike any other dream he’d had, at least in his memory. There was no soft meadow or gentle wind. It was cold, dark, even after his eyes had started to adjust to it, shadows cast by unfamiliar shapes. There was a sense of unease that settled itself in his stomach as he stood, a vast emptiness pressing in around him. He couldn’t tell if there were walls around him, a ceiling above him, the shadows thick like fog.
Arlan didn’t pick up his feet as he moved forward, shuffling forward at a slow speed, worried that he might run into a wall without warning. One hand reached out at the height of his waist, occasionally waving about a little further, looking for something unseen to tell him he’d reached the edge. His feet started to ache, the feeling creeping up to his knees before he finally stumbled upon a change. His fingers brushed a wall that he could kind of see if his squinted, or at least he convinced himself of as much. Fingertips trailing along the wall he eventually found a doorknob, cool to the touch but familiar in shape.
Opening it slowly his vision was flooded with a light that left him blinking and teary eyed.
Through the haze there was a shape in the middle of the room, one that moved quickly as it whipped its head about to the source of the noise. Arlan couldn’t quite make out the face looking at him before they started to speak, voice a whisper that echoed in every part of the tiny room.
“Arlan? What are you doing here?”
Mies’ voice was hoarse, cracking a little with what could have been misuse or lack thereof, helping to give form to the face he could barely see. Before he could stop himself Arlan found himself moving into the room, pace faster than it had been, falling to his knees when he reached the prince’s side. He would have never expected to react so strongly to the presence of the fae but there had been an emptiness that felt a little less hollow when he reached out to touch Mies. The faerie flinched away for a moment, his eyes full of mistrust that melted into a painful hope.
“I’m sleeping. This is a dream. You’ve been gone.”
Arlan didn’t see the chains around Mies’ wrists until the prince’s hands came up to cradle his cheeks, touch tender and fearful. These chains were thicker than the fine ones he’d seen before and more solid when they made a soft jangling as he moved. He leaned into the touch, his own hands resting on Mies’ shoulders as if that might keep him from vanishing into the depths of his dreams once more.
“I’ve been here. You’re here. You should run. Run and never look back. Forget me my love.”
The faerie’s fingers curled against Arlan’s face, pulling him closer, close enough their foreheads could press together, noses brushing one another softly. Without question the human’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, a welcome embrace. He said nothing for a moment, just letting this linger, neither one of them looking to face anything more than this. Arlan had always seen the fae’s use of affection as a ploy but here in this dim room, with the chill in the arm around them, his fingers warm on his cheeks, this felt real.
“I don’t understand Mies. What happened? I traded myself.”
“You shouldn’t have, but they couldn’t bind you properly. You have a chance to be free. Turn away, never look back. I will be little more than a memory soon, I will not haunt you any longer.” The fae let his fingers fall away, chin tilting just a little, as if he might steal a chaste kiss before he pulled away entirely.
“What do you mean?” Arlan had almost followed him when he pulled away, heart aching though he had no idea why. Hadn’t he spent years trying to free himself from this particular curse? Yet when he was faced with a freedom he’d only dreamed of he didn’t want it, he cast it aside and demanded answers.
“My prison will vanish with the moon and I will be gone.” The prince sounded bittersweet as he widened the distance between them, a hollow pain in his tone. “Please. Before they find you here, before they claim you, go.”
“I won’t just leave you here.” The words surprised them both equally. Arlan had never known that he cared so deeply for the faerie prince.
“You must.” The distance was closed again, this time lips pressed together in a kiss that felt more desperate than ever. It lingered, hot and harsh as if it was the last time they might ever meet this way. It ended with a shove towards the door, Mies’ expression twisted into one of despair. Even if Arlan didn’t want to go yet, even if he wasn’t ready to leave he could feel the edges of his vision starting to lighten, the world around him beginning to fade. The morning had come to steal him away without any satisfying resolution. Arlan reached out for his prince, fingers closing around air as his eyes peeled themselves open. He was at home in his bed once more.
Of all of Arlan’s dreams, this one had been the most confusing. With eyes that struggled to focus he stared out his window, blinking to try and clear his gaze and head at once. He rubbed his eyes next, not trusting what he saw, surely he was still sleeping. The moon was waxing but just like a few weeks ago, it didn’t hand alone in the sky. It mirrored itself, doubled in the night sky through the coming sun licked at its heels. As much as he fought with his vision, trying to correct it, the oddity wouldn’t go away. It left his gut twisting into knots, trying to come up with some explanation that didn’t rely on magic.
He rolled over, trying to ignore it. That was impossible, he could feel that pale light upon his back, the moon’s face worming its way under his skin. Now his gaze landed upon his nightstand between distraught blinks, a familiar stone sitting on the corner. He’d not left it there, the stone had spent its time in the nearby drawer and it had stayed there until now. He’d certainly not been the one to move it and while he was suspicious of its motives, he was also curious. Against his better judgment he reached out to wrap his fingers around the smooth, familiar surface, sitting up to peer out his bedroom window.
