Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night was alive. It was alive in the way that all the best ones are, with magic dancing through the people and the air and the ground beneath Dan’s feet. There was magic in the stars and the movement of the crowds and the laughter, bright and gold and rushing through it all. It wasn’t even his birthday, his night, and Dan could feel it.

He ducked and darted his way through the edges of the crowd. It was just people here, shoving to get closer to the heart of the parade that wound down town’s main streets like an enormous snake of noise, stamping feet, and excitement. Instead of feeling tired from a long day’s work, or annoyed at the people pressing in on him from all sides, Dan felt as though all of them were held together in the same net of night-magic, bringing celebration into them all. It was rare for everyone to put off work like this when there was always so much to be done, but a Prince’s birthday was no small occasion. The entire kingdom of Cygnus celebrated it; people rushed into their seaside town for the festivities, the merchants put out all their best, most exotic wares, and the ports were overflowing with ships bringing in goods, all adding together for a few days of hectic wonder. It could be a pain to have so many people in the streets, sure, but it was always worth it when the parade rolled around.

Dan pushed his way towards the busiest part of the crowd, where the royal family would be. Here, the festivities were in full swing. There were dancers dressed in elaborate, dazzling outfits, some meant simply to be eye catching while others took the shapes of an array of things: the silver scales of the fish that devoured the moon each night in his mother’s fairy tales; the bright, flowing fabrics in red and gold that represented the Beast-Slayer King of ages long ago; gowns made of a hundred tiny pieces of fabric in a rainbow of colors, made to look like a sea of flowers, and more. From legends to bits of everyday life to imitations of awe-inspiring creatures, real and otherwise, each caught his eye in turn as the dancers spun and shifted with the echoing beat of the music drifting down from the castle. The magic transformed them, too, until they were no longer dancers at all, but what they represented.

There were performers of every sort, too, blade eaters, singers, and acrobats, and he barely managed to keep himself from shrinking back when a tall woman with a body twisted like a snake spat green flame over his head. But the illusionist was Dan’s favorite. He made shining, feather-fine sparks of gold shoot from his fingertips, floating lightly through the air until they seemed to settle into the sky and fell no more. They lit up what felt like the whole kingdom, gold brightness dancing with the shadows across the stone path and the faces of the crowd, the light giving each person a split second of beauty before they were in shadow once more.

Dan let himself fall under the spell just a second longer before stepping around a woman with a little boy on her shoulders, smiling to himself as the baby reached up for the distant sparks, gurgling. Even the most eagle-eyed of adults paid no mind to just one more kid, not on a night like this one. It was a part of the magic, to be shielded in such a small world filled with so many people. There were groups of teenagers clumped off to the sides, talking and laughing in the shadows but never straying too far from the light of the parade, while younger children trailed after their parents and siblings. There were plenty of kids his age, running and darting through the crowd with yells of laughter just as he was, but Dan didn’t join any of them. He was here for a reason, after all.

As he got closer to the back of the parade, the crowds got even denser, until it seemed like nothing but people and joy. But he was determined, and with one more duck to the left, a side-step around a drunken adult, one more turn-- and he was face-to-face with Phil. The royal family didn’t technically join in the parade, remaining at the castle gates for the majority of the night as acts and crowds came to them. They waved and smiled, sometimes chatting with the ones brave enough to approach them, always open and friendly. Dan was glad that he’d never have to be in their place, since so much smiling seemed like it would get boring pretty quick. He was even gladder that, despite it being a celebration of Phil’s birthday, the prince wasn’t required to spend the whole parade waving.

He was standing with his family, grinning out at the crowd, and Dan was happy to see that it looked sincere. The queen’s hands were on his shoulders, but he knew it was more to keep them from being seperated in the chaos than anything to do with control. She was nice like that. After the elegant, esteemed events that sounded terrible, he’d always hear stories from Phil of young royalty who weren’t allowed to do so much as yawn without being told off for it and had to spend all day studying etiquette and history. He’d told the story with an exaggerated shudder, and neither of them could imagine what kind of life that would be. Even Martyn, Phil’s older brother and the one in line for the throne, was allowed to live his own life, though he did get a bit more training. The Queen and King were certain that their sons would learn everything they needed to, sooner or later. Dan was pretty sure it was this same leniency that allowed him and Phil to be friends in the first place, especially when it sometimes felt like they came from entirely different worlds. Phil never mentioned it, probably to spare his feelings, but Dan knew that there were places where a noble, much less a prince, giving him a second glance would be looked down upon. It hit him, sometimes, when he marveled at Phil’s fancy clothes or when his own handwriting was only as good as it needed to be for bookkeeping and not fancy script because teachers were expensive, just how different their lives could be.

