Chapter 1: Baby, You See Me in the Perfect Lie
Notes:
Revised on Jan 27, 2018.
Chapter Text
It was a dark and stormy morning. Kravitz pulled his hood lower and skipped across the stream, watching his steps as he went. It wouldn’t be good if he slipped and lost his basket to the rising water. He’d spent the morning straining his voice making the flowers bloom despite the early spring chill. Obviously, he’d probably dash his head on the rocks if he fell.
Not that it would matter if he died.
If he did, he’d wake up, muddied, aching, and missing a few hours. His hand tightened on the handle as he leapt onto shore.
“Watch your step, Beau,” a fox cackled from under the shelter of a bush He stretched with a yawning whine. As if he assumed Kravitz’s cooperation, he tried to stand right on Kravitz’s feet. Kravitz glared down at him, tightening his cloak. “Don’t be like that. Gimme a ride,” he complained, circling Kravitz’s legs.
“Go away, Taako. I’m not your umbrella,” Kravitz retorted and walked forward determinedly. He’d had years of practice not slipping on foxes weaving under his legs.
“Beau, I’ll drown,” Taako whined, stepping in front of Kravitz and sitting on his hindquarters to put his muddy paws on the front of his cloak with his ears back. Kravitz took a step back with a look of disgust. “C’mon, you barely ever notice me.”
“The villagers do,” Kravitz grumbled, holding his cloak out. This wasn’t a battle worth fighting. “‘Fox boy, where’s your fox today?’” Taako whined happily and dodged under the shelter of his cloak before Kravitz could change his mind. “Then, you’ll steal some fish and your ‘fox boy’ is going to have to pay for it,” he growled and jabbed his finger in Taako’s general direction.
“I made you good stew with that fish,” Taako snorted, pausing at the edge of the river. Steam puffed from the little ferry. The docks weren’t large or exactly busy this time of day even if the ferry wasn’t the only ship in the harbor. An air balloon was tied off nearby, an advertisement for some low-budget podcast spilled across its surface. Similar crafts splattered the docks. Kravitz scooped Taako up in his cloak with a mind for muddy paws like it was second nature; maybe after all these years it was. He pressed two copper into the waiting hand of the boatman.
“Make sure you put a collar on that creature ‘fore we leave shore, fox boy,” the boatman reminded him gruffly. Right. They’d been none-too-pleased about Taako stealing fish. Kravitz slid a glare down at Taako who sneered right back.
“Just try it,” Taako hissed under his arm.
The boatman rolled his eyes and repositioned his pipe, turning the dials on it so a game of rugby spread across the smoke.
Kravitz closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I forgot,” he sighed, starting to put Taako down. Taako tried to cling to him, all but biting his arm and growling. “He’ll just have to stay— Ugh!— here today,” he hissed at Taako. “Taako! Stay!” He wagged a finger in front of his snout. He dumped his cloak, Taako and all on the dock.
Taako snarled up at him, teeth bared and tail swishing rapidly. He bit into the cloak so Kravitz couldn’t take it from him, still growling.
“You baby,” Kravitz accused, finger in Taako’s face.
Another fox stepped around them and held a copper up to the boatman in its teeth. The boatman leaned against the pier and held out his hand. He put it away in his coin purse without so much as looking at the creature as it hopped onto the ferry.
“Good morning, Beau,” a hen clucked as she herded her chicks onto the boat.
“Good morning, Ms. Kellington,” Kravitz greeted automatically as he grabbed one corner of the cloak. “I swear, Taako, I will send you into the sea if you don’t get off my cloak.”
“Murderer,” Taako snapped, hunkering down, paws spreading mud all over Kravitz’s cloak. Kravitz’s eyes narrowed. Even when he couldn’t bring Taako with him – for whatever reason – he never fought this hard to go. Usually, Taako seemed to have a strict effort to outcome ratio.
The boatman counted coppers from the little purse Ms. Kellington had handed him and puffed his pipe in annoyance. “Can you boys move your domestic out o’ the line?”
Kravitz’s whole face heated up. He snatched Taako and his cloak from the ground. “It’s not a—,” he cut himself off with an embarrassed huff of hot air.
“Happens every now and then, ‘s an argument. Happens every morning, ‘s domestic,” the boatman said without looking at either of them. He waved Ms. Kellington on and pocketed her coins.
“Listen here, you—,” Taako started and gods they’d never ride the ferry again at this rate, Kravitz thought.
“Good morning, Kravitz,” Ms. Pickle called from the side of the boat. “And Taako, too, I see. I’ve got some ribbon Lup sent along.”
Kravitz sighed in relief and the boatman rolled his eyes, but let them pass. They were still early, so there was a dry seat next to Ms. Pickle under an awning. Pulling Taako onto his lap, he smiled at her. “Good morning, dear. Thank you for the help.”
“Beau, I’m not putting on a ribbon like you own me,” Taako whispered and hid his face under Kravitz’s arm. “I hate you.”
“I’m taking you to the village,” Kravitz argued quietly, trying to hold Taako in place. “If you don’t like it, go home, asshole.”
“You’re not the one who should be saying thank you,” she replied with a meaningful look at Taako, holding out a sweet to him. He lunged at it eagerly, big tail whapping Kravitz on the arms. She tugged a bow around his neck while he was distracted, tying it tight, a little bell jangling around the center. He whined and tried to scratch at it with his back legs. “Don’t you dare, boy,” she warned with a shake of her cane. “Don’t make me tell your sister you’re causing Kravitz problems again.”
Taako huffed and turned away from her, tail wagging angrily as he put his head in his paws. Kravitz rubbed his neck under the ribbon. “Red’s your color,” he teased. Taako’s ears flicked down and he grumbled something Kravitz didn’t quite catch. It was probably an insult.
Grinning, he sat up with a hand on his basket and the other on Taako’s back. Ms. Pickle took his cloak and tried to show Kravitz a cleaning spell, but he’d never been any good with magic. She sighed some exasperation about men dying if left alone for too long that made Kravitz hide a laugh with his hand. The ferry filled up as the hour wore on, sun finally peeking through the clouds. Kravitz kept up small-talk with Ms. Pickle; she usually wanted to know if he’d heard from Adam or how his garden was doing. The first question question he always gave a simple ‘no’; the second always gave him something to talk about. Taako fell asleep, lolling his head into Kravitz’s stomach as they talked about which roses were fighting the chill to bloom.
The ferry was busier than usual. Some announcement the lord wanted all of the isle’s residents to hear. Kravitz wasn’t too concerned about it. Ms. Pickle shook her head and insisted it must be another lowering of the tithe the isle was paid from tourism. He’d let her rant, touching his small coin purse and basket of hard-won roses.
It seemed two dozen cookies – each wrapped in shiny, clear paper and ribbon – had found their way on top of his flowers. He glanced down at Taako with a soft smile. Neither of them exactly earned a share of the Isle’s tithe as it was.
Finally, the ferry took off across the river, chugging away from the picturesque forest, giant mushrooms barely visible behind the veil of quaint evergreens and cottages that seemed modeled after the inside of snowglobes. The village was bigger than any of the scattering of homes on the Isle. Houses crowded towards the shore like dirty pots stacked by a sink. In the distance, the local lord’s estate rose modestly above the shambling townhouses.
Two little kids peered over the side of the ferry, staring down in terror at the water. He wondered if it was the first time they’d seen an ocean. Kravitz leaned back and put two fingers in the water. Sea life swarmed, storm-dark ripples catching the struggling sunrise like a blaze of fire. Fish sparkled in quicksilver drops on the cusp of each roiling wave, chasing his touch. Taako cracked an eye open and shifted his paws.
Magic sparked down Kravitz’s arm, parting the water’s darkness like a curtain. Coral spiralled in impossible shapes, climbing the to the tip of the Eiffel Tower that peeked from the water. One of the children reached out to touch the very top of the barnacle covered iron. The place where its antenna had long since snapped off had worn smooth from a thousand other hands that reached for the Old World. Mermaids jumped from the water in a flash of lightning, laughing joyously as they greeted the rain. The storm rocked the boat, but the mermaids covered the crack of thunder with their song of spring.
Kravitz put his hand between Taako’s ears as the mermaids peeled away from the approaching shore. They hung in the ferry’s wake, blowing kisses and waving. The tourists on the boat clapped like it’d been part of a show.
Fewer boats were in the village’s harbor than the Isle’s. It held onto the times when it’d brimmed with life, big enough for destroyers Kravitz hadn’t seen in an age. He swatted at Taako’s new bell while he waited for everyone else to disembark. Taako huffed in annoyance, but rolled on his back in Kravitz’s lap.
“Don’t be late to the announcement you two,” Ms. Pickle warned over her shoulder as she shuffled into the crowd.
“We won’t,” Kravitz called after her.
The dock had all but emptied in a few minutes – save the boatman whose rugby game cheered under the thin pepper of rain. Since Taako was still dead to the world, he settled him around his neck, under his cloak, and headed towards his first stop.
A statue stood on the edge of the boardwalk, facing away from the sea. Technically it was named ‘Gaia Gives Blessing’ but after everything had already been set in bronze, someone realized it was simply ‘Undine’ with a butterfly above her. Colloquially, it was known as Ives. Its mint-bronze hands were held towards the heavens and cupped a long-abandoned robin’s nest no one had bothered to dismantle. At the tip of its fingers perched a large butterfly with wings spread wide. It was either just landing or ready to take flight depending on if you saw the glass half-empty or half-full. In both cases, water spilled like a curtain from its wings into the ocean behind Ives. A hologram was supposed to play across the waterfall of an eternal loop of silenced newscasters in the moment between the Old World and New.
If someone was clever enough and not being watched too closely and had nowhere else to watch TV, the statue’s hologram could be changed to something less boring like cartoons. Kravitz snorted and elbowed the statue’s knee. Fantasy Tom & Jerry turned to static and whatever ancient internal mechanisms were supposed to keep the statue as a monument remembered to do their job. Spaceships launched across the water once again.
“Prince Beau,” a girl complained, leaning out from the shadow of Ives. She wore no more than rags, things either too big or too small.
“Mayflower,” Kravitz returned cordially.
Mayflower wrinkled her nose and darted forward before Kravitz could leave again. Her hand fastened on his cloak in a way that reminded Kravitz of the hissy fit Taako had thrown. “Prince Beau, what did the fox give you today?” Taako huffed in annoyance, but stayed immobile around his neck.
“Not much,” Kravitz sighed dramatically, hiding his basket behind his back. Mayflower’s face fell in disappointment. It wasn’t every day that Taako did have something for them.
“He promised,” she whispered. Kravitz’s gusto in his act softened. She’d said it as any child who’d resolved themselves against unfairness and unreliance. At least it explained what all of Taako’s growling and howling had been about to make sure he came.
“Maybe you should complain to him yourself,” he told her seriously. He pushed back his cloak far enough that Taako’s head popped out and a dozen children swarmed around them. Taako grumbled and scurried back under his hood.
“There’s three dozen under the roses. The two dozen on top are to appease these goblins,” he hissed in Kravitz’s ear.
Kravitz laughed and held his basket out. “Two each. If I see any of you grab more, you won’t get any next time,” he warned as they ran up and away to wherever they’d come from with Taako’s gifts in tow. Three children he hadn’t seen before hung by the buildings, looking at them hungrily. “You’ll have to start making more,” he said softly to Taako, watching them disappear into the shadows.
“There’s always more these days,” Taako answered almost mournfully. Kravitz pet him between the ears unconsciously. “D’you think the orphanage is full again?”
“It’s never had many beds,” he snorted and started down a narrow spoke towards the town center. “Never been good for curious children like Mayflower either.”
“And their names sucks,” Taako finished for Kravitz, folding his paws over each other imperiously. “Mayflower, Plymouth, Bradford, Prosper—.” He listed each off with as much scorn as the last.
“Taako,” Kravitz added with a laugh.
“—Taako, Massachusetts—,” he cut himself off and shot Kravitz a dirty look. “You are bein’ some kinda bad mean this mornin’, Handsome.” He shoved his cold nose directly under Kravitz’s ear as revenge.
Kravitz laughed and swatted at him lightly. “Stop it!” Taako huffed air against his skin before relenting. Kravitz rubbed nose water off himself with a grimace daring to become a grin. “Besides, is there a good kind of mean?” He paused in front of a café, plucking a wilting rose from each vase to replace with a fresh one.
“With the right kinda boots and a can-do attitude, there is,” Taako snickered. Kravitz snorted and rolled his eyes before going to the barista to collect his pay. They gave him a blueberry scone for Taako who tucked it away wherever he kept things as a fox.
The two of them wove their way around the groggily awakening streets until they wound up at the fountain in the town center. It was unremarkable and off-center in the courtyard before the village lord’s estate. Kravitz found a cracked seat and put out his neat little sign by his basket, ‘1c Ea.’ Most of his money would come from playing rather than the roses. He took his violin out of the case and cleared his throat.
Before he had a chance to start singing, the lord came out on the estate’s balcony. It didn’t look like he’d be getting any tips before the announcement came down and everyone was a bit more stingy with their coin.
Wisely, Kravitz put his violin back in its case.
“Residents of Fairy Isle,” the lord called, “You have been gathered so we may announce a period of restoration to increase the isle and the city’s tourism.” He felt unease spread in the crowd, even Taako peeked from under his hood. “Maintenance of the isle and the vagrancy coming from it is draining our resources. The city council has decided that we must take matters into our own hands until tourism brings wealth once again.”
“You’ve each changed the stories people are interested in. The twelve royal families most of all.” Kravitz’s eyes narrowed and he drew his cloak tighter, hood farther over his face. “We’ll begin in the castles. Whatever the truth may be in your homes, we expect to find happily ever after or we will ensure you are all happier with an end.” An easy shifting rippled through the crowd. Kravitz stood as the other people pressed against the fountain, away from the estate. Taako poked his head out, cheek flush with Kravitz’s.
“Our mages have prepared curses to contain your households if compliance is not an option.” The lord held out his hand and a mage stepped forward, setting out a mirror with a rose engraved on the back. Kravitz felt a cold jolt of fear shoot through him. That was one of his mirrors. When had they been in his rooms? They waved their wand and it turned into a rose, its roots growing into the balcony and petals leaning towards the sun. Taako hissed something Kravitz didn’t catch.
“It works on the living, too,” the lord said and looked through the crowd straight at Kravitz.
“We will start with Petit Castle which is in the worst state of repair. Next, we will inspect Snow White and the dwarves in—.”
Kravitz didn’t wait to leave. He dodged between the gathered citizens, past Sloane and Hurley holding each other’s hands tight in fear. Past the servants he’d long freed from being pots and clocks and dustpans to live their own lives away from a castle whose real owner was long gone.
“Kravitz,” Taako snapped, pawing at his ear, back claws digging into the nape of Kravitz’s neck.
