Till He Stepped In by Pomona the Dream Diva

(Disclaimed: lyrics randomly used for storyline purposes from 'Cloudy', 'For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her', 'The Dangling Conversation', 'Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall', 'I Am a Rock' & 'Wednesday Morning, 3 a.m.' by Simon & Garfunkel)

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December
I am alone
Gazing from my window
To the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow

The prince extended his arm; his fingers brushing the heavy red velvets aside so he could observe the world they veiled in their thick fabric. It was snowing, the skies entirely overcast. All he could see was white, the window icy to the touch. The prince yearned to get closer to this wintery phenomenon, away from this all. The suffocating surroundings that were his lone tower in the very east corner of the unearthly chateau.

It was Christmas Eve once more. The prince's spacious room garnished with ornaments, eminent and dazzling in the softly lit alcove. A red-cheeked apple atop his dresser, leftover from the highfalutin' repast feasted upon a few hours beforehand. Plush pillows spread across the largely open space, the prince himself seated on one. Tucked by his mother, the lady of the house, under his novel cloak; a sound present.

For it was so very chilly outdoors, and this was where the nobleman had his eye set on. His eighteenth had run him by with nothing much to offer, apart from heartbreak. The crestfallen lad had been left behind by his heart's desire, the fairest maid in the county.

Not by choice - a high fever had risen to grace the cheeks of his chosen one and the somewhat welcome glow on such pale features had swiftly ridden her off and away to the unknown before the end of that very summer. Her suitor crushed down to pieces.

Nothing but darkness to entertain his lonely nights spent in his majestic penthouse. No more waking up to a warm figure pressed against his lean frame. No more walking his stallion out come morning to take his love for a romantic ride right prior to sun rising.

A gruelsome emptiness filling his whereabouts near and far, one that seemingly no human touch, in any form or manner, could infiltrate. For the prince, there was no hope left. He was prone to merely accepting his given path. Alone. Forevermore.

It was this time of the year that the successor of the throne found himself pining for something more than what his position in the scheme of life had to offer. He dreamt of gaining wings, to then set a-flight, and glide amidst the cool air above his father's lands.

Settling for sneaking in the stables once the age-old castle appeared asleep, yanking the gates open to let his horse first stretch its legs, later prance free toward the dim woods.

The tales from his childhood always bearing top place in his scattered memories. Greeting the supposed elves, fairies, gnomes and genies as he dashed on headstrong.

Deep, deep into the forest, deeper still until a greatly familiar sight lay before him. The prince's so far mute partner neighed gently and slowened its step to soon cease from all movement. His owner dismounted with ease, the snow creaking beneath his tall boots.

The lake he would incessantly return to for all his time on this earth. Frozen stiff, reflecting the moon's glow in his by now weary irides, sleep beginning to slowly weigh.

Blinking the threatening slumber off, the young'un took hold of Puck's, his trusty companion's reins and tied him to the nearest tree, making sure he would not flee.

The prince felt relieved of all his burdens at instant. This was where he'd been drawn to since he could only recall. To first indulge in childish merrymaking, then with later years retreat to whenever it all became a tad too much for the tried mind to handle.

The safety of his hide-out seemed never-changing, everything lay as it had for the past decade. Except for one thing. When he neared the waterline, a head of raven-black snowflake-laden curls whipped over at the sound. As the unwanted stranger wiped his face to better his vision, said curls revealed a pair of the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

As the prince was still almost unbeknownstly relishing the beauty this unexpected acquaintance bore, the aforementioned boy got up and patted down his moth-eaten overcoat. To eventually stride closer with watchful steps, his look cast groundlevel.

'Good evening sir. Forgive me sir, I'll leave you in peace. Please make no note of it sir.'

The fairer of the two felt his heart clench at the voice of this... peasant, this charming tourist thrown on his route by sheer accident. As if an angel had descended to sound its heavenly harp. The prince was wordless to describe the emotion he was taken over by.

After searching for the right phrasing to no avail, he stopped the dark one with a forceful grip of his shoulder; the gingerly intruder almost gasping in utter surprise.

'S-sir?'
'Please, stay. There's room for more than one, don't you agree? I don't wish to drive you away by my sole presence. Please. Here. Accompany me on this quilt of mine?'

The boy shyly scratched behind his ear, still unsure of whether he should make a run for it. It wasn't customary of the rich folk to act in such a polite, kind... amicable fashion.

Meanwhile the prince patiently awaited, something inside of him wanting more than anything for this sonny to remain and warm his now blandly heated chest some more.

He could not explain why nor wherefore - but out of the blue, he felt alive anew.