The moon and its unwelcome twin still hung in the night sky like some ridiculous pair but this time one of the moon’s held a strange shimmery glow to it. Fae magic it seemed, was strong enough for a major illusion but not strong enough to hide the proof of it. He thought of his peculiar dream, how cold and dark it had been like the unseen surface of the moon. Was the second celestial body just a trick the hidden folk were playing on him or was it a phenomenon everyone's eyes could see? He didn't trust himself to know the difference anymore. He slipped out of his bed, as quietly as he could manage, peering into his living room to see if Corwin was asleep.
Since his return Arlan wasn't certain he'd ever seen Corwin sleep after that first day. He would curl up on the couch, blankets tucked around him as if he might sleep but his eyes never stayed closed for long. Usually they rested on the pale, glowing light of the TV, sound low as to not wake Arlan. He wasn't sure if his friend was even really watching what was happening or if it was an old habit that felt safe and comforting, he'd not been able to ask. Just like his past with the fair folk, sleep seemed a touchy subject, one that could easily be avoided if he just pretended he never saw it.
Tonight he didn’t want to ignore it, tonight he wanted nothing more than his old friend’s company.
His feet padded across the floor, the soft squeak of aged boards earning very little reaction from Corwin. He just moved his feet when Arlan reached the end of the couch, sitting down without a word. He leaned a little against the legs that had made a triangle next to him, saying nothing for now. Some old movie flashes across the TV screen, halfway through what looked like a corny climax, the sort of movie the pair might have watched in their younger years together. This settled in nostalgia and heartache, a reminder of missed time together.
“Can’t sleep?”
It was Corwin who broke the silence first, legs shifting though not enough to kick his friend off the couch. He didn’t prod further when his question was answered with only a sigh, he didn’t need words to understand the frustration that came with a sleepless night.
“Not anymore. Weird dreams.” Arlan kept his face turned towards the screen, letting the light of it cast shadows to make his expression mostly unreadable. “Can I ask you a question that might make me sound crazy?”
“You’re not gonna sound crazy Arlan. Believe me, nothing is crazy.” Corwin’s voice was caught somewhere between supportive and bitter but he wouldn’t stop his friend from speaking his mind if that was what he needed.
“How many moons do you see in the sky?”
Silence followed Arlan’s question, even the sounds from the movie seemed to disappear as the words hung in the air unanswered. He was starting to lose it, seeing things that weren’t there, having dreams about the fae who used to haunt him daily. What was he thinking, asking such an absurd thing?
“One… but how many do you see?”
Surprisingly there was no laughter or mockery in his reply.
The question was asked easily and if Arlan glanced over he could see his friend waiting patiently for a reply, no pity or concern hidden there.
“Two.” It sounded so stupid to say out loud, making him curl into himself a little, distressed look on his face.
“That's weird. Did you want to go to the mall later, talk to Elwyn about it?” Corwin’s suggestion took Arlan by surprise. While he had worn his charm every day since they left the store, he'd also expressed some disbelief in its abilities or the legitimacy of most of the store's contents. The way he spoke it was as if he didn't ever want to go back again and yet here he was, offering a return just to ease Arlan’s mind.
“Can… we try something else first?” Arlan fiddled with the stone in his hand, knowing full well he was about to ask what he was sure would be impossible for Corwin.
“Sure? What do you want to try?” Corwin didn’t even sound remotely concerned as he finally moved to prop himself up, looking at his friend directly now, TV forgotten.
“Can you hold this, and see if there’s a second moon?” The stone in his palm looked so inconspicuous, smooth and small enough that if he closed his fingers it would disappear from view once more. Corwin stared at it like it was a viper, poised and ready to attack if he drew any closer to it. The air was almost palpable with the tension that settled between the two young men. This question had been the wrong one, Arlan could see it now, too late to stop himself from making the mistake.
“No.” Corwin could only manage a whisper with his response, eyes still locked on the rock as if waiting for its attack. Quickly Arlan closed his fist around it, blocking it from view as he slipped it into the pocket of his pyjama pants. Guilt washed through him, his friend looked as though he’d forgotten how to breathe.
“I’m sorry. It’s gone. I won’t ask again.” How could he have been so careless? Of course his friend would want nothing to do with the stone, it was linked to the world beyond the veil, a world he made every clear that he wanted nothing to do with ever again. It had served as his prison for years and here Arlan had asked for him to casually reach out to it willingly once more.
He went to leave, assuming that Corwin would want to put as much space between himself and the stone as possible but he found himself stopped by his friend’s hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t go. I just, can’t touch it. I’m sorry Arlan. Please stay.”
How was anyone supposed to say no to a request of that nature? Arlan didn’t get off the couch, instead he curled at on his end, pillowing himself against Corwin. The pair said nothing else that night but they both watched a nearly silent screen flicker and flash before their eyes until one pair grew heavy. Arlan fell asleep there, the hints of nostalgia clinging to the scene long after he started to gently snore. Corwin didn’t follow in his footsteps, he couldn’t anymore, but he could lay still and let his friend catch at least a little peaceful sleep.
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