Kravitz ignored him, sprinting to the docks. The ferryman wouldn’t go back now. He stopped at the edge of the water. A boat. He needed a boat. The water stretched out mirror-like without the rain to ripple it.
“Beau!” Taako wiggled free and landed on his feet with a wince, dashing into the shadows – bell jangling as he went.
Kravitz didn’t need to turn to know the hand that grabbed his was Taako’s.
“Calm down, bubala,” he told Kravitz. “It’s bullshit, but tell Adam—.”
“I haven’t heard from Adam in years. Decades! Happily ever after?” Kravitz laughed bitterly and dropped, legs hanging over the side of the dock. He folded his hands in his lap. Taako sat next to him, looking at the water. “I don’t even have a prince to pretend with,” he snarled, shoulders hunching. “If I run away—.”
“The castle and all your servants are fucked, my man,” Taako finished bluntly. Kravitz winced and hunkered his shoulders, fingers laced tight in his lap. “Don’t think Lup will take a denim-colored teacup for a husband very well.” There was something of a warning in Taako’s voice.
“I know, I know,” Kravitz groaned, taking a breath and fluttering his hands over his chest to try to calm his heart. He blinked, realizing that Taako still had on the ribbon, though it was bigger and styled as a cravat with a bell in the center. It felt like a dig at his sense of style and he found a smile creeping to the corners of his mouth involuntarily.
Taako took his hand and turned Kravitz’s face towards his. Kravitz looked up and stuttered something incoherent, heart nearly flying out of his chest. “Let me have your kitchens and I’ll make you a prince, Beau,” he grinned at Kravitz, thumbing his cheek.
“W-what?” Kravitz guffawed, pulling away and hating how warm his cheeks had gone. “I don’t need a gingerbread prince, Taako.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to free his hand from Taako’s.
“Hah. I couldn’t cook somethin’ hotter than me, my man,” Taako smirked and leaned forward, hanging on Kravitz like he always did as a fox. “I’m a good actor. I’ll be your prince if you give me your big fancy kitchens.”
As much as he tolerated Taako, Kravitz knew what he was. He tried to look all around the issue, squinting at Taako to see how this could be a trick. It seemed too straightforward and Kravitz hadn’t used those kitchens in a very long time. He’d have to restore them, but considering he’d have to restore the whole castle, he didn’t mind that so much.
Still, it would mean pretending like Taako was his prince, his husband, his lover. Really, he thought to himself. Kravitz was startled to think he didn’t trust anyone else to even come close. Even Adam—. He put a hand over his cheek and then rested it over Taako’s on top of his other hand. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” he laughed, looking at the water and their reflection in it.
The sun burst through the clouds. With Taako draped over his shoulders, their hands in each other’s beside a basket of flowers, Kravitz thought they looked like the stained glass romance stories lining the castle library. He shook his head to free himself of that fancy and closed his eyes. It would probably go a lot smoother if he kept thoughts like that to himself.
Chapter 2: Try To Keep Your Cool When You’re Thrown Into a Fire
Chapter Text
It was always strange to pack up all the parts of a person’s life. Taako fit everything he owned in a little carriage with room enough that he didn’t even need to turn into a fox to squeeze into the back. His cottage had always been one of the smaller ones with little more room than a stove and a bed. It was probably why he spent far more time on Kravitz’s roof or under his rose bushes than in his own home. He felt somewhat disappointed that most of the things he hefted into the cart were bags of flours, prized possessions in the shape of spices and heirlooms given in iron pots. Yesterday, he’d needed only a glance to tell the mirror the village lord had used had been Kravitz’s. Unmistakably so. All of Taako’s things could easily be taken for a cart of supplies.
Impulsively, Taako took one of the loose stones bordering the empty garden and dropped it in his pocket if only to make the weight of his life feel heavier.
The trip to Petit Castle was as short and unremarkable as the realization that Taako had lived most of his life in that tiny, forgettable cottage. Never felt like it, not really. If he looked at a pie chart of his homes, they’d be but slivers beside what he’d spent there. He took the stone from his pocket and blinked down at it. Even if he left Petit Castle when Kravitz inevitably tired of him, he’d probably be sent to a different cottage. It would be weird not to be neighbors with Kravitz anymore.
Maybe he was making a mistake.
The carriage pulled beside the foundations of the old castle. The stables were the only thing left standing of it except statues with bumps of stone clinging to the outline of squares and circles that had once laid out the castle’s grandeur. It was all overgrown with black-stemmed cold iron and diamond roses that sang when the wind thought to move them. The flowers were cut through with a worn dirt path that led to the gardens proper, an oasis of green splendor that practically shone behind the stark claws of the grasping field.
Taako hopped out the back and opened up the trailer. Philippe stomped his hoof and snorted as Kravitz emerged from the cellar doors next to the stables. “So where’s my kitchens?” Taako called, dropping a bag of flour on the path. Kravitz was strong, Taako would make him carry it inside.
Turning, Kravitz gestured vaguely at a thorn-covered bulge in the landscape Taako guessed was some sort of chimney at one point. “Over there, if I remember,” he answered and threw Taako’s flour over his shoulder as if it weighed as much as Taako’s fox form.
Hot, Taako’s mind supplied. He shoved that thought down with an attentive flick of his ear and swish of his tail. “Where are you keeping me until you can put a bed by the stove?”
Kravitz laughed, face lighting up the dawn. It nearly pulled Taako’s heart to a stop, but he’d gotten used to restarting that before it had a chance to send him crashing. “I do have kitchens down there. Not big or fancy, but you’ll have to live with it until I can restore the castle,” he smiled and held out his arms.
Taako’s mind was still bleached white from Kravitz’s laugh and he stared at Kravitz blankly. Kravitz cleared his throat and his eyes flickered to his stuff in the cart.
Right.
He turned fluidly and grabbed a box of pots, handing them to Kravitz. Kravitz took them with a smirk. “Oh don’t look at me like that,” he growled at Kravitz and grabbed a sack of clothes. “You better have a closet for me to hang my shit.”
“After all your protesting, I’m surprised you didn’t bite off your new ribbon, Taako,” Kravitz grinned as he started down the steps. Taako’s eyes widened and he patted his chest to the sound of the silver bell jangling. In his rush to get things packed the night before, he’d completely forgotten about that damn ribbon.
“You were right,” he covered. “Red is my color, Beau.” More laughter echoed up the stairs. This was the first time Kravitz had let him come into the castle’s tunnels. Anticipation and excitement bubbled in his chest and he tried not to let it show. Letting his eyes adjust, he paused just inside the shadows on the staircase and took in the view.
It was dark and surprisingly warm. Candles lined the walls, almost certainly lit by magic considering the sheer number. There were crystal and metallic roses down here, too, but they weren’t the stark colors that covered the castle grounds. They were golds and lapis and platinum, casting rainbow colors across the walls as if they were under the aurora in a sea of twinkling, rose-shaped stars.
He’d always wondered why Kravitz bothered to keep everything coherent.
Still, Taako could recognize a thing of beauty when he saw it. He followed Beau down the hallway. Each room was neatly piled with cloth-covered junk. None of it surprised him considering how Beau was when it came to maintenance. The ones not brimming with antiques were utilitarian save a room with a big basin of steaming water that dipped into the ground and looked like it was better suited for a bathhouse than a home. He guessed Kravitz afforded himself some luxury.
Taako was totally going to take advantage of it later.
The actual bathroom area was separate from Kravitz’s spa. Next to it was what looked like Kravitz’s study. The room was so filled with books, Taako almost closed the door on instinct to stem the flow of the flood that was surely going to fill the entire place. He plucked one off the top of one of the teetering towers. A compendium of gardening techniques. “Oh boy, handsome, this is a thriller,” he grinned. Kravitz rolled his eyes and moved on without him. Taako ran his finger down the spines of the tower, tracing Kravitz’s interests. This was the part made him afraid of living with Kravitz. Taako couldn’t carry a conversation about advanced music theories or the genetic profile of blue roses. They’d exhaust all the things he could use to make Kravitz laugh and within a week, Beau would be bored of him.
He poked his head into the kitchen only to see his flour already dropped off. It would make due as Kravitz said, but wasn’t better than the one he’d had in his cottage minus some extra elbow room. There was only one more door where Kravitz had probably disappeared to.
The bedroom wasn’t large – probably one of the servants’ quarters – and Kravitz had dragged a big mattress into it. A plush rug with a pile of folded blankets sat before the hearth. Taako almost took offense, thinking that was where Kravitz expected him to sleep until he noticed a nearby stack of dog-eared paperbacks.
“You can take the bed if you want,” Kravitz offered as he folded trousers over his arm. He moved the trousers to another closet of work shirts. “I usually fall asleep on the rug as it is. We can try to find you a mattress and clean out one of the rooms tomorrow. You can use this closet if you want to stay here.”
“This is fine until you restore the castle,” Taako grinned and looked over the bed. Silk, padding, and layers of comfort. He dropped his sack of clothes and launched himself at it, burying himself under silk and whatever fuzzy cloth Kravitz’s other blankets were made of. Groaning, he rolled around under the blankets. “It’s so so-oft,” he purred and stretched out. “You can bring the rest in while I stay right here, right?”
The bed dipped and Kravitz lifted the blankets, peeking under them. “If you want blankets for a bed of your own, I’ve plenty of those,” he snorted with a hand wave around the room. “To answer your question, no. I’ll leave it out there to get rained on.”
Taako snatched the blanket from him and pulled it around his shoulders like a cloak. “I’m your guest,” he said with mock offense.
“You’re supposed to be my husband,” Kravitz shot right back and tugged at the blankets, trying to pull them from Taako. “You deserve none of my hospitality.”
“You’re the worst husband, Beau,” Taako complained, dropping onto his side so Kravitz couldn’t take the blankets easily. “Most of it is too heavy for me to carry anyway. I’m but a modest or whatever fox.” He held his arms straight up for effect, ears twitching and tail swishing with barely held in laughter.
Rolling his eyes, Kravitz grabbed him by his forearms and hauled him to his feet. “Then you have to direct me where to go,” he persevered valiantly.
“Oh no, Beau,” Taako gasped, falling into his arms. “I’m feeling very weak. Must—. Revert to—. Fox form.” He turned into a fox and Kravitz stumbled forward to catch him with a grimace.
“You’re very lucky you’re Barry’s brother-in-law,” he huffed and put Taako around his neck.
Taako hummed and nuzzled into Kravitz’s hair, tangling one paw so he didn’t fall off. “Not so sure about that. Have you seen what he calls formalwear?” He nosed Kravitz’s cheek to keep his attention as he went out to the cart again.
“Unfortunately I think most of the isle has,” Kravitz scowled and leaned against the side of the cart. “Don’t think you’ve gotten out of this conversation, Taako. This isn’t going to be a free ride for you.”
Well, he had predicted Kravitz would grow tired of him. He hadn’t expected it so soon. “You want me to cook, clean, wash your drawers, your majesty?” Better to start this out the way it was going to go.
“No,” Kravitz replied, pinching his nose in exasperation. “I’d rather die as a rose bush than let any man think I’ll pull his wagon for him because he hitched it to mine.” He let out a breath of air and sat on the back of the cart, settling Taako in his lap. Taako considered hopping down. Kravitz had that look on his face that came with a serious conversation. “I thought a lot last night and—. We’ve always done things fifty-fifty when we’ve done it together. That doesn’t need to change now unless you want it to. Really, any man on the isle can be a prince, but you’re the one I trust the most to be able to act like a husband. Is my trust misplaced?”
Taako thought he should have expected things like ‘trust’ and ‘together’ right out of the gates. He pressed his head to Kravitz’s stomach. “You’re unfair,” he whined, then leapt onto the cart and stretched out as a human on his back, tail lashing between his legs. “No,” he muttered. “Your trust isn’t misplaced.” With a wave of his hand, the boxes and crates picked themselves up on four legs and began marching down the stairs.
Kravitz smiled and scooted back to lean over him. “Thank you,” he said softly.
You’re unfair, Taako thought as the sun touched the amber in Kravitz’s eyes. He wrinkled his nose and looked to the side. “Are we gonna have some lame chore board? I’m not sure I’m ready for that level of commitment, my man,” he told Kravitz instead.
“If you do the dishes and cook, I’ll do the rest,” Kravitz grinned and leaned back on his elbows. “Do we want to talk about how committed we are to the husband act now or later?”
“Later, please gods,” Taako replied immediately, throwing his arms out. At least the chores weren’t too heinous. He didn’t trust Kravitz anywhere near cookery and he certainly wasn’t going to trust him near his cookery so he’d already figured on playing chef. Maybe the dishes would become negotiable.
Laughing, Kravitz pushed himself to his feet. “I’m going to go get some real work done,” he smiled and guided the cart towards the gardens.
By real work, he meant caring for the roses. Which Taako was more than fine with watching from the cart when it started with Kravitz unbuttoning his shirt and taking off his binder without the slightest bit of hesitation. It was one thing seeing Kravitz’s muscles in action and another entirely to get an opportunity to see him put them to use with a bit of sweat. Taako had more than a good idea that at least some of the flexing was Kravitz quite aware of his audience.
Show off.
Eventually, Taako reluctantly retreated from the heat to the cool basement. While Kravitz may have enjoyed sweating, Taako was much happier without. His luggage had sat itself in the hallway. He pulled out a wand and directed them towards the kitchens and bedroom. If Kravitz was going to be restoring the castle that afternoon, he didn’t see much need to unpack the kitchen things. Still, it was obvious Kravitz wanted to continue sleeping in the cellar.
Weighing his options of an opulent room in a drafty castle versus a fireside bed with a handsome man sprawled out on a fur rug and no risk of sunlight ever intruding over his eyes, he decided he preferred the latter. With a long-suffering sigh, he forced himself to unpack his clothes and other personal effects. Taako’s sack of clothes was a pocket dimension; there were a lot of things to sort. He made many trips between the bedroom and spa, catching himself humming the songs Kravitz hummed while they waited on the ferry in the morning.
Finally, he let himself fall backwards on the bed with a groan. He hated moving. Whining, Taako pulled himself to his feet and turn on Kravitz’s record player before collapsing again. His game plan was to get annoyed enough at it to turn it off. The song played, soft and sweet. He rubbed his face and rolled, shrinking into a fox as he went. The bell on his ribbon jangled and he huffed. He’d forgotten to take it off again. Taako scratched at it with his back legs, but somehow ended up with his paw hooked under the bow.
He rolled around, snarling in frustration and trying to free himself but only ended up getting his front paw stuck as well. Turning into a human here wouldn’t be good. Taako winced at the imagined pain and huffed in anger. Considering he wasn’t choking, he had a good idea that Lup had something to do with his current predicament.
Of course she would curse the ribbon.
Of course.
The fix would probably be asking Kravitz to free him. He narrowed his eyes at the wall and rolled on his back. This was as transparent as telling Taako she’d be over for dinner and Kravitz showing up saying Lup had asked if he’d join them. Tragically – of course – she and Barry would have an unexpected inconvenience.