But tonight was not a night for worrying about any of that. Not for him, or Phil, or even the king and queen, whose job was to worry. It was a night for celebration, a night for dancing, laughing, and getting lost in the crowd, which was exactly what they planned to do. It would have been rude to run directly up to the royal family, at least with so many people around, so he waved and waved and waved until Phil finally saw him, watching as he burst into an even bigger smile before turning to pull his mom down so he could whisper at her. Dan rocked back and forth on his feet, the tiny bit more of waiting seeming unbearable now that he was right there. She was supposed to know about their plan to enjoy the parade together, like usual, but what if she’d changed her mind? Phil was turning thirteen after all, an age that came with responsibility, while Dan still had a whole year to go. It was annoying to be so far behind, but he would catch up eventually, he was sure of it.

Mrs. Lester nodded her head yes, smiling at Dan, and then Phil slipped away into the crowd next to him. Without a word, they were off, ready to get everything out of the magic that they could. First it was back to the performers, swaying in the light of the sparks as the dancers twirled on and on until they were nothing more than a blur. Then the magician spotted them, or rather he spotted Phil, bowing to him with a tip of his hat. As he did, a whole clump of incredible, bright red flowers with their very own glow appeared, no, grew right up out of his hat, sprouting leaves and blooming and everything. They burst into giggles of amazement, and, when the flowers were passed on to Phil, Dan snatched one out of his hands, careful not to lose any petals, and set it behind the prince’s ear along with his crown, laughing. In return, he got a handful of petals thrown right into his hair and down the back of his very best clothes, though he couldn’t have cared. Instead, he just yelped, faking indignance as Phil darted away, racing to catch up with him. Phil was taller, and a little faster, but Dan was more used to crowds, setting them just about even as the ran and ducked and got occasionally yelled at for bumping into adults. Of course, neither of them were listening, not tonight.

The race stopped when they reached the seemingly endless tables stacked high with food because their hunger was worth more than pride. Kabobs of meat, pies filled with vegetables and gravy, and tiny little cups of fancy soups, all the way down to small, sugary cakes decorated in every kind of pattern and color, donuts dusted in sprinkles of sugar, and bowls of exotic sweets filled the trays. There was a massive cake, too, a few pieces missing already, though most of the revelers were still entranced by the parade. Even with the gaps, the royal family’s crest was still clearly apparent.

The deep blues and greens of the sea that had first allowed their great kingdom to prosper covered the lower third of it, and then, on a cliff that rose sharply from the ocean, was the simple figure of a man, shield and sword clutched tightly in his hands as he fended off a terrible beast, just barely out of view, but the terrible, curling flames it produced filled enough of the space to make clear the danger it held. That was their First King, the Beast-Slayer King, a very-very-very distant relative of Phil’s who had saved his small village from ruin by suggesting trade of their few resources across the sea, leading to prosperity. He had saved them a second time when, once his people were flourishing, a cruel monster of some kind had attacked in a jealous rage. What exactly the creature was had been lost with time, but even the smallest child knew that it was evil right to its very core, and used the magic that went just as deep for nothing but harm against the people.

The story and its monster had scared Dan when he was younger, but now, he simply grabbed a slice of the cake, ducking down beneath the table cloth with Phil to put as much sugar into his small body in as short a time as was humanly possible. They ate and talked and laughed, Dan slumping his back up against Phil’s shoulder so they sat in a sort of corner, his laziness winning over how bony Phil was. The night carried here too, making the little tablecloth a barrier around their very own miniature kingdom where everything was just as it was meant to be. He was so happy that his heart ached, to be here with his best friend in this land and every other.

“...And then, when Martyn’s all grown up and Dad’s passed the crown on to him, I’ll get him to appoint you to be a... a count, or something, as long as it means you get to come to everywhere with me, because everyone else will just want to talk about getting married and taxes and things like that,” Phil laughed, pulling a face.

“Ugh. I couldn’t imagine having to go to those things all by myself,” Dan agreed. They certainly sounded glamorous, but very, very boring, where everyone just worried about which of the unmarried young people danced with each other, and who didn’t dance together, and what it all meant. “And if I’m a count, then everyone will get flour from our mill, and we’ll be famous all over the kingdom!” He crowed, jumping out from underneath the table, very nearly knocking it over in the process and startling a merchant woman into falling over herself.

People were moving away from the parade and into the open courtyard now, the band that usually played at said terrible parties playing something much livelier for people to dance to. They’d both agreed that they were both too old and too young to dance, since only the little children did so clumsily and only the adults did it with grace, and they could do neither. It was sappy anyway, and everyone else their age seemed to agree. He watched for a moment as a girl reached down from a tree to pull one boy and then another up into its branches with her, clinging to it for dear life so as not to fall back down, all just a little older than him.

Still, the music had that same drawing enchantment to it as everything right then, and he couldn’t help to sway to it slightly as he and Phil stood at the edge of the crowd. He spotted the piles and piles of gifts, meant more as an act of politeness to the royal family than as a real present for Phil, off to the side, and remembered his own gift, suddenly nervous.