'If you so wish, sire. Gladly.'

His angelic tone was meek and fragile, but the prince could clearly sense delight in it, too. Over the attention he was showered with? Perhaps the poor boy didn't really have a soul to turn to, much like himself. But how could it be, he mused, with such grace?

The cloth soon arrayed, the unlikely duo sat down in turn, both of them enveloping themselves to their garments even tighter. The nippy chill was biting at their cheeks.

'May I ask for your name?'

After a minute of nothing voiced, the sudden exclamation caught the tinier off guard.

'Dar-, ehm, Stanley, sir. Off the Hayes estate a few miles up north, you've heard of it?'
'Surely, the king - my father, that is - often acquires his finest wine there, am I right?'

Those eyes of the most enchanting sapphire blue were all of a sudden wide as plates.

'Y-you're... Prince Daniel, kind sir? I had no idea, we've never seen a glimpse of you.'
'Comes as no shock to me, I haven't made myself present that often. It's understood.'

Daniel smiled to his company in the blistering cold, rubbing his palms together intently.

'What were you about to say?'
'Excuse me, my lord?'
'I make it my expertise to claim that no one stumbles with their given name.'

A slight blush crept on the young man's face as his shoulders hunched a little.

'I apologize for that. You see, my grandfather died a fortnight ago. He meant the world to me. Stanley was his name in birth, twas my father's suggestion I use it in reverence.'
'As honorable as that chimes in my ears, I say to each their own. And yours would be?'
'Darren. Darren, sir.'
'It suits you well. And please, call me Daniel, I find your humbleness highly awkward.'
'As you wish. And- and thank you.'

Darren made an effort to huddle up even further in his rugged clothing, tugging his collar up and blowing into his crossed hands, already a tiny bit reddened by the frost.

'Are you cold?'
'Just a little, I'm fine.'
'Would you fancy a walk? In actual fact... you're quite far off from home... would you refuse an invitation to Oakwell? I cannot offer much, but a comfortable bed for the night at least. I don't want you to suffer from this hideous cold more than necessary.'

Daniel furrowed his brow at his friend first staring at him, then shaking his head wildly.

'No, I really couldn't, I'd be barging in on-'
'I swear you'd be nothing but welcome... and you'd be warm. Please, indulge me?'
'Why are you being this nice to me?'
'No reason.'

He felt it again, that warmth crawling into his each bone, and all it took was a quiet nod of acceptance from this beautiful creature, this boy who didn't seem all that mundane. Having risen, Daniel took Darren's hand to help him up. Folded the quilt.

'Only allow me to fetch my horse and we'll be on our way.'

One more nod and a smile as Darren stood there watching the blonde unleash the handsome stallion, then walk him over, mirroring his own expression of content.

'His name is Puck. Quite the looker, isn't he?'
'He truthfully is, I couldn't beg to differ.'
'Shall we then?'

Daniel propositioned for Darren to take his gloved hand into his bare, noticeably shivering one. After a moment, he bravely ventured to obey the quiescent request.

And off they went, both unaware of the other's heart missing an all-important beat.

They made their way through a corn field, still hand in hand, locked in conversation.

'So what brings you to Lake Shire? I've never crossed ways with anyone before.'
'Oh I've always gone there. Well, say, from time to time. To clear my mind, mostly.'
'Same with me. Isn't it wondrous how we've never met prior to this?'
'May be... but I have noticed it's easy to see and yet not be seen, hear and yet not be heard. As as servant, it's part of my work description almost. I am faceless to most.'
'It's a doggone shame, if I might say so.'

Darren raised his gaze hearing that, exchanging looks with his prince for a fleeting moment in time. How could someone of his status and comeliness care for the likes of himself enough to strike a discussion when encountered? It sounded impossible. Darren had always wondered what the future ruler of the kingdom looked like, how his posture, his behavior, his spoken language differed from others not touched by royalty. And to his bewilderment, although of the positive kind, he wasn't a spitting image of high and mighty. His friendly nature only added to his vastly powerful physical allure.

He fought the urge to bite into his knuckles, to will his growing attraction to subside.

'Hop on.' Daniel abruptly halted, signaling for Darren to climb atop the saddled eyeful.

'I beg your pardon?'
'I gather we'll reach our destination quicker this way. You aren't scared, are you?'
'No, I just- I...'
'What is it?'

'I could do with a push. But- but I couldn't possibly ask you to-'

The rest of the journey to the wintery palace of kinds was ridden in complete tranquility. Daniel reveling in the feel of Darren's arms loosely snaked around him, his chin resting on his shoulderline. And Darren somberly reeling in the smell of wet wool, damp weasel skin and fur and something that was purely Daniel, all perfectly meshing.