He sighed and his heart squeezed painfully. Kravitz didn’t see Taako as more than a meddlesome neighbor. On some days Taako could count himself as a friend to Kravitz, but a part of him couldn’t imagine Kravitz ever being married. He didn’t seem to have a radar for romance. Taako had all but told him the truth plainly.
I love you.
He opened his eyes and hugged his tail awkwardly. No matter how much he tried to throw it from his mind, his stupid feelings haunted the last few decades of his time with Beau. Like a little kid with a crush, he’d picked on Kravitz until he’d ruined any chances of his affection being seen as anything but a trick. He squeezed his tail.
Really, any man on the isle can be a prince, but you’re the one I trust the most to be able to act like a husband.
It was unfair to throw him a bone that Taako would gnaw at, starving for any sign of affection. There was no substance to convenience but Taako knew his dumb heart would chew it to pieces to reignite the passion he’d thought had died. Truthfully, he’d gotten used to the rhythm of unrequited.
They could stay friends, couldn’t they? He closed his eyes, mind wandering over the shape of Kravitz’s lips and the way he made ‘Taako’ into a song.
“How did you get stuck like that?”
Taako startled out of his snooze with a bark as the bed dipped. He tried to jump to his feet out of instinct but ended up ungracefully flailing off the bed and onto some pillows he’d kicked off. Kravitz covered his mouth and tried not to laugh.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he grinned and scooped Taako into his lap. The record player had spun out behind him. “What did you even do?” As Taako predicted, he freed Taako’s paws by tugging the ribbon off easily. He set aside on the side table and Taako growled at it, diving back under the covers.
“Lup cursed it so I couldn’t take it off,” he whined and nosed Kravitz’s stomach to demand attention.
Kravitz rolled his eyes, but scratched Taako behind the ear. “How awful,” he snickered.
Taako dragged the blankets over himself and curled against Kravitz’s side. Kravitz grabbed the edge and dragged it completely over Taako and onto his lap, laying back with one hand still petting Taako’s head. Irritated, Taako popped his head out from under the covers and half-sprawled over Kravitz’s chest. “It was awful, my man,” he complained, shoving his cold nose against Kravitz’s cheek and making him flinch.
“C’est la vie, p’tit chaton,” Kravitz laughed and swatted at Taako playfully. “Go make dinner. It’s already sunset.”
Taako sat up, tail wagging. “Did you restore the castle?”
Snorting, Kravitz waved his hand vaguely. “The bottom floor at least. Yes, your big, fancy kitchens are ready to be used,” he answered and grunted when Taako leapt off him as a human. “I put all your kitchen stuff in there and put down some rugs so your feet wouldn’t get cold. Am I still the worst husband?” He flashed Taako a smile, only one eye open.
Taako wanted to kiss him but settled for a lopsided grin. “You’re still in the running, Beau,” he winked and ran to the closet to grab his apron. “Judges have yet to reach their final verdict. Keep up this behavior and you’ll end up disqualified, my man.” He paused at the door to look back at Kravitz. Kravitz was already fast asleep and Taako’s face softened.
Right, magic didn’t come naturally to him.
Some of the gold and crystal roses were missing from the walls. Taako had suspected, but the swaths of stark roses suddenly missing from the castle courtland confirmed it. Half the castle sat perfect and shining marble in the moonlight. Gold and crystal shone in rose patterns inlaid in the stone, emerald hanging like vines with thorns of gold from half finished archways. Roses made of ruby, sapphire, topaz, and gems he had no name for lay in various stages of blooming. Taako reached forward and touched a diamond rose on the cusp of bloom. It opened under his fingers and shifted in the wind.
When he had joined Lup, he had been told that the Isle was made of magic greater than life and death itself. He knew that. He’d known it since his sister – missing twelve years – had written him to tell him she had died. Yet, he’d still come to her at her beckoning three days later and hugged her so hard neither could breath.
Taako touched his reflection, ears flicking forward. Like the roses he would forever be in the prime of his life. The man he was when he was insulting three kings to their faces with each thinking it was about the other two and not the one that’d unremarkably fallen from a tree. Well almost. He grinned and moved on to the barren entryway. The attributes of a fox had been painted over his actions as a man, but he didn’t much mind them or no longer feeling a storm in his aching joints. An eternity of arthritis wasn’t something he would have been able to take with as much good cheer as Ms. Pickle. Besides no one much liked rose bushes without their flowers, he supposed.
Even if his charms didn’t work on Prince Beau, that didn’t mean they didn’t work.
If Taako was being frank, he did enjoy making a traveling mercenary or merchant work for it, too. He smirked to himself as he found his way to the kitchens, tail flicking. Since Taako had been in a few castles, he felt as if he’d been in them all. The kitchens were where he expected them. He took a deep breath after he opened the kitchen door, taking in the smell of burning wood from the fire Kravitz had left for him.
This was the only part of the interior Kravitz had bothered to gild as much as the outside. It was beautiful, but not entirely functional. Taako grabbed a shining, beautiful pot and punted it into a pan with a laugh. Ms. Pickle had complained about the kitchen for years; said she had never been gladder for a simple stove in her life when Kravitz had let all the servants leave. A fancy kitchen how people who didn’t really love kitchens expected it to be.
A pretty illustration for a storybook.
Taako took out his wand and sent his luggage to unpack itself while he eyed the stove. “You’re going to cooperate with me, castle,” he told it. He knew – very well – that each region of the Isle had its own ideas about who ought to have been able to change it. The stove groaned and he zapped one of its austere legs, sending it spilling forward with a horrible screech of metal.
“I didn’t give you a choice,” he said simply. The ceiling creaked. He shot a hole above himself, stark roses clattering to the floor.
The newly remade castle – wisely – remained silent if sulky.
“Good,” he purred and got to work.
It took Taako a couple hours, but he soon had his kitchen made mostly how he wanted and a dinner to show for it. He turned some of the wine into better wine and tossed enough for two into a basket. The rest he threw into the icebox he’d transmuted from one of the pantries.
Kravitz was still asleep when he crept downstairs. A few minutes of rummaging and Taako found a light table in one of the rooms. He put it on the rug and magicked the legs to be short. Quietly, he set out the food in the center.
Feeling his good mood, Taako made a trip upstairs and grabbed some wildflowers from around the stables. Philippe whinnied at him from his stall, stomping a hoof. “It’s more for the food than him,” Taako told the horse resolutely as he stood up. Philippe shook his mane at Taako and snorted. “Rude.” Taako flipped him the bird as he descended the stairs. He snatched a vase he’d seen earlier and put some waters in it before plopping it in the center of the makeshift dinner table.
It was a beautiful dinner of sauteed chicken with fresh blueberry sauce, a small bowl of butternut squash soup, and apple-cucumber salad with a desert of citrus lemongrass rice pudding. He’d paired it all with blueberry wine. At least Taako thought it was beautiful. He grinned to himself and sat on the side of the bed.
“Beau,” he hissed then cleared his throat and said it again, louder, “Beau.”
Kravitz mumbled something in his sleep and his eyes opened wide. He sat up and nearly startled Taako off the bed a second time. His face softened when he saw it was only Taako. “Oh, hello. When did I fall asleep?” He looked around, eyes immediately catching on the table.
“Only a couple hours ago, my man,” Taako grinned and wondered if he should draw attention to the mess of bedhead Kravitz’s curly hair had wound up as. “C’mon, before dinner gets too cold.” Naw, he thought. The bedhead could stay.
It – maybe – made Kravitz’s beauty less disarming. More devastating.
They ate dinner by the fire with each a cup of wine at the ready, laughing and talking. By the time they’d dug into desert, they were both a little drunk and feeling the long day set in. After dinner was cleared, they fell asleep curled on the rug with the awful paperback Kravitz had to show to him open on Taako’s head still in Kravitz’s hand.
Notes:
All the receipes in this fic are things I think someone mostly fox would enjoy.
Chapter 3: So Much Soul Inside My Bones
Chapter Text
The problem with people deciding what you were after you had been, was that people are much more complicated than concepts. For example, wolves are patient animals. They meet their goals with endurance and collaboration. They’ll hunt animals for days, waiting for their chance to strike.
Lup – the wolf of the trickster twins – was only patient in comparison to her brother.
In truth, she wasn’t very much like a wolf at all. She was far too impatient to not accidentally wander into Kravitz’s courtyard, avoiding the sharp bristles of the stone and glass roses that had been peeled back by a few degrees. She passed a fox on its way out from the courtyard. They had a rock in its mouth with two paw prints sprawled across it in ink. A fan of Taako’s, she thought to herself with a snort. Taako was sprawled out as a fox on top of the stables in a patch of sun, but Lup didn’t think the roof would hold her as a wolf or human. She knew that was part of the allure for her brother sleeping there at all. “Taako,” she howled up, putting her paws on the stable door. Taako’s tail twitched, but he otherwise didn’t move. Philippe whinnied at her in offense and she turned into a human to wipe her muddy pawprints from the stable door.
“Taako,” she hollered and threw a pebble at Taako. “I know you’re awake! One of your subjects went right past me.” He cracked his eyes open and glared at the horizon. “Taako!” She threw another pebble and he smacked it out of the air.
“I’m ughhhh-p,” he grumbled and stretched. Taako sat on the corner of the roof, looking down, big tail curled over his paws. “I had a bet going with myself that you’d at least give it a week, bubala.”
Lup leaned back and crossed her arms. “And let you drive Kravitz out of your life for once and for all?” She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Uh-uh. This is Fairy Isle and I am goin’ to make sure my brother gets his happily ever after.”
“I am happy,” he complained and hopped down, turning into himself as his paws hit the ground. He stretched and pulled his hair back into a ponytail.
“I didn’t say you weren’t,” she grinned and lightly punched Taako’s shoulder. He leveled a look at her and held out a finger as if he was about to tell her off.
Kravitz’s head popped out of the cellar and he blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light. “Hello, Lup,” he called.
Taako shot Lup a warning look. She grinned and turned, waving. “Hey there, Beau! I came to get an invite to your sick party.”
Laughing, Kravitz set an armful of random items down by the stables next to clusters of other furniture. “Of course you can come. Unfortunately, Barry nor I have a choice about the servants returning to the castle. I’d be a tyrant not to extend choice to all the Isle’s residents,” he answered primly, easing into the prince persona Lup had only seen a couple of times. “Besides,” he sighed grandly and turned to the castle. “It won’t be any fun without all of you.”
Taako snorted and Lup laughed outright. “What? I’m not enough fun, homie?” Taako jeered and put his hands on his hips.
“You’re the wrong kind of fun, Taako,” Kravitz smirked and crossed his arms. “You’d get too bored and spike the punch.”
“Hey, I made no promises I wouldn’t do that,” Lup snickered. “Our government could use a night of loose lips.”
“First of all, I wouldn’t spike the punch like my pleb sister. I would pour wine into a bowl. Spooning it into a cup makes it punch,” Taako argued, hands waving wildly like he did when he was nervous. “Second, being fake married means you’ve gotta put up with me. Getting royal assholes drunk is a personality quirk.” He put a hand against his heart dramatically.
Kravitz guffawed and gave Taako a look of amused disbelief. “You were the ones who didn’t want to discuss the legal jargon of our pretend marriage contract, Taako. Maybe you should start making a list,” he scoffed and turned back to the half-built castle. He waved his hand before Taako could retort. “Sorry, I would love to chat more but I really should be putting the castle back together.”
“Of course,” Lup grinned at Taako behind Kravitz’s back.
“Yeah, whatever, I’m gonna make that list on real paper, Beau,” Taako muttered and summoned a comically long scroll with an oversized quill.
“That’s fine,” Kravitz called over his shoulder and retreated into an empty doorway. “It’s what I told you to do!”
Taako beamed like he’d won something and wrote on the scroll before starting to wind it up. “You’re in so deep you don’t even know you’re swimming down, Koko,” Lup observed and jabbed him in the arm.
His smirk faded. He snorted contemptuously, shoving the scroll into one of his pouches. Behind him, the roses flew from the castle grounds and clumped against the castle. Its walls built themselves in splintered marble, stained glass bridging window frames like ice forming across water. She watched it, mesmerized by the amount of love pouring into the stone. “Hey Lulu,” he started and shoved his quill into another pouch. Lup blinked and shook herself out of whatever trance she’d been caught in.
“Mhm,” she practically sang, tugging Taako towards the village. She knew he was going to try to insult her to change the subject and they really needed to get on with their day. There were too many outfits to make for dawdling.
Taako clasped his hands together, index fingers up. He pressed them to his lips thoughtfully. “Do you remember how our Aunt kept setting you up on all those dates?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, turning into a wolf. At her side, Taako turned into a fox.
“You’re—,” he growled, but she cut him off by bolting towards the village. “Hey! I wasn’t done,” Taako called and sprinted after her. “Lup! My legs aren’t as long,” he whined and barely kept at her heels.
“Lup!”
That was a different voice. Lup turned her head to see Magnus running as a bear next to her. He was much bigger, but kept her pace excitedly. “Why are we running?!”
She barked a laugh. “Goin’ to the village,” she answered shortly. “You?”
“I saw you running!” He grinned at her. Of course that was his answer. She laughed again and skidded to a stop at the start of Main Street.
Cinderella’s castle twinkled beautifully at the end, sprawling and wonderful. The shops were colorful with mismatched architecture making it feel louder than it had been for decades. A few tourists wandered around aimlessly. A couple snapped pictures of them on their phones or cameras. Film crew, she noted at the other end of the street. Some of the shops were for niche gifts surrounding particular tales, but most were functional and served their daily lives. No one really liked going to the village so they made due with whatever the shops could keep stocked. Except Beau and Taako, she thought to herself.
Magnus stopped next to her as she scanned the street and sat down on his haunches. “Aww. It was so short,” he sighed.
Taako tumbled into Lup’s legs and dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. “‘M dyin’, I’m dyin’,” he wailed and rolled onto his back, paws up with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth for dramatic effect.
“Seem fine to me,” Magnus grinned and picked Taako up as he rolled onto his back, setting Taako on his stomach. “Hey by the way, Ango has been asking about his next magic lesson,” he started.
Taako sprang to his feet and off Magnus. “Whoops sorry busy busy day gotta go bye bye Maggie,” he hollered as he dashed off towards Barry. Lup never thought she’d see the day when Taako happily ran towards her husband and had to laugh to herself.
“Bye Taako,” Magnus shouted after him.
Her wonderful husband was seeing off a gaggle of laughing tourists with new outfits already in hand in front of their shop. She caught herself staring and shook her head. Barry turned her way and stopped his conversation just to wave. He turned back to the tourists and pointed at her, exclaiming, “That’s my wife!” She sighed softly at herself with a small smile. It was probably a family trait to fall hard for relentlessly sweet nerds.
“Don’t worry about the magic lesson, Mags,” Lup shrugged and stepped into her human form. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t no-show. Later!”
“Thanks, Lup,” Magnus grinned and stretched out across the sidewalk to nap. “See you later, wolf-inator!”
Lup headed towards her tailor shop and pulled Barry into a quick kiss by his waist. “My brother already get inside?”
“Went through the window,” Barry laughed and gestured at the open shutters. She snorted and shoved the door open, bell jangling overhead. Inside, sewing machines buzzed on their own with ribbons and buttons flying onto simple outfits they put out as less expensive, ready-to-buy apparel. Her wand flicked over and directed the fabric traffic. Barry took a seat at his workstation and pulled Taako’s measurements from their files.
Taako flicked lazily through a fashion magazine. “How bad is my wardrobe about to get on a scale of one to glam metal?”
“French rococo,” Lup answered and snatched her wand from the air. “Yours too, Barry.”
Barry and Taako both groaned. “Babe,” Barry pleaded and stood. “I promised myself I’d never wear another powdered wig.”
“City council wants accurate, so we’ll give them their nightmare,” Lup insisted and summoned their fabric swatches. “We can modernize it a bit anyway. Use the style, make it—. Not brocade. No powdered wigs.”
“Oh thank gods,” Barry sighed in relief.
“Knee breeches,” Taako argued and slammed his fashion magazine on the coffee table.
Barry was already thinking, grabbing his pencil and drawing something out. She felt the touch of his magic pouring into the paper. He turned around a picture of Kravitz in simple cotton whites under a black jacket splashed with a basic pattern of watercolor crimson roses adorning the bottom with simple gold gilding along the hem. A white rose was tucked into his hair.
Nice, Lup thought. Barry knew her brother better than she’d thought.
“Oh bite me. That’s a low-fuckin’-blow,” Taako growled and collapsed back on the couch. He threw an arm over his face as Barry started laughing. “How dare you use this against me. We’re no longer brother-in-laws. We’re enemies from henceforth, Barold Jacob Bluejeans,” he swore and then turned his head to look at the picture again with a groan. Throwing his hands in the air, he glared at the ceiling. “Just fuck me up. I don’t even care!”
Lup grinned to herself and summoned the black fabrics. She dismissed most of them and went for something that soaked up the light. Too good to pass up, she thought to herself and summoned another of flowers swaying under a bright summer day for Taako. Both would need some adjustments to fit the sketches she could hear Barry firing away. They were magical fabrics, but if the council wanted to give tourists a magical time then it seemed fitting. Even if it was ever-so-slightly illegal.
A minor inconvenience.
After Barry finished sketching, she sent her wand off to create the pieces while Barry kept watch and worked. The shop had another few hours until it closed so she and Taako went out to hold down the fort for wandering tourists. Mostly, it was Lup sitting behind the cash register and watching Taako wow tourists.
“Y’see this?” Taako took one of the dresses off the shelf and pressed it against his body, eyes fluttering as he dipped. The gaggle of middle-aged women eyed him skeptically. “Won’t find this anywhere else,” he promised and tilted his head, ears flicking. They both knew tourists were drawn to them because they were immediately apparent as Tales with the tail and ears.
“I just can’t see myself in it,” one of the women laughed and waved her hand. “Seems a bit too small.”
“That’s why you come to a magic tailor, bubala,” Taako grinned and snapped his wand off the wall where it suddenly appeared. He blew on the tip of his wand and swirled it around to capture a thread of magic from his lungs. It was more showy than he needed, but that was why the tourists were here. He pulled it tight and cast the line over the woman. She twisted, stumbling as she turned. The dress appeared on her, fitting her perfectly and flatteringly. She smoothed her hands over it in awe as the other women clapped.
Taako winked and bowed with a burst of sparkles from behind himself. The woman admired herself in the mirror, fingers playing with the neckline. Of course, she bought it. They all bought things, Lup shaping them to their sizes as they chattered excitedly. Taako lost interest and wandered off to flirt with two young men.
Some things didn’t change even if Taako was supposed to be married. She rolled her eyes and let Taako do all the talking to make the sales while she played on her phone. She’d sent a letter to Carey and Killian that she was hoping would reach them any day now. It was still between Sirius and Luyten 726-8. Ugh she thought to herself. It’d been nearly a week since she’d put it in the mailbox. Mail was so slow, but they never checked social media. Surest way to get ahold of them was to send something physical.
Sunset came to Main Street quicker. It dipped low over the buildings and most of the tourists had spluttered out on the last ferry. The only ones left were camping or staying at the only two castles still operating as hotels. Nothing really happened here at night so no one stayed very long. There used to be three ferries that ran, but that’d been a long time ago. Lup turned the open sign over and turned the lock. At least they’d made enough for the day to justify turning the sign back the next day. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled herself away from those thoughts. “Wanna cook some dinner with me, Koko?”
“Sounds good,” Taako called from between the racks of clothes, head popping out. “Go get it started, ‘m gonna check my phone for somethin’.”
She gave him a look but went upstairs to the kitchen to begin dinner. It didn’t take Taako long to finish whatever he was doing and join her. While they had a few more hours to kill before Barry finished, neither had the energy for extravagant. They decided to make baked porkchops with rice salad and butter-roasted sweet potatoes.
“Enjoyin’ your time livin’ with Kravitz?” Cooking gave room for talking, but Lup wasn’t going to waste any time.
Taako paused in mixing the salad. He cleared his throat, ears flicking back. “It’s livin’,” he sighed.
Something he wanted her to press him on. “I’d hope so,” she laughed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Well? Everything you’d hoped pretending to be royalty would be?”
“‘Taako,’” he started in a mockingly prim French accent, “‘any man on the isle can be a prince, but you’re the one I trust the most to be able to act like a husband.’” Taako stopped and met Lup’s eyes. “He’s literally a prince from a storybook renown for his beauty and kindness. What do you think it’s like?” He splashed some dressing on the salad.
“Hell,” she snickered.
“It’s hell!” He paused and laughed with an appreciative look at Lup. “He gets really irritated if I move too much of his stuff around. Gets up at the crack of dawn. He smells like sweat and dirt because he works outside all the time. For a prince, he sure doesn’t value fuckin’ table manners,” he complained, waving around a wooden spoon.
Lup rolled her eyes and lifted herself to sit on the counter. “And?”
Taako’s face softened and he lowered his hands. “He puts a vase of fresh roses on the kitchen windowsill every morning,” he murmured and met her eyes with a hint of a smile. “Dorkvitz got all flustered when I asked him about it. Told him it must be someone stealing his roses so he owned up to it.” It’d been what he really wanted to tell her about. His barely checked grin said that much. “Kitchen looks out on the garden. He leans against the sill when he takes a break, smiles like he won a million gold if I let him try a bite of whatever I cook and his eyes light up when I give him a glass of water.”
“Gone, gone, gone,” she sang and playfully clapped him on the shoulder as she jumped to the floor. “Was he hoping you wouldn’t think it was him? He’s literally the only other person at the castle.”
Taako laughed and opened a cabinet, jumping up as a fox to reach a bottle of spices at the top. “He’s a master of fuckin’ deception, sis,” he snickered and picked the spice bottle up carefully in his teeth.
“Maybe he lied about the roses so you wouldn’t know he was the rose thief all along! And the roses are people!” Lup gasped and covered either cheek in play horror. The spices barely landed on the edge of the counter as Taako spat them back out to laugh.
Everything was going the way she’d hoped they would.
By the time they were done, Barry had a bundle of clothes ready to go. Including a package she hadn’t seen Taako ask for. She had an idea he had talked to Barry privately, so she didn’t ask. If he wanted her to know, he would be purposefully obtuse about it so he could feel like she’d dragged it out of him.
Taako tied it into a sack with half the food they’d made. “If that’s everything,” he smiled, “I’m goin’—.”
Lup shook her head. “No no no,” she grinned. “You’re headin’ to your new home in some of your new clothes.”
Groaning, Taako ran a hand down his face. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled. He held out his hands for the neatly folded suit Barry had held back.
Notes:
Thank you all for your wonderful comments and kudos! It truly brightens my day and makes this project feel all the more worthwhile.
Title of this chapter comes from Ultralife by Oh Wonder which I wish I could have worked into the fic somehow because it’s a very Blupjeans song.
Chapter 4: The Moment Always Vanishing; Oh, How I Couldn’t Be What You Need
Chapter Text
When Barry had lived as a very small teacup with a little chip near the handle, he’d been no more than ten. The whole of his childhood memories were as a little teacup, cowering under his adopted mother’s spout anytime they’d had the misfortune to run into Prince Adam. That had been what Barry feared when his adopted mother wrote him a decade after she’d died. An eternity condemned to being a little teacup.
Yet, Barry had still died at forty-three after a lifetime seeking immortality that wasn’t that. No, he’d not feared death but living forever as a child in the shadow of a monster. The Isle had seen fit to leave him that age when he awoke in his too-small bed beneath the kitchens. It seemed children could not live happily ever after.
Those words hung in every shop window in letters of every culture whose legends held no end. Gods lived and died on the power of belief. So, too, did Barry on the absolute knowledge of every child who read a story and took for granted an eternity of smiling princes and princesses and teacups with chips near the handle. Even when their stories ended at ‘for all their days’, children could not help but to dream they still lived.
Yet, there was no consensus of what their happiness had become. Those choices were left to them and the Earth, an eternal beacon of what humanity had been and what it could become. Barry smiled over the rim of his glasses at Beau who couldn’t take his eyes off Taako. He stood in the moonlight by the cellar doors, starstruck and slackjaw. The crystal roses scattered rainbow lights across the reconstructed pathway. They wreathed every window of the castle. Barry had forgotten how beautiful it had been.
No, he thought. It had never been this beautiful. This was how Beau remembered it. A thing of roses and light.
“Barry and Lup made me wear this dumb thing,” Taako complained without really looking at Kravitz.
As if coming back to life, Kravitz started and averted his eyes with a rattling breath. “It’s—,” he tried, hands capturing starlight instead of the word he wanted.
No, Barry thought again as he and Lup eavesdropped from their carriage. This was how Beau wanted to Taako to see the castle.
“Not my style,” Taako sighed and fiddled with the lacey cuffs. “But I’ll live. Things I gotta do to be a prince.” He sighed dramatically and fled down the stairs with an embarrassed laugh.
It’d been centuries since Beau had stopped letting Adam turn every rose into a reminder that it would yet wilt. It felt longer since Barry had seen Beau give someone a rose and hope to share the joy it brought him. For the first time in decades, Barry saw a small smile touch Beau’s eyes.
The castle bloomed with color in the starlight.
Tears pricked the corner of Barry’s eyes as he let his eyes wander over the shape of the castle.
“Babe,” Lup soothed at his side and put an arm around his waist.
“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed and sniffed, brushing the tear away with a finger. “I think I forgot what it looked like.” He cleared his throat and turned towards Beau staring down the staircase like he was lost. “Beau,” Barry called, startling him from whatever he was thinking. “I’m going to show Lup my old workshop!” Beau gave him a go-ahead wave as he followed Taako down the stairs.
Laughing, Barry hopped down and held his hands out. Lup jumped from the carriage and he caught her under the arms, pecking her lips as he spun her safely to the ground.
They wandered away from the stables, hand-in-hand. Barry paused frequently to admire the changes. The roses glowed brighter and cast rays of impossible color. Every shade seemed warm against the stone. Even in the stained glass, the figures were softened from the vivid detail Barry remembered. No more a grotesque beast weeping over a wilting rose, but a shadow of a horned creature who left tears across the glass case that protected a rose whose petals fell as light. They had been built the first time from Adam’s memory and his pain had stained the stones, but this was Beau’s version. This was the one people read in their cardboard storybooks.
The one Beau had first put in the glass for grandchildren who had yet to be born. Like everything Beau touched, Adam had loved it when Barry had wheeled his bed into the ballroom to look at the finished work. He’d spent his final days looking out the tinged window while Beau sat cross-legged by his feet, reading aloud whatever he could get his hands on. If Barry really thought about it, he supposed these softened versions were closer to what they’d actually looked like.
Lup ran her hand across the last piece of the story, smiling at the detail in the flowers. “Cute,” she commented and tapped the denim-jeans approximation of Barry. “Was this in-style even then?”
Barry laughed and shook his head. “No, I think that’s a new addition,” he grinned and looked up at the wedding scene.
Adam had only visited once after he’d gone to the Isle. It’d been startling to see him young and unbothered by court formality beside Beau who was well into his sixties. There were always bigger things for Adam than the castle, than his family, than his spouse. Beau had watched Adam’s horse disappear into the sunrise from a rocking chair beside the stained-glass window where they lived happily ever after and said to Barry, “Mark my words, I’ll only see that man again when the world isn’t big enough.”
He let his eyes drop and squeezed Lup’s hand. Sometimes, he was still scared what he had wouldn’t be big enough one day. He leaned over and kissed Lup’s cheek. She turned her head and gave him a quick peck.
“There’s some statues over here,” he laughed and threaded their fingers together. “Exciting, I know.”
“Babe,” she assured him by swatting at his arm. “I’m tryin’ to suppress not bein’ awful nosey about everything around here. All your weird stories are suddenly making sense.” Barry laughed and felt his heart soothed, knowing she wasn’t aware of how much she put him at ease.
He couldn’t remember half the stories about this place he’d told, but he was surprised that Beau’s version of this place had come through. Beau had never been terrified of Adam or the arching peaks of the castle that had stabbed the sky. Now, they only brushed the clouds that passed. Light spilled from the doorways and archways, inviting and warm instead of skewed in threatening angles from dim, flickering sconces. Twilight wrapped around the statues of ancestors who no longer loomed lofty and unattainable, but held out their wisdom with open arms.
This place was awash in the best part of Barry’s childhood. He pointed to a statue of Adam’s father and leaned against Lup’s side. “The old king made Adam take in the village orphans before the whole story. Said it’d be good for him,” he told her with a little smile. The statue hadn’t been sitting before, but it sat now with a book open in one hand and a quill resting against the pedestal in the other, legs hanging over the edge that obscured most of the gold name-plate.
Adam’s father had outlived Adam; Barry, too. He imagined this was from one of Beau’s memories of him. “Looks like a huge dork,” Lup commented and hopped up by the statue’s side to lean over the book it was holding.
Barry snickered and leaned an elbow on the marble. “Where do you think Adam gets it?”
“Never met him, hun,” she answered easily.
“Oh yeah,” Barry smiled sheepishly. “Keep forgetting you got here after The Divorce.”
She shrugged and waved away his concern. “Oh. Capital letters event, huh? Never got the impression it was awful from Bookworm.”
“It wasn’t, really. Come on, workshop is just over here,” he deflected and looked away. She gave him a look, but didn’t press.