The gallivanting animal kept kicking slush in the air as it raced onward in the newly descended mounds. The wind wheezing in their ears as it passed the pair carelessly.

Something was there that troubled Prince Daniel's mind notably. Something he had been lacking for a lifetime, it seemed. Something he hadn't even touched upon with his beloved Emmilyn. This feeling had him frightened. He'd heard of some village men's fascination with younger boys, barely on the verge of their manhood. His father had adviced him time and time again to steer clear off from their vicinity if ever in contact.

But this here was someone very close to his own age as far as he could only tell. If she were female by gender, it would've been called for, for him to kiss her hand as they reached the stables and as he threw himself down first to affirm the lady's safe landing. To present his arm so the delicate thing could lean on him and trust in his courtliness.

So, pondered Daniel as he practically without a squeak unlocked the door to his staircase, watching as said picture of delicacy stomped his feet in a struggle to rid the excessive icicles adorning his coat hem, why did it not appear to matter in the slightest? The fact that this appealingly effeminate youngster was exciting him?

That the faintest brush of his form as Darren first, foolishly in his mind, took to lead, then rapidly dropped a few steps to take his worthy place behind the aristocrat as they headed on, could kindle such elevating tingles under his very skin? Discombobulating.

And not something he was pleased to approve. He could never act on these confusing sentiments, this sprung keenness wasn't something anyone would look favorably upon.

Let alone his guest, now intriguedly following the dusted-up shelves of ancient poetry and prose gracing one wall of his luxurious space. His fingertip tracing the outlines of each novel with care, yet obvious want to acquaint himself moreover with the reading.

'I'll just take your coat, you make yourself at home; I'll take care of the arrangements.'

Darren slipped some of his moistened hair behind his ears, quietly seated in the corner as his host set him up a rest for the night; something he'd have happily done himself. What with all his years of experience. With Daniel nevertheless, he didn't feel it would come across all that well if he brought it up. The fair prince made him feel so... equal.

As if somehow connected to his line of thought, Daniel looked up from his doings, a flittering smile seeping straight into Darren's core before the interaction flailed again.

Daniel, astonishingly brisk with his task, soon approached Darren, who was busy concentrating on his ever-so-compelling fingers and how many ways there really was to cross them. A low chuckle coming from right next to him startled him fully alert.

'What's the matter?'
'I was going to ask you that. Is there something unnerving you?'
'This is insanity, you don't know the first thing about me, and our social standings-'
'Good riddance to those. It's about the person inside the prejudiced definition, Darren.'
'You don't know what's on the inside... if you don't mind me saying.'
'Of course I don't, you're incorrigible in your outlook. Would it be acceptable if I did?'
'Did what?'
'Learn more about you. That's up to you and you only.'

Darren opened his mouth to speak but wasn't too sure what was to come out. This whole situation had him so disheveled. Daniel took a good look at him, upped his jaw.

'For instance that pendant. What history does it bear? If it's not too personal to share.'
'My... my locket?'
'Oh, so that's what it is. Is there an engraving of someone special carved within?'

The lightness in Daniel's tone lessened distinctly, and a heavy shadow decided to pervade his sleep-deprived head. Now he would have his delusions torn down. Stupid.

An aptly sullen reply. 'Yes, there is. Her name was Collette. I loved her very much.'

The prince's mouth was left agape for a split second. 'Loved? You mean to say...'

'She concluded she wanted nothing further to do with me. I would've brought her the moon... but she insisted I was after something other than what she could provide me with.'
'And was she right?'

Inwardly, Daniel was cursing how his feelings were constantly manifested so bluntly. But Darren didn't seem to make much of it, his thoughts steadily on his annulled love.

'I presume she was, to some extent. I thought it definite we'd marry. But - bygones.'

For a while, both were speechlessly, heatedly wondering where to escort this next.

'There really isn't much more to know about me. Could you deign to return the favor?'
'What is it you wish to know?'
'Well, I am aware of your misfortune in love, my condolences. It's never easy.'
'I'm expressing my gratitude for that.'
'But... since I've never told any outsider what I just told you...'
'You're asking me if I could do the same? Let the cat out of the bag?'
'As a figure of speech, yes.'

Daniel slunk down at Darren's feet, leant against the edge of the bed with a grave sigh.

'Most of the time... I wish I could simply elope. This is not the life I'd ever choose.'
'You feel the crown already weighs too heavy?'
'Affirmative. I can't begin to say what harsh distaste I have for the mere thought of someone placing that damnable object as the finalizing albatross around my neck.'
'So why haven't you then? Stormed away? Chancing it all with the great yonder?'
'I fear too much. Sometimes I feel the only thing I'm not fretting is attesting to that.'
'So what else are you afraid of?'