It wasn’t really the divorce that Barry didn’t want to talk about. It was all the things that led up to it. He frowned and touched one of the crystal roses as they passed. Even if Adam had first shaped the Isle’s version of the castle, it had stopped being Adam’s long before he’d left. That had hurt Beau most of all.
His workshop was a vague thing. It reflected Beau’s barest hint of how to make clothes. He grinned and flicked the sewing machine. These certainly hadn’t been around then. “Kinda looks like our shop,” Lup laughed and picked up some fabrics.
“I don’t think Beau remembers what it looked like before. A lot less spell books for starters,” he agreed and sat on a plush couch.
“Spell books?” She thumbed through some very dated paperbacks of high adventure. “Thought the magic thing came after death for you, babe.”
“Real magic did. I dabbled when I was a regular person. Potions, tinctures, meditation, salt circles, magnetic bracelets, orgies, summoning demons—,” he listed them off on his fingers.
Lup cut him off with a laugh, springing into his lap and putting her arms around his neck. “Wait wait wait, run that last one by me again?”
“Orgies?” He grinned and leaned in close. “All the rage for staying young. One time, I took three—.”
“No, no,” she laughed and poked him in the cheek. “Listen babe, I know you and I love you, but I cannot believe you bought into that magnet bracelet stuff.”
Barry hid his laugh in her hair. “It was a different time,” he protested and stood while holding Lup, falling back on the couch a moment later. Well, no one expected Barry Bluejeans to be strong, he thought to himself.
She swooped him into her arms and spun them once, kissing his cheek before setting him down. “Sure it was,” she snickered.
He shook his head and couldn’t help but smile at her fondly. “Do you want to look at the kitchens before we go?”
“Hell yeah!” She grabbed Barry’s hand and tugged him towards the castle.
After Adam had left, Barry had watched Beau let the castle fall. He reached out and touched a beautiful hitching post as they passed, exactly the way he remembered it being; golden and playful, Philippe cast in metal with a sweet beast talking at his side. All this time and he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten what it was like to live in Beau’s castle. Beau had shaped Barry’s childhood into something kinder.
Even with his childhood terror, Barry tried to soften his thought of Adam. This was a bad place for the man, the source of so much trauma and deep loneliness; of course he would only remember it for the shadows it cast. Me too, Barry thought and smiled to himself. His own painful memories had overshadowed the warmth of his first home.
“I think Kravitz finally saw somethin’ tonight, babe,” Lup grinned and threaded their fingers together.
Barry smiled to himself and tilted his head to look up at the castle catching clouds on its towers. “No,” he smiled to himself, “he finally figured out what he was seeing.”
Lup rolled her eyes. “Same difference,” she snorted. She brought their hands to her lips and kissed Barry’s knuckles. “‘M just happy we won’t have to hear Taako whine about it anymore.”
“We both know he’s still going to whine,” he pointed out.
“Listen,” she started as they passed the entranceway. The inside of the castle was as opulent as the outside. “You gotta let a girl dream, hun.”
“I don’t know,” he said skeptically and tapped his chin. “I can think of a better use of that time.”
Lup guffawed and turned suddenly. She grabbed him around the middle, putting her chin on his shoulder. “That a promise?”
“I am very good at keeping them,” he smiled sweetly.
She kissed the corner of his jaw. “You are,” she hummed and let him go.
“I love you, Lup,” he whispered, voice amplified in the echo of the great hall.
Her ears flicked forward and her tail wagged. “Love you, too, babe.”
Even if it didn’t last forever, he still wanted to look at where they’d come from and see the moments as something that changed the moonlight to honey and roses that spilled across the marble. Beau Kravitz had looked out that final window and seen what Barry hadn’t as he watched Adam ride away, but he saw it then. Beau had seen his world awakening to the call of the sunrise, their story bathed in the caress of light Adam’s passage was but a speck within. This world Barry had found with Lup would never be too small for Barry. He had to hope—. No, he knew that love would be enough long after their tale had closed to sustain their own happily ever after.
Notes:
Today’s chapter title comes from Antebellum by Vienna Teng. It is an apt description of how Kravitz feels towards Adam.
Chapter 5: It Could Be the Stars Above Are All to Blame
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Steam twined around Kravitz’s hair. He steadied his hands on the sides of the tub in the flicker of candlelight. Unconsciously, he reached for the mirror he belatedly remembered wouldn’t be there. It was still a rose, rooted to the balcony of village lord’s estate. His hand connected with the handle anyway.
For a moment, Kravitz blinked down at it. All the dings and scratches he expected of it were there, claws scoring the back where Adam had – as a beast – dashed it against the wall in a fit of frustration. This mirror wasn’t missing the little silver rose at the bottom of the handle that Kravitz had accidentally knocked off when he first moved out of the castle. He traced its silver edges and frowned. It’d been made unconsciously, the Isle giving him what he expected.
He sighed and rose from the bath, drying his hair with a towel. Well, it wasn’t like he’d be getting that mirror back anyway. No point sitting in the bath and agonizing over it. His heart momentarily started up a stutter. Ah, right, something to agonize over. Taako had let him take the bathroom first. Which meant he was likely still dressed like an actual prince.
Kravitz pressed the towel to either of his cheeks and tried to keep the goofy smile off his face. Hell, he’d practically stumbled over his own feet caught as he was by the way those clothes had transformed Taako. Groaning, he scrubbed the towel over his face and threw it in the hamper. He dressed as quickly as he could in his nightclothes.
A crush – at this point in their long-standing friendship – would do no more than earn a few decades of teasing. He thumped his head on the doorframe, hand resting on the knob. Sure, Taako was attractive, but Kravitz had always known that.
He was kind when he wanted to be, too. Caring, in surprising ways. Funny as a matter of course. Most importantly, Kravitz found it very hard not to be happy when he was with Taako. He wondered for a moment if it was the outfit that gave him the crush or made him aware of it.
They weren’t productive thoughts as far as thoughts went. Shaking his head, Kravitz charged out the door. No point entertaining it any longer when Taako was a man who went for what he wanted. Kravitz was simply not something Taako wanted. It stung to think, but the sting would help peel it away.
At least, Kravitz hoped this was only a temporary glint of moonlight caught in his eyes.
Taako was sprawled across the rug by the fire, a play projecting across the wall from Kravitz’s old viewing disk. Dancers glided across the stage in perfect form. Even as inelegant as he was posed with his hair a rumpled mess and ears pressed forward, Kravitz couldn’t help but be drawn to the way the cloth hugged every one of Taako’s curves. He cleared his throat and turned his eyes away from the most prominent display – Taako’s ass – to maintain some semblance of decency. “Bathroom’s free,” he murmured from the doorway, hand resting on its frame.
Taako rolled onto his back and shut the viewing disk off. “Before I go,” he sat up and crossed his legs. “Did you actually wanna finish that story, handsome?”
Kravitz moved forward and blinked. “Which one?”
Taako stood and scooped up the trashy romance from the floor while Kravitz stared in horror. “This one,” he smirked and waved it around.
“I didn’t,” Kravitz whispered, covering his face and groaning. “I did.”
“Liked this part about—.”
He cut Taako off by snatching the book from him and throwing it in the fire.
Taako burst into laughter as Kravitz determinedly watched the book burn. He wheezed and clutched Kravitz’s shoulder for support. “Everyone is into weird shit, bubala,” he giggled between Kravitz’s shoulder blades. “You don’t gotta salt and burn the evidence.”
Kravitz turned to Taako in total seriousness and took his face in both hands. “There are things people shouldn’t know about each other,” he hissed and smushed Taako’s cheeks.
Taako glanced away then back at Kravitz’s face. “Yanno I got fahx’s shtuff, hanshum?” He put his hands on Kravitz’s forearms and leaned forward like he was telling a juicy secret. Kravitz leaned away with a glare. “I shwear to the gahshs, gotta knot on my—.”
“Things people shouldn’t know!” Kravitz let go of Taako’s face and clapped his hands over his ears. “My gods, man!”
Taako threw himself on the bed laughing while Kravitz glared, scandalized. Yes, Kravitz couldn’t have absolutely any interest in Taako. None, he thought, hoped, wished. He lost his composure and covered his mouth as he joined Taako’s laughter.
Maybe another, quieter part thought, hoped and wished for this lightness in his heart to never end.
Notes:
Since I revised last chapter and took out a good portion of this, I decided to give it its own, short chapter.
Chapter title comes from Shivers by Rachel Platten.
Chapter 6: You Wrote This Script, I Lived In It, So Take a Bow
Chapter Text
“No.”
Taako rolled on his back with his paws up while Kravitz glared. He tilted his head to the side and gave Kravitz big eyes. “Please,” he tried, kicking his paws.
Crossing his arms, Kravitz sat on the bed and gave Taako a bemused look. “No,” he repeated coolly. Taako rolled over and tunneled under the blankets, popping out by Kravitz’s knees. “No,” Kravitz insisted and poked Taako on the nose. “This is what we agreed.”
The fire had long been put out by Kravitz and breakfast of blueberry waffles with a side of straight blueberries for Taako sat on their makeshift dining table over the rug. It was made from a mass of wild blueberries Kravitz had collected for him the day before. They were sweet, but the gesture had been sweeter and Taako had found himself making something special with them. If the way Kravitz had devoured breakfast was any indication, it had been worth getting up early. “I got up early and made breakfast, my guy,” he whined, laying his head down and huffing.
“My condolences,” Kravitz shot back by ruffling Taako’s ears. Taako whimpered and whined, crying. Kravitz threw his hands up and sighed in exasperation. “Fine,” he groaned, shaking a finger at Taako. “Just this once,” he swore and lifted Taako around his neck.
“Of course, of course, my dude,” Taako grinned, more than happy to have gotten his way.
“You’re impossible,” Kravitz complained as he collected the dishes. He started up the stairs to wash them in Taako’s kitchen.
“Not impossible because you’ve never met anyone like me before,” he grinned in return, winding a paw around Kravitz’s hair so he didn’t fall. “You’re impossible, too, by that metric.”
Kravitz snorted and paused at the top of the stairs. “I’m not—.”
The plates shattered across the ground.
Taako looked around warily, ears high and alert. “Babe?”
Philippe kicked open his stable door with a scream that made Taako cower into Kravitz’s hair. Staring only forward, Kravitz mechanically grabbed Philippe’s reins and swung himself onto his bare back. Kravitz leaned over and grabbed a riding crop from the wall. Taako dug his claws into Kravitz’s shirt and caught the white glow of Philippe’s eyes.
He’d only seen this happen once. A tourist had stolen a little stone from Cinderella’s castle. The woman had cried in fear as rats and birds tore her suitcase apart until they’d gotten it back. Sloane had stood there, impassively staring forward, sightless with an expression that spoke volumes of violence.
Nothing left Fairy Isle, Taako had learned. Once outside the village proper, its denizens would hunt down anyone who dared to steal. Kravitz’s eyes glowed as white and blank as Philippe’s.
His ears went low and he clung on tightly, desperately pressing his wet nose against Kravitz’s cheek. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. “Hey, c’mon Kravitz,” he hissed as Philippe took off towards the village.
Taako craned his neck as they passed the main hub of the Isle’s cottages and saw other servants of Petit Castle grabbing whatever transportation they could to follow. They approached the sea between the Isle and the rest of the world at breakneck speed. “Hey, hey, we can’t get across the water—.” Taako clung to Kravitz, desperately pawing at him to get him to stop.
“Hi-yah!” Kravitz shouted and cracked his riding crop across Philippe’s flank.
Philippe made that horrible scream again and the forest wolves who’d once attacked him long, long ago, echoed the call with their howls. Adam’s bloodhound ran ahead of them, baying.
Barry caught up to them in his and Lup’s horseless carriage. His eyes were as full of white glow and sightless as Philippe’s. Gods, Taako thought. Lup was going to be so sad if they lost their cart to this madness.
Philippe’s hooves touched the water and did no more than send ripples across its surface like a raindrop. Fish surged under his hooves, glowing in an array of sickly colors as they followed the screams and howls of this horrible parade.
Barry’s cart did the same, Adam’s bloodhound continued his looping cry of the hunt ahead, and servants ran across the water as if it was simply another road to follow. Philippe jumped over the jut of The Eiffel Tower, hooves clattering in splashes as they partially sank into the water. Taako felt himself shaking in fear and he froze, closed his eyes to try to be anywhere else. Somehow, he would have been more at ease had they sink into the sea. “Please, please,” he whispered to no one.
The villagers shouted in terror as they passed through. Ahead, he heard a strangled yell and a snarl. Taako opened his eyes in time for Kravitz to leap off his horse onto a wagon and rip off the tarp. Adam’s bloodhound snarled again, keeping the driver in place as Kravitz went through their wares. For a moment, Taako thought the driver looked a bit like the mage who’d turned Beau’s mirror into a rose.
That seemed odd.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the driver cried hoarsely. “I went too far. I thought I was still within the village.” They covered their face and hunched their shoulders.
Kravitz uncovered a hoard of treasures. Wordlessly, he and Barry began unloading it into Barry and Lup’s cart. It was all bars of gold and silver with sacks of precious gems. There were some little baubles, but none of it looked like it matched the style of Petit Castle.
Things Taako knew for certain Beau didn’t own.
Yet, the denizens of the castle were frankly incapable – under the thrall of retrieving what the Isle needed them to return – of taking what wasn’t theirs. Lifting his head, he glared at the driver. “Where did you get all this?”
“N-nowhere,” they answered, nails scratching at their scalp. Even Ms Pickle jumped into the wagon, hefting sacks of gems into Lup and Barry’s cart as if she were not a frail old woman.
Taako’s eyes narrowed.
This was weird. For one, he was certain that excess wealth wasn’t lying around Kravitz’s castle, ready to be taken. Everything in the Tales with property was to be used as a tool or decoration. Secondly, this was more than Kravitz had complained he’d noticed missing when he’d done an inventory citing the cursed mirror from the announcement as motivation. Taako could chalk it up to forgetting what was owned, but he’d quickly found himself on the receiving end of Kravitz’s ire for not properly adhering to his system of cataloguing everything in every room. This was a man who had grown up learning to treasure every little thing he owned. Kravitz would have noticed enough missing that it’d been melted into bars.
City guard had started to gather near the gates, a small semi-circle of them urging villagers to return to their homes. The Lord – Jon, Taako vaguely recalled – approached warily. “You cannot take those,” he tried, earnestly but with a veneer of fake projection that Taako caught. It was for the villagers still within earshot, Taako realized with a jolt. “That is city property. Taking those bars is theft. We need it for food, medicine.”
“Too early to be yelling for no reason, homie. You know they can’t hear you, my guy,” Taako snapped and turned towards Jon. Jon blinked, obviously surprised to see Taako – or rather, anyone who would talk. Taako rolled his eyes. “You know the only theft here was from Isle to this wagon, asshole.”