The blonde scuffled his way back on his own two feet and, facing the older man, edged his long fingers into Darren's silken mane, beseeching the latter to erect his pose, also.

'I'm afraid of how you make me feel. Inside,' he added, cradling the deathly pale face cupped in his hands. It reminded him of times past, he had no intention of revisiting.

Darren's voice nearly broke as his eyes drifted closed, inches away from the other man.

'Don't be.'

No matter if you're born
To play the king or pawn
For the line is thinly drawn
'Tween joy and sorrow
So my fantasy
Becomes reality

It turned out neither had a clue in the world of just how sweet it was to sip the forbidden fruit, to finally close that meager distance between two parallel lives.

Everything stood still, and nothing else appeared to be of any importance. Nothing but the simple bliss of warm lips pressed against a responsive counterpart, soft moans elicited between the two. Tongues tentatively meeting to ere long deliciously entwine.

'This isn't right.'
'It isn't wrong.'
'Then what is it?'
'It's for now.'

With that said, Darren let Daniel slowly lower him down on the neatly made linen, the sheets only barely crustling as the pair lovingly lay back in a genial, mutual agreement. Daniel's fingers snuck in to trick open the stubbornly tangled laces of Darren's vest, and the one on his back began unbuttoning his conqueror's shirt, licking at his neck.

One could have grasped the intimacy of it all, the tender rituals taking place, ones history had enclosed on its pages once and again - yet conducted as if by pioneers.

Daniel's breath got ragged as he felt himself draw nearer to losing control for good. Careful fingertips had been measuring stimulated skin inch by inch. Two heartbeats had rendezvous'd enough to synchronize their pace any given time. A completed puzzle.

The only thing left to do was the bleak return to ground zero from the starry skies their impassioned beings had, when joined, flown them amidst. For the longest time, after the feeble cry of his own name, all Daniel could sense was the stench of sweat all over, his stained stomach virtually begging for a wash cloth, and Darren's hands soothing him with languid strokes as he allowed for his breathing to even down in the crook of his minion's neck. The 'shh's and the coos losing volume bit by bit as he was appeased.

With a gratifying kiss to seal to experience, he then rolled over on his side, covering them both with his nearby-forgot attire, as stated, a profitable gift without question.

And those orbs of Neptunian blue was the last he saw before merciful sleep arrived.

My life seems unreal, my crime an illusion
A scene badly written in which I must play
Yet I know as I gaze at my young love beside me
The morning is just a few hours away

The clock had scarcely sounded noon as the prince awoke, rubbing the sleep off his eyes before they could focus on anything in his proximity. But before he had time to process a thing, he felt a somewhat smaller, pliable body connect with his, searching for excess comfort as it wrapped itself tighter around his naked torso, snoring softly.

And for the first time in what felt like years, Daniel smiled so that it truly pained him. He could not believe he'd once more found that spot deep inside of him entitled 'love', that tiny place he'd already reasoned far beyond any reach. And who was the captor? A mesmeric boy with an angel's exterior, but a demon-like power to tantalize within.

A subtle ticking, result of time slowly but surely passing, soon also caught up with Darren, to have him open his eyes to the profoundest shade of emerald, scintillating.

'Good morning. Get dressed, and let us hurry out. There's something for you to see.'

His curiosity piqued, Darren did not object in the least and was promptly up and about.

An hour or so later, the weather still as testing on one's spirits as the night before.

'Tis the labyrinth, otherwise known as the family's thoroughly nurtured pride and joy.'

Daniel had led his companion around the castle yard and to the back, where a huge garden extended its vines far and wide, to grander scales than the untrained eye could fathom. Darren was holding on to Daniel's arm agitated whatnot, blown by the size.

Daniel's whispered words came out earnest.

'Sometimes? I'd like to lose myself for all time, never to resurface from all the green.'
'In ways I think you have.'
'Whatever do you mean by that?'
'It's in your eyes. The green. You've absorbed it, it's yours to have. It's there, Daniel.'

And there was a breathless, soundless embrace, safe from any ill-meaning hawk eyes.

And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow
So I'll continue to continue to pretend

'What would you say if, for a measly moment, we forgot there ever was anything to return to, that you had your life and I had mine, and there was a thing to hinder this?'

The final words spoken as the two accomplishes in their orderly crime disappeared into the maze of past-belief proportions, leaving nothing but sparse footsteps in their wake.

~finis~
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