A calculated look flashed across Jon’s face. Taako had enough distrust in most people to already be suspicious, but that was the nail in the coffin. He narrowed his eyes, hackles rising. Something was going on here. The guards stopped herding people away. Taako had the sudden impression that all eyes sat between them and the gold ingots quickly lining Barry and Lup’s cart. Jon squared his shoulders and stood at full height. “If it truly belongs to Petit Castle, what use does it serve to have so much wealth going to waste?”
Taako jumped onto the side of the wagon, tail wagging anxiously. “‘S not real. ‘S made up by the Isle’s magic, my guy. Whatever you take from the Isle, the Isle will always take back one way or another,” he argued, ears flicking down. “It does go to waste, but what do you want us to do about it? You take it, they get glow eyes, people get hurt.” He cast a look back at the driver.
“I’ve never seen so much as a single loose gem in one of the castles. Maybe the Isle is confused,” Jon objected, gesturing at the sacks of gems and ingots. “Hasn’t the Isle taken enough?”
A part of Taako was suddenly unsure. He knew the ingots weren’t Kravitz’s, but the Isle seemed to think they were. His ears flicked forward then back, tail twitching. Taako didn’t really trust anyone, including but especially entities like the Isle. Still, he had to protect one of the few people he did trust. He glared at Jon, head tilting and tongue poking out of his maw as he thought. “Where would the city get this kind of money?”
“It’s from my family’s private estate, donated to the city. We’ve melted down heirlooms, because the need is too great,” Jon answered easily like a well-oiled machine. “Maybe some gifts to the village lords from the Isle residents made their way into our collection. I doubt it, though.” He pointed to an heirloom clearly baring the Hunger Family name, dented and worn. It was in the dwindling pile of things being avoided by the servants of the castle.
How convenient. He wasn’t telling the whole truth, but Taako couldn’t figure out what he was omitting either. Taako shook himself and returned to Kravitz’s shoulders. There were too many questions here for him to continue this public forum.
“Good to see how right we were about vagrancy,” Jon went on as the last ingot hit the cart. “The Isle commanding its people to steal. What a miserable existence.” Kravitz threw his leg over Philippe and took up the reins, staring down at the driver and daring them to move. Barry took off with the cart and Kravitz stayed. Probably to make sure the driver didn’t pursue them.
Taako knew this was immature. “There will be consequences,” Jon warned gravely. Immature, but deserved. Taako plucked his wand from Kravitz’s hair. “Consequences for—.” He cast Tasha’s Hideous Laughter on Jon. “F-for—.” Jon cut himself off, grimacing as he fought a smile. “For—!” He clutched his cheeks and fell over, erupting into laughter as Kravitz spurred Philippe across the water.
The villagers glanced at each other as they passed.
Grinning to himself, Taako decided to take that as a victory. He stuck his head to the side and let his tongue loll out into the wind as they thundered towards the castle. At least he’d cut off Jon’s platform before the real harm could spread. Still, this was probably going to become a problem for all of them.
The glowing eyes gathered in the castle courtyard turned to concern. Kravitz reined Philippe to a stop in the center. Barry stood beside his and Lup’s cart, touching the wet wheels that bowed under the weight of wealth. Ms. Pickle clutched her side as Leon helped her stay upright. Everyone turned their towards their prince for direction or answers as the glow faded from him, too. He ran a hand over his face and age sank into his shoulders like Taako had never seen.
He turned his head to the village, barely catching a glimpse of Ives across the water, rockets launching eternal from her fall. A problem for all of them, but Taako had to wonder why they were starting with Kravitz.
Notes:
No good chapter title tonight whoops running low on time.
Revised: Chapter title comes from Fireflies by Violents. Mostly for that one, good line.
Chapter 7: You’re So Far Out There I Can Barely See
Chapter Text
The station slept as the barest hint of the sun started over the perfectly shaped too-green hills. Carey curled closer around her wife, not yet wanting to think about waking up. She was still somewhere in her castle and the village was waking up behind her eyelids, across the water. Ives stood in the shadow of the path hope had taken so long ago, impossibly taller as her hands stretched from Earth to usher in another dawn for humanity. Again, she stood in the smoke with everyone else who had given up the stars for that tomorrow none of them knew they’d see. They waited for the sky to fall.
The sun burst and crashed over the hill as the rockets became stars. The Isle. Kravitz would be on the first ferry with Taako in tow. Magnus would do his lap around the village with Julia. Merle would be out grumbling about his garden being better than Beau’s in every way.
Lup was in the coffee shop, lapping coffee from a bowl while Barry laid against her side with some baby clothes in hand. Hurley and Sloane were at a table, talking over breakfast. Lucretia was yawning with a muffin in one hand and pen in the other. More and more and more people stirring to take on days that had already passed under Carey’s eyes.
She felt a pulse of longing. A beat of miss this and she knew she was awake. Well, she wasn’t going to get back asleep. She groaned and threw an arm over her face as she rolled over. Her tail splashed in the water as she reluctantly wiggled free from Killian’s arms, out of the tub.
She wobbled a little as her feet hit the floor, but her brain quickly caught up with being bipedal and kept her from falling. Sighing, she jammed her legs in a pair of sweatpants and tucked her feet into a pair of slippers before shuffling into the front room. The mail was shoved through the door slot and she picked through it while her head scales fell into waves of red hair. She ripped open a little square letter from Kravitz with her claws and pulled it out of the envelope with soft-skinned fingers.
Dear Carey, it started. Another wave of letters were shoved through. She paused and watched the pile growing with dread. Carey diverted her attention back to the letter and scanned its contents.
‘... servants will be in desperate need of your abilities to restore the Seaside Castle, but your father is doing his best. Ursula said she could cover for you. She said something about owing you for a puppy? I didn’t really get it. You’re the third...’
She dragged a hand over her snout as it disappeared into a nose and a scowl.
There were a lot of letters from other Tales she imagined were roughly the same call to the Isle. Lup, Merle, Magnus and Julia, Avi, Brian, even Taako. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tossed Kravitz’s letters on top of the growing pile.
It was way too early to deal with this shit.
She blearily went over to the coffee maker and punched at its controls until it started up. Throwing some eggs in a pan, she made enough breakfast for her and Killian to get through figuring out what they wanted to do. At least, she hoped it was enough.
Carey flipped on her phone and the news spilled across the front of the glossy-black cabinets. A pretty anchor on was gushing about the Isle with someone Carey vaguely recognized. It clicked after a moment he was Jon. Except when she and Killian had left – ‘for good,’ they’d told themselves – he’d been no more than ten or eleven. Now, he looked old; well into his forties or fifties. He was the spitting image of his mother, Lady Hunger.
She frowned and turned the volume up.
“... hope to make Fairy Isle the place it once was. Bring people back to Earth who have never seen a blade of grass, much less the splendor of the Isle.”
“What can visitors expect, Jon?”
“All our tales are participating eagerly—”
Carey snorted, knowing that wasn’t true. Killian came up behind her, tossing a letter on the counter. At least Carey didn’t need to explain anything to her. She put an arm around Carey’s waist, silent.
“—and tourists can expect to be a welcome guest in any castle they choose to stay in. From the wonder of Cinderella’s Castle to—” A model of the castle appeared on her and Killian’s counter, right beside the letter. Killian squinted and pinched her fingers to zoom in on Hurley and Sloane talking. They looked angry.
Why wouldn’t they be? Carey thought as the model disappeared. Maybe one could pretend to be Princess Charming if Brad asked Brian to play Sleeping Beauty.
“—the grandeur of Beast’s Castle.” Another model popped up and they both blinked down at it.
“That’s not how I remember Kravitz’s castle,” Killian commented and spun the little model.
“The village has more economy accomodations—
“Hey, that’s Taako!” Carey exclaimed and pointed to a fox glaring down at a grinning Kravitz from the stable roof. “You think he finally made a move?”
“That’s very exciting, Jon. Speaking of the Earth, what was it like growing up...”
“Let’s ask,” Killian snickered and brought the model up on their dinner table with a ping. She plunked through the confirmation screens about long distance call costs. Carey waved her hand and the news chatter muted itself. “Hey Taako!” Taako’s head snapped up towards the screen. “You remember what you asked me when Carey and I started dating?”
“Oh gods,” he groaned and covered his face with a paw. “Please—”
“What?” Kravitz blinked between him and the screen.
“You guys kiss already or what?!”
Carey gave her wife a high-five.
Kravitz’s eyes went wide. Taako hissed and hopped off the roof onto Kravitz’s shoulder. “They’re jerks who hate that we have real plants, handsome,” he complained and buried his snout in Kravitz’s hair. Kravitz blustered and stammered something the call subtitled as ‘(incoherent)’.
He paused and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “If they’re being jerks, w-why would they ask if we’ve—?”
“Whoops gotta go see you assholes later,” Taako growled and snapped his teeth at the screen. It went blank.
Carey covered her mouth, giggling. She had a sudden feeling she was missing out that rocked her on her feet. As always, Killian steadied her and kissed her cheek as she started to cry. The news went on behind them, the Isle reflecting itself on their table’s glass like looking through water.
Ives stood on one of their dinner plates, lifting humanity to a vase of holographic flowers that waved in an imaginary breeze. Carey covered the rocket flame that fell from her waterfall. The chaos of color burst across the back of her hands. It would never be as awful as watching them leave in person, but that didn’t lessen the dark kick in her heart. No, nothing as terrible as turning her head and seeing the light fade in Killian’s eyes. They’d left for a reason.
“Can we go home, duck?” Killian whispered and hugged her tight.
Carey cleared her throat and wiped her face, scales swelling across the path of her tears. “We can take the next shuttle,” she whispered and hugged Killian back.
Maybe, she thought. Maybe the Isle was inescapable because it was the first thing that came to mind when she thought of ‘home’.
Notes:
Goooing to have to add another chapter whoops.
This chapter title comes from Wake Up by Loyd Forest.
Chapter Text
Sparks flew from Julia’s hammer. She loved this. The world fell away into a rhythm of fire, flame, and iron. She twisted the red-hot iron, drawing it into something different, something beautiful. It helped tune out the yelling, too.
“Jules!”
“Julia!”
“C’mon don’t ignore us!”
Sighing, Julia dropped the little bobble into a pool of water and shoved her safety glasses into her hair. “Taako,” she smiled and walked out of the forge, closing the door behind herself. Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught the flash of bright red hair. “And Carey? Shouldn’t you be five stars away by a pool?”
“Fuckin’ finally,” Taako complained, giving Julia a look she ignored, too.
Carey laughed and scratched the side of her nose. “Couldn’t miss all these rad parties,” she grinned and stopped waving around a gold ingot. “Oh hey, catch.” Julia held her hands out and caught the ingot Carey threw at her.
She flicked it. Yup, pure gold. Yet—. She squinted down at it. Something was off. “This payment for whatever shit you two are about to get me in?” It dropped onto her kitchen table with a heavy thud.
“I wish, bubala. Could solve a lot of problems with that much gold,” Taako groaned and sat down, changing into a fox and putting a paw on it. “It’s got some shit goin’ on, right?”
Julia tilted her head at Taako. She’d known Taako for decades. Even if he was a remarkable wizard, he was no stonespeaker. She hopped onto the chair and tapped the gold bar. “Yeah, ‘s a bit funny. How’d you know that, fox?”
Shrugging, Taako circled on the table and laid down. “Magical intuition. ‘Sides, Carey said as much,” he sidestepped.
Carey sat next to Julia at the table. “Yeah, it’s got part of the Isle, but it feels like the Abrasion, yanno? Unfinished stories,” she leaned an elbow on the table and put her chin in her hand. “But Krav’s castle went all spooky and hunted them down, so it can’t be.”
Julia had only seen metal from the Abrasion a couple times, but she didn’t need more than that to know what Carey meant. She grabbed her glasses from the counter behind her and adjusted the magnification so she could take a closer look. It had a slight, wafting aura of white. She sat back and adjusted the glasses again, watching the flames dance iridescent, flickering towards Taako as if blown by a wind.
Weird.
She leaned in again, picking out the shape of something. Gently, she reached out and pinched the edge of the gold. Slowly, carefully, she drew out Kravitz’s wedding ring. Even if it’d been years since he’d asked Julia to repair it. It was missing the sapphire that was supposed to nestle in the centerpiece of the rose and the diamonds that were lay across the band like thorns. She set it aside and took the edge of another, an exact copy of the first. The next thing she grabbed was a chain that yielded a locket Julia knew Kravitz still used to keep the portrait of his daughter in.
This wasn’t good. She pulled out some coins, too old to have been used in the village anytime in the last few centuries, but certainly not Kravitz’s. Her pile grew – into decorative saucers, wartime medals, the hilt of a dagger, the chime of a clock – until finally all that lay left of the ingot were six more halves of Kravitz’s wedding ring and a quarter of a golden rose.
Julia sat back and folded her hands, staring out the window. “Someone stole Beau Kravitz’s wedding ring at least eight times and the only portrait he has of his daughter at least once,” she said flatly, closing her eyes. “To melt down.”
It’d been so important to Beau that the locket still held a little clipping from his daughter’s first haircut. That it was original; it wasn’t a memory.
Whatever locket he had was only Kravitz’s memory of it. He didn’t even know.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who did this?”
Carey and Taako exchanged a look. Taako sighed and turned back to himself, plucking one of the rings from the table with a frown. “Maybe the city council?” He let his eyes drop to the locket. “He wears it at night, but said he’s too afraid of losing it to wear it during the day.”
Julia kicked her feet and puffed out her cheeks. She shoved away from the table. “Right! I’ll get the boys and some tire irons,” she nodded and hopped off her stool.
“Hell yeah!” Taako grinned and grabbed an empty bottle, attempting — and failing — to smash it on the side of the table. She plucked it out of his hands and set it down on the table. He looked reasonable remorseful.
“Yeah!” Carey jumped to her feet, fists up. “Let’s fight the whole city council!”
Laughing, Julia leaned against the leg of the stool. “I was mostly joking, but I do want to talk to the others about this,” she reassured them. Carey plopped back into her chair and Taako went back to fidgeting with the trinkets spilling across the table. “They could be doing this to other Tales. Someone may’ve heard something they didn’t know was important,” Julia went on and crossed her arms, scratching her beard as she thought. “Maybe I should set Angus on it.”
Taako groaned and leaned forward to look down at Julia. “I don’t want Agnes in my business, Jewel beetle. That’s a big pass from Taako,” he growled, jabbing a finger in the air around her nose.
“It sounds like a very interesting case, sir!”
Julia pursed her lips to keep from laughing as Angus darted forward, dropping his book bag by the door. “Mom, can I—?”
“Of course,” she answered as Taako opened his mouth, his finger already wagging. “Your uncle Taako will help you get up to date while I go talk to The Weekdays,” she said breezily as she plucked her phone from the counter. She snapped a picture of the trinket table before she started towards the door.
“Taako is not a babysitter!” Taako hollered after her as she shut the door, already concentrating on the screen.
She knew he’d be fine, but shot Magnus a text anyway. He replied by blowing a kiss at his phone from his desk and, ‘im sure he loves that x’D’. Julia smiled to herself and nearly walked straight into a tree.
Right. More important things to think about than how goofy her husband was.
She sent the other dwarves the picture she’d taken and a rundown of what was happening in the group chat. Plus an immediate calendar event to meet at the library. If they couldn’t figure it out, Lucretia could give them some direction and Maureen had coffee.
There was something foul afoot and Angus wasn’t the Isle’s only investigator. Afterall, he’d learned most of his tricks from her and what Julia hadn’t been able to teach to him, well—. She opened her contacts and tapped on ‘Grandpa’.
Notes:
Sorry this took so long! Many of you know I was actually running The The Adventure Zone Candlenights Exchange 2017 plus my brain completely shutting down on the writing front. X_X
Chapter 9: They Dilate When You Hold Me Close
Notes:
If you’re looking for the update, it’s the new chapter 5! Chapters 1-4 have been heavily revised.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The day seemed to reflect the task. Clouds hung heavy, threatening the Isle with its ire. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, gathering all the light that tried to cast itself across the land. It kneaded it into the lumpy clouds and rolled it back from the horizon. Taako sat on the steps of the castle, Kravitz’s locket in hand. A copy of something made by an unconscious gesture. All Kravitz had to do was reach for something that was supposed to be and there it was. The Isle told the story as they expected it. Even if he hadn’t reached for it, it would take a month and come back on its own.
It was such a pretty thing. The chain was the perfect length to hang a heartbeat from the thing that Taako had fallen in love with. The sight of it had been enough to drive the copy that hung around Kravitz’s neck deep into his heart. He’d taken it like he took every fit of misfortune.
Kravitz had passed a hand over his face and said nothing.
Like a coward, Taako had bolted from the scene of the crime. This wasn’t what he was equipped to deal with. He hugged himself and leaned forward. A sob echoed up from the cellars. Taako tightened his grip, nails digging into his sides. If he was a real husband, he would be down there by Kravitz’s side. It was better for both of them that Kravitz had never noticed his affection.
Never would notice.
No matter how many jabs about kissing. No matter how many dinner dates. No matter what, it was better that he left things here.
He stood up and turned towards the castle. It was probably better to sleep upstairs. Taako could leave his feelings on these steps and forget what it was like to wake up next to Kravitz where they’d fallen asleep reading. If he couldn’t do this much for Kravitz, he didn’t deserve the unconscious brush of his hand over Taako’s or the poetry he mumbled to himself in the mornings, leaning over a book while he combed his hair. He scrubbed his hands over his face and thumped his head on the archway.
This would never really be his story.
His story was one of trickery, not romance. He’d died alone in his fifty-eighth winter. Lup’s stories were ones of mischief to make good, but Taako’s were not. Of course someone had imagined her living happily, but Taako—
Taako had never asked Lup how she’d died. He was too much of a craven child to broach all the things that would tumble from that conversation. It had always been his way, he thought bitterly. Running was what he was good at. And yet, he thought. He was hesitating. Now, he stood upon the threshold of a different ending.
No one expected him to change things now.
His eyes narrowed at the stables and pursed his lips. Philippe stood next to the open doors, huffing and nosing the corner of it worriedly. No one had ever expected much of Taako.
Taako put a hand on the carved stone and he took a step towards the cellar. He took another. And another and another and he turned into a fox to dart downstairs. He skidded to a stop in front of Kravitz’s bedroom. Kravitz was curled on the bed, crying into a pillow.
There was nothing Taako could do for him. He bounded up to the bed and nosed Kravitz’s cheek. Kravitz turned and grabbed Taako around the middle, hugging him to his chest, close to his broken heart. Taako pressed his face to Kravitz’s collarbone and changed, arms settling around Kravitz.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, locket still tangled in his hand.
“I don’t remember my mother’s face,” Kravitz sobbed into Taako’s neck. “I can’t forget my daughter was real. I-I can’t forget her because she wasn’t part of my s-story.” He clutched Taako’s shirt near his shoulder blades, fabric stretching painfully over Taako’s shoulders.
Taako swallowed thickly and looked up at the ceiling. “Tell me about her,” he whispered.
“Th-they thought I was too delicate for children,” he mumbled into Taako’s hair. “A-and they said she was too unlike me. Told me sh-she needed to be more careful, more delicate. She’d never live long enough to marry someone who could rule.” He leaned back to see Taako’s face. “She never married, but they were wrong about everything else. She was the best thing that ever happened to this world.”
Taako ran a hand through Kravitz’s hair encouragingly. “Adam died before he could see what she became. I lived long enough to be a grandfather of six,” he smiled at Taako.
“Thought you said she never married,” Taako commented, tangling their fingers together between their bodies.
Kravitz laughed and tapped his finger to his lips, sniffing. “Don’t tell me I need to tell you about the birds and bees at your age,” he grinned and Taako laughed. “She was indelicate. Unfortunately, my first grandson was delicate. Coward didn’t even fight his own duel when he thought his station as heir with five sisters protected him from having manners. Always tried to teach that boy better, but he had no mind to listen to his, quote, ‘crazy grandmother’, unquote. Well, his ‘crazy grandmother’ was the one who fought his duel for him at age seventy-three. Eliza said not to do it, ‘make the bastard fight his own battles’, but there was a lesson for my grandson in this even if it was my last. I bet my grandson that if I won this duel, he would renounce his titles and become a monk. In return, if I lost I would stop embarrassing him and go back to only wielding a needle.”
Taako’s face softened. “Is that how you died?”
“Oh, I never lost a duel,” Kravitz said with a sudden, arrogant flash or his eyes. “Didn’t lose my last one either. I did have a heart attack laughing at the look on my grandson’s face when I was declared the victor.”
Taako snorted and then cracked up, pressing a hand to Kravitz’s heart. “What the hell,” he giggled. “What a way to go, my guy!” Kravitz leaned his forehead against Taako’s, joining him in his laughter. “Did he do it?”
“Do what?” Kravitz leaned on his elbow, looking down at Taako.
Taako rolled on his back, one hand resting on Kravitz’s hip. “Did he renounce his titles and become a monk?”
Waving a hand, Kravitz snorted and put a hand unconsciously on top of Taako’s. “It’s customary to write a letter before a duel, in case you don’t make it. I said that had I died a loser, bury me with a needle in hand so it could never be said Kravitz’s didn’t keep their word. If I died a winner, well—,” he wagged a finger at Taako. “I told Eliza in my letter to wait until that boy had resolved to do his end of it and shown his lesson was learned. Let him live as an oath breaker if he never saw fit to keep his word. Moments before he took his vows, she broke the news.” Kravitz smiled, fiercely proud. “He still took every vow that did not take his titles. By all accounts, was a good king.”
Taako’s hand touched Kravitz’s cheek before he knew he’d moved at all. Kravitz turned his face towards Taako. Taako was acutely aware of the beauty that lay in his arms. “I never had kids,” he whispered. “Or a family. Used to tell people Death came for me, but I tricked them into thinkin’ I wasn’t yet done.” He shook his head with a hollow laugh. “I climbed a tree to steal apples and I fell. Woke up here.”
Kravitz squeezed Taako’s hand. “Why were you were stealing apples?”
Taako snorted, looking away. “I was hungry and—.” He paused. Something about it didn’t sound right. Taako could swindle anyone out of food. “Someone poached a fox,” he said softly, voice finding the story that felt unfamiliar. “She had kits. Taako isn’t one to have a bleedin’ heart, but they were starvin’ and cryin’. Foxes make awful noises when they cry, yanno.” He turned his eyes away. “Broke my leg. Dragged myself back to their cave. Let the damn things have all my food, put it out in a big feast for them. Enough to last a while. Leg got infected. I think I hallucinated teaching them how to talk and swindle,” he laughed sheepishly, scratching the side of his nose.
“There were other foxes. I think I passed the time tellin’ ‘em about me. ‘M good at talkin’ about my past exploits even if the dumb foxes didn’t understand,” he went on. The memories were there, but so hazy. An audience of foxes, listening intently, a litter of kits curled on his lap nibbling blueberries out of his hand.
No, he guessed. He hadn’t died alone. His tail flicked, ears twitching. He’d always thought he could understand the foxes because he was one since he’d come to the Isle. “I’ve never heard a person who knew all my stories,” he murmured, toying with a lock of his hair. “But foxes—.” Taako grinned up at the ceiling, knocking away a tear from his cheek. “Foxes know all about Taako. Probably think I’m insane thinkin’ foxes can talk, but—.”
“Taako,” Kravitz cut him off with a laugh. “I’ve had deep conversations with teapots. Besides, we have a lot of foxes who visit the Isle. They like my garden. I know, because they’ve told me so.”
“Hah,” Taako hissed and tugged at an ear in embarrassment.
Kravitz squinted down at him. “Wait, did you not know foxes can speak English? French, too. Well, all kinds of languages, really. Aren’t you their king or something?”
Taako turned his burning face into the pillows. “Course I knew,” he mumbled, muffled.
Laughing, Kravitz wrapped his arms around Taako and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for sharing with me, Taako,” he whispered and Taako swore Kravitz pressed a kiss to the back of his head. His face burned brighter.
The fire had burned low behind Kravitz. Taako turned his head and traced the halo of light around Kravitz with his eyes. The locket glinted as a bright reminder of why he was here. He touched it with two fingers, bringing its edge to his palm. Mirth faded from Kravitz’s face and he wrapped his hand around Taako’s, clutching the locket close. “Can you do something for me?” Taako blinked up at Kravitz and nodded slowly. “Keep the one you have,” he murmured, finding it in the sheets. “Even if it’s a memory, I want you to have it. Better than going to waste in a room here.”
Taako freed his hand and took the locket, draping it around his neck. “Can you get the clasp for me, handsome?” Kravitz put his hands over Taako’s and took the chain, fingers fumbling with the latch. Taako made him pause by putting a hand on either of his cheeks and turning his face towards his. “The foxes never forget my stories. Tell me all of hers and I’ll make sure she’s never forgotten, Beau.”
The latch found its home and Kravitz dropped his hands to Taako’s shoulders. “Taako,” he whispered with a gasp of a laugh. A spark curled in the air between them and Taako slid closer. Kravitz caught Taako’s locket then let it go, nudging Taako onto his back with a hand spread over his heart. Taako reached up and captured a stray strand of Kravitz’s hair that hung in his face. He tucked it behind his ear so he could watch the glow of the hearth play across his parted lips. A moment ago, it was inviting; now, the fire burned the breath between them. Taako drank in Kravitz’s dark eyes, too drunk on and afraid of Kravitz’s desire to do anything with it. Maybe time would stay at bay if he didn’t move. Otherwise, the longing stamped across Kravitz’s face could be lost if Taako gave time its chance to catch up, to see what Taako wanted and change what he saw. Kravitz seemed to have no such qualms; he leaned in, nearly bridging the gap between their lips. Taako remembered to breath and leaned up to eagerly welcome Kravitz, hand sliding to his waist.
“Hey!”
Both their heads snapped up. Kravitz startled back from Taako as if guilty. Lup burst through the doorway with Magnus on her heels, Julia and Angus both slamming into Magnus’s back with a whumf. Carey and Killian were only a few steps behind, crowding the hallway with six other dwarves.
Julia, stumbled forward, waving her hands. “Okay, we think we figured it out,” she grinned, eyes gleaming. Other faces began to appear around them. “And we think we have a plan.”
Taako cursed his luck as Kravitz sat up excitedly, kiss long forgotten. He supposed there were more important things, but he wasn’t happy about it. “Learn to knock, my dudes,” he scowled and threw his legs over the side of the bed.
Lup changed into herself and grinned at Taako. “Were you doin’ somethin’ that would require knockin’?”
“Aw,” Magnus smiled and Taako shot him a seething look.
Taako’s scowl deepended and he bit his tongue. “More important shit. C’mon, give us the deets,” he said instead of answering.
There were many looks exchanged, but Julia spared him by getting straight to business. After all, they only had two days until the party and that was where the city council said this all ended.
Notes:
Sorry for adding yet another chapter from my original projected number of 7. :s I want to make sure the pacing for this is good.
Today’s chapter title is from Sleepy Eyes by Elohim, Whethan. I’m sure I don’t need to explain the deeper meaning here considering the chorus is, “Kiss me with your eyes open.”
Chapter 10: Through dream land's happy isles to bear thee!
Notes:
Sorry. There will be another chapter, but I figured I’d stop holding this one hostage. There were major revisions to previous chapters.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After so long bringing the castle together, Kravitz was glad for the party to finally come. He swept eyeliner carefully over his eyelid and sat back, tilting his head this way and that to make sure everything looked in order. Nothing could be out of place or their scheme could be exposed. No one had ever bested him in a duel and Kravitz wouldn’t lose his home in one either.
He could hear guests passing by outside the door, excitement and anticipation as clear in their voices as it rang through the castle. It felt like only yesterday since he’d raised the stones from the courtyard roses. Every window adorned itself in tinted glass, motifs of roses and romance scattered throughout. He had embellished a little to theme each room after more than his own story.
Shakily, he twisted the little gizmo of a watch and feeds popped up around his head dizzily. He focused on the social media buzz around the Isle. People were posting pictures of their rooms and using a lot of exclamation points. Without meaning to, he scanned the feeds for ‘Adam Kravitz’.
Instead, he found ‘The Queen of Ravens’ and couldn’t help but smile. A part of him hadn’t expected his mother to come all this way, but was glad they’d given her the room that was all quilts and worn rocking chairs, warm and dark. It’d been tucked downstairs with her in mind. He’d have to try to find her before the party, hopefully with Taako in tow.
“She’s going to start calling him her son right away,” he laughed to himself. She’d always seen right through Kravitz.
Taako appeared in a towel in the bathroom doorway, water still dripping from his tail. “Practicing your lines, handsome?”
Snorting, Kravitz waved his hand to dismiss all the holograms. “Practicing my patience is more prudent. It’ll be my undoing if I strangle you in the middle of the feast,” he flashed Taako a smile and tried not to let his eyes linger too long on the low dip of the towel. It’d become a bad habit of his to be hyper aware of Taako’s skin since— since—. Well, whatever two days ago had been.
Taako caught him staring anyway. He winked and Kravitz turned away, blushing furiously. There was a plop as the towel hit the floor. Kravitz stared down at his vanity studiously. He peeked back in time to get splashed in the face by water as Taako shook himself dry as a fox.
“Hey,” he complained, tucking a knee against his chest as he turned on the seat. “I keep telling you not to do that inside.”
All he got for his effort was a laugh. Taako Jumped onto the vanity seat beside him. “Oh don’t be sour, berry,” he snickered, pressing his face against Kravitz’s side. “You ain’t gettin’ a free show ‘cause you put a fake ring on my finger.”
“The ring isn’t fake,” Kravitz objected, sliding off the bench to step into his shoes. “It’s better than not having one at all.” He wiggled his ringless fingers at Taako. The ring he’d given Taako had been a simple silver band with a little ruby embedded at the top.
Red was his color.
“So you were lookin’ for a free show,” Taako shot back and jumped from the seat, circling Kravitz’s feet.
Rubbing one burning cheek, Kravitz refused to even look at Taako. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer or a change of topic. Whining, Taako pressed his face to Kravitz’s calf. “Oh stop it,” Kravitz demurred and picked Taako up, letting him curl around his shoulders. “You’re impossible,” he informed Taako as he leaned over his vanity to finish his makeup. “At this rate, you’re also going to be late.”
“Fashionably,” Taako added, tucking his face against Kravitz’s ear and closing his eyes.
“Everything is done?” Kravitz pet Taako’s tail idly.
“Mhm,” Taako hummed, curling in closer. “Stayed up all night with the rest of it so lemme sleep a bit.”
Kravitz sighed and went back to his makeup, watching the time dwindling. Finally, he lay Taako on the bed and went to dress. He caught Barry passing by with a tray of drinks for the guests in the castle. Barry nearly tripped over his own feet and laughed nervously when Kravitz grabbed his arm.
“Been a while since I’ve seen you all dressed up, Beau,” he smiled.
Kravitz shook his head. Barry had only dressed up in something courtly a few times. Especially with the modern sensibilities attached, it made everything seem unreal. “Same to you. Does Lup like it?” He gestured vaguely to Barry.
“That’s the only redeeming part of this night. Lup loves her dress and mine. But I think the novelty will wear off if we have to do this again,” Barry sighed and frowned at his tray.
Kravitz put a hand on Barry’s forearm. “Thank you for not making it denim,” he said seriously.
Barry narrowed his eyes and turned. “I had a good design!”
Kravitz covered his mouth to hide his laugh. “Oh,” he exclaimed, letting go of Barry’s arm. “Could you wake Taako up on your way back down? He was up all night with—.” He tried to catch a better word from the air and failed. “He’s taking a nap.”
“Sure, I can do that. Lord Jon is waiting to see you in your study, Beau,” he replied quickly, hurrying down the hall.
Of course Lord Jon was in his study. Kravitz sighed and touched a hand to his locket, hidden under the pretty layers Barry and Lup had made for him. He could do this. He could do this and not punch the bastard who had stolen from him.
The study – which had been Adam’s in name only before he’d left – wasn’t far from the library. For now, it was clean, the sun cutting through the wide windows that rained color from the stained glass roses that capped each. If the castle remained in use, Kravitz had no doubt it would be back to its natural state of scattered books and piles of papers draped over every surface near a chair. Lord Jon sat behind his desk, rolling a crystal paperweight across it so the coral inside spun like a spiral. Kravitz put a hand on top of it to stop the motion, remaining on his feet in front of the desk.
“Lord Jon,” he greeted coolly.
“Prince Kravitz,” Jon returned with as much chill to his tone.
“I’m afraid this isn’t a public study wherein this desk is for personal use,” Kravitz straightened and walked around the desk, putting a hand on the back of his leather chair. “If you wish for a writing space, might I suggest the foyer or library? If you prefer the sunlight, you can always leave the castle.”
Jon smiled, lips thin as he stood and gave an apologetic bow. He sat in the seat across from the desk, crossing his leg so his ankle lay across his thigh. “I apologize. It’s somewhat hard to distinguish the bounds of personally and publicly used with the renovations you have done,” he asserted with a little wave of his hand. “I was told this castle once had splendor.”
Kravitz remained standing, hand still on the high back of his chair. Perhaps it had been a while since he’d ruled by Adam’s side, but he was no less keen on assessing political rivals and he’d had no shortage of rivals when his daughter had ruled. “I am glad that you find the rooms for our guests no less dazzling than the one of my throne,” he smiled sweetly, running a finger along the mahogany desk. “While I am a man who enjoys platitudes, I am hosting a party this evening. Was that all, Lord Jon?”
The sun spun the glint of Kravitz’s crown across the desk between them.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” Jon said simply, gesturing to the walls of books. “You’ve done a fine job with most of the restorations, but we need to see significant improvement in behavior if we hope to see tourism bloom once again.”
“If you don’t mind—,” Kravitz started.
“Oh no, not at—.”
“Your lapse in manners is excused,” he spoke over Jon, smile tight. Jon paused before bowing his head once in apology. “As I was saying, if you do not mind the intrusion into your plans. I am curious how turning Tales to roses will improve tourism.”
Jon paused, the leather of the chair creaked as he leaned forward. “There are too many Tales for us to babysit each of you. If we can concentrate our efforts on the ones who want the Isle to succeed, then we shall do so. When we have more resources, we’ll bring the Tales back one by one,” he explained, lacing and unlacing his fingers.
“Put our lives in time-out for being naughty,” Kravitz laughed, polite and sharp.
“We are desperate,” Jon sighed, frustration easing across his face before it was gone again. “We lack medicine and our food supplies are dwindling. There’s not enough trade to even make Earth worth a merchant’s bother.” He ran a hand down his face. “People are trying to eat the fish from the sea, but—.”
“Radiation,” Kravitz concluded with a frown.
“The orphanage had to turn away three children this week,” John finished with a tilt of his head.
“Send them here next time. We’ve plenty of room and we’ll sort the food situation,” Kravitz said simply and waved his hand imperiously. “Or do you fear it would turn away tourists to see starving orphans in our austere halls? Will you turn me to a bloom for doing the good your tourists want to see, Lord Jon?”
Jon closed his eyes for a moment before meeting Kravitz’s. “We are doing what we must for the orphans. For all of us, Prince Kravitz,” he said quietly, an edge to his voice. “If something goes wrong up there, we are the last bastion of humanity.”
“Then show us some,” Kravitz replied coolly, leaning his hand on the desk.
Instead of answering, Jon glanced at Kravitz’s hands. “I see your wedding ring is missing, Prince Kravitz. Have you lost it?”
Kravitz smiled affably. The light in the windows shifted, casting the glint of Kravitz’s crown in rose red. “It’s being cleaned,” he answered and tipped his head slightly. “How kind of you to ask.”
“All our actions are only to benefit the Isle, Adam,” Jon said seriously. “We care deeply about each of you. When I was a boy, you once told me—.”
“Know what is before what could be.” The glint from his crown disappeared as Kravitz stepped out of the light and sat in the chair with a dangerous smile. “I think everyone knows your wishes, Lord Jon. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he cast his eyes to the side, picking up a stack of missives between servants.
Jon stood and bowed deeply, closing the door behind himself.
Immediately, Kravitz put down the missives and sighed. Things weren’t going to be easy, but Kravitz felt he had no choice in what was going to come. He smiled up at the camera, tucked away above his bookshelves and gave a thumbs up.
“You’re a lot scarier than I thought,” Killian buzzed in his earpiece. “Least we know what’s happening now.”
“Jon really thinks this is the Isle’s last chance, but he’s not here to prove it,” Kravitz told her quietly, biting the nail of his thumb as he thought. “He’s only dangerous as far as we need to impress him and whatever media comes.” He paused and looked through the missives. He’d glanced at them before, when guests had started checking in downstairs last night, but they’d grown. “Someone else set up that stunt in the town. Jon brought up my wedding ring to catch me in the lie about Taako. He’s not our thief, but he thinks Taako is pretending to be Beauty.”
On the other line, he heard Killian sigh and the clinking of a spoon on something. “This gets worse every minute. I’ll tell the others.” The line shut itself off before rattling to life again, “Hunger is not the cat burglar.” It went quiet again and Kravitz flicked through his papers.
There wasn’t much here besides news anchors who’d traveled galaxies, reviewers from the as close as the village to as far as the outer reaches of the Empire. People whose jobs it was to tell others which worlds were with living in, no matter how briefly. He touched the gold-inscribed ink and felt the residual magic of its printing.
As long as it had been, Kravitz had still hoped Adam would use this as an excuse to come back. He raised his hand and twisted his watch, sending holograms scattering over his screen. His fingers fumbled getting rid of all but one. Carey had said he’d get used to using it eventually.
“Here,” he sang and stretched his hand to a box on the shelf. A branch grew from the dead wood and handed him the box before laying itself across the top of the shelf, leaves taking in the sun. Kravitz pulled out his last postcard from Adam – a world with three moons and a purple sky, red dust stretching out to mountains as curling trees choked columns of rocks. It was dated over a century ago, short, perfunctory.
Beau,
Changed my URL. Use the watch I sent you to drag it open.
Jenny died. I’m okay.
I’m sorry.
Hope you’re well.
– Adam
‘Jenny died. I’m okay,’ followed by, ‘I’m sorry.’ Kravitz traced the indent in the paper. There was a touch of ink after it like Adam had meant to say more. A part of him wondered what things would be like if Adam had finished his thought. He touched the link and dragged it onto the screen.
He closed it almost immediately.
It was too Adam. One was even posted the day before, but no mention of the Isle. Kravitz closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Some part of him had assumed Adam would return when he was most needed. He tilted his head back to keep his make-up pristine.
The Isle was always his burden to bear alone.
There was a soft knock at the door. Kravitz swiveled around and looked out the window behind his desk. “Come in,” he intoned, flipping through missives and pretending to re-read them.
“You’re gonna miss lunch if you keep sittin’ in here all alone, handsome.”
Kravitz covered his big smile with the missives in his hand at the sound of Taako’s voice. Right, he thought with a laugh. Not quite alone, never quite alone. “Let me finish something,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll be right down.”
A pause. The click of heels and Taako’s hand resting lightly on his bicep. “I’m hungry,” Taako complained and leaned his hip on Kravitz’s chair. “Lemme help you.” Without asking, he took the missives out of Kravitz’s hands and flashed him a smile.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” Kravitz turned his chair and Taako let himself fall into Kravitz’s lap, spreading the missives out on the desk like a game of Go Fish.
“Lup said if she doesn’t get a nap, neither do I,” he sulked and kept his face turned forward. Kravitz was suddenly and acutely aware that he had Taako in his lap and no idea where to put his hands. He wanted to cover his burning face, but that felt like admitting defeat.
Taako sat back, admiring in his work. “The more important they are, the farther upstairs they are,” he said and tapped the cards. Kravitz started but leaned his chin on Taako’s shoulder, trying to look around him. The cards vaguely resembled the layout of the castle. “Has Carey managed to get anyone to air us live?”
“J-just local stations,” Kravitz murmured and tapped a couple of reporters towards the bottom floors that were helping them capture whatever happened that night.
“Marie Kendricks and Janet Lawrens,” Taako read aloud and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.
“You didn’t put on your crown,” Kravitz mumbled, more to himself.
Taako turned, far too close to Kravitz’s face suddenly. “What’d you say, bubala?”
Kravitz froze, whole face flushing as his mind went to their almost-kiss. “Uhm,” he managed with a hand wave, turning his head to the side. “Crown. You didn’t put on your crown.”
Taako barked a laugh and leapt onto Kravitz’s shoulders as a fox, wet nose pressed against the corner of Kravitz’s jaw. “Is that all?”
Rolling his eyes, Kravitz stood and tidied up the missives. “I’ll finish this later. It seems taking care of my husband is far more imperative,” he announced and Taako snorted, rubbing his face against Kravitz’s cheek. He stroked Taako’s ears with a little smile. “First we’re going to go see my mother.”
Taako froze and dug his claws into Kravitz’s shoulder. “Wait, wait, wait,” he hissed as Kravitz opened the door. He paused politely. “She hates me. I can get lunch by myself.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Kravitz smirked and moved downstairs. “She thinks you’re—.” He waved his hand vaguely. “You know.”
“I don’t,” Taako whined and wiggled, threatening to jump off Kravitz.
“You,” Kravitz laughed and pet Taako to try to get him to calm down.
“What does that even mean?” Taako nipped his ear and Kravitz winced, sighing. “I was on my best behavior last time she was here, my guy. She tried to hex me!”
“You almost ate her favorite raven,” Kravitz said pointedly. “She was a little upset, but I’m sure it’s fine now.”
“I didn’t know it was hers,” Taako growled defensively, hiding his face in Kravitz’s hair.
“She doesn’t hate you,” Kravitz went on, exasperated. He waved his hands and nearly knocked over a vase turning a corner. He barely caught in time and set it back carefully. “Whoops.”
Taako whined and wiggled more. “It’s a bad omen, my guy,” he wailed and several guests paused to give them a look. “She’s gonna kill me.”
Kravitz waved to them awkwardly and pulled Taako into his arms, hurrying downstairs. “Taako,” he insisted, hiding in an alcove and petting him until he looked up all puppy-dog-eyes. “You’re going to be fine, but if you don’t want to go, I won’t make you,” he smiled and set him on the bench. Taako immediately hopped back into his lap and Kravitz laughed softly.
He stayed quiet around Kravitz’s shoulders through Kravitz’s check-in with his mother. She was the same, ominous and imposing from her silhouette to her words. It was probably for the best that she only acknowledged Taako as Kravitz stood to leave. Despite Kravitz’s assurances, she was easy to take at her worst if you didn’t know to see past her rod-straight posture to the hand-made, worn shawl warming the sharp impression of her shadow.
“Taako,” she said slowly. Taako started, ears perking forward in alarm. “Do not forget you are part of this now.” She set her tea down and looked directly at him until he turned away, ears back. Her eyes slid to Kravitz’s. “Have a good evening, dear.”
“You too, mother,” Kravitz answered automatically, giving her a short bow before his exit.
“Hates me,” Taako hissed, pawing Kravitz’s collarbone. Kravitz laughed and headed to the kitchen to eat with the others. There was a buffet being served to guests in the dining room, but neither felt the need to make an appearance yet.
They sat side-by-side, thighs flush and picking things off each others plates as they ate.
In a few hours, the party would come and they would prove the Council’s wrong-doing. Then, Taako could take his own room and they had no reason to keep pretending this could work between them. He laced his fingers with Taako’s and reminded himself Taako was his friend.
His best friend.
He didn’t have to lose that the way he’d lost Adam.
Notes:
The English lyrics to Jocelyn’s Berceuse are as follows
Beneath the quiv'ring leaves, where shelter comes at last,
All sadness sinks to rest, or glides into the past;
Her sweet eyes prison'd now, in their soft silken bars,
O! my love, calm she sleeps beneath the trembling stars.Ah! wake not yet from thy repose,
A fair dream spirit hovers near thee,
Weaving a web of gold and rose,
Through dream land's happy isles to bear thee!
Sleep, love, it is not yet the dawn,
Angels guard thee, sweet love, til morn!Far from the noisy throng, by song birds lulled to rest,
Where rock the branches high by breezes soft carres'd;
Softly the days go on, by sorrow all unharm'd,
Thus may life be to thee a sweet existence charm'd.

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