“Oh, I have something for you,” he said, talking loud over the din of partygoers. Before Phil could say anything and before he could think about it anymore, he pulled the necklace out of his pocket. It wasn’t anything close to the other jewels that Phil was probably going to get, but it was the best that he could afford with three month’s allowance and a little extra money his mother had slipped him, pressing a finger to her lips in a sign not tell his father with a sparkle in her eye. It wasn’t even as nice as the wedding gems his own parents had exchanged, passed down on both sides for generations before being swapped to the other with their vows, that stayed locked safely on their dresser until nights like this. It was plain in comparison, but it would be enough.

It was a medium stone, smooth and flat, about the size of a coin. The thin, silvery chain it hung from was nice enough, but what had really caught his attention was the colors of the stone. It was a strange mix of mostly blue with thin swirls of green, and when he held it into the sunlight, he could just barely see flecks of yellow and it had immediately reminded him of Phil. He’d come back every day before he had enough money just to make sure it was still there, until the kind woman behind the stand with at least three gold teeth and a nose that had been broken more than once promised to keep it safe for him.

Now he held it up so that Phil could see it, suddenly terrified that he would hate it, or that it was weird that he’d gotten him a necklace, or that he hadn’t wanted a gift at all. There was a horrible moment where Phil’s eyes went wide and he simply reached out to cup it in the palm of his hand, and Dan felt his stomach drop. Then he was smiling in that way that made his heart thump so fast without him knowing why, with his tongue out and eyes all crinked, and he let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Dan, this is incredible! You really got it for me?” He gasped, awed, and Dan smiled back.

“Yeah, it’s not anything special, but I hope you like it,” He answered, trying his best not to get shy because that would be really dumb.

“Of course I love it! I’d probably love anything you got me, as long as it wasn’t just the worst, but this is really, really great. I’m gonna wear it all the time. Hey, can you help me put it on?” He nodded, and Phil turned. His hands felt clumsy as he looped it around his neck and latched it together again, trying real hard not to think about the strange pain in his chest that just wouldn’t leave him alone tonight. Phil turned back around, looking down at the pendant. Dan only realized that he was still standing a little too close and sort of staring at him when he looked up from it and met his eyes, both of them freezing. That’s why the pendant reminded him of Phil, he thought: it looked just like his eyes. It was a distant thought, quiet under the sound of the crazy jack-rabbit pounding of his heart as the world pin-pointed down to the two of them, to Phil’s wide eyes and fast breath. Their faces were really, really close.

When they kissed it was impossible to know which one had moved closer first, or if it was both of them at once. All Dan knew was that oh, they were kissing. It was nothing more than a quick, awkward press of lips, neither of them really having any idea of what to do, but it was a kiss all the same. He pulled back, terribly afraid that he’d messed up somehow and now Phil was gonna hate him, but it was to find him smiling again, his face red in the golden glow of the magician’s sparks. All he could do was grin for a moment, their faces still close, nothing to say as the magic rushed through him.

But then Phil’s brother was calling for him and it was time for him to go and thank everyone for their gifts and wishes for another good year, and he was gone, giving him a little wave and a dopey grin before sprinting away, yelling that he was coming. Dan couldn’t mind though, not with the giddy joy settling into his heart, like he was either going to collapse or burst into song. He settled for just gazing after him, though, watching from the crowd as the king said a few words before Phil came up and thanked everyone to thunderous applause. He was being formal now, polite and serious and princely, but the necklace was still around his neck, and Dan could see even from there that he was smiling more than usual.

His parents dragged him home before he could see Phil again, even just to say goodbye, and Dan was left to twist and turn in bed all night, too energized to do anything else. Replaying the kiss again and again in his mind, one question remained: what now? It had meant something. He was sure of it, for once in his life. Just quite what, well, that was less sure. But he’d see Phil again tomorrow, and then he’d have the answers he needed.

Obviously Dan hardly slept, even when the night-magic had faded, because he had his very own magic, held tightly in his ribcage along with the butterflies. When he did finally shut his eyes, it was to see the gold glow of magician’s stars and a deep blue nighttime, waking him early. He stayed in bed just as long as he could, until it was absolutely, horridly unbearable when he felt like this. Even creeping around in the before dawn shadows wasn’t much help, not when everything was gentle and hushed and exactly the opposite of him. All he wanted was to see Phil again, to figure out everything between them.

Dan set about doing all of his chores for the day, feeding the chickens and watering the vegetable patch and sweeping the main room of the house just as his parents began to stir. From there he trailed after his dad to the mill, the few hours of helping out he did agonizing. He’d jump up to help every time he was even close to needed just to have something to distract himself, but most of his time was still spent anxiously waiting around. Eventually, his dad shook his head, sighed, and told him to just go already, since his pacing was distracting.

Dan was out the door before he even finished, sprinting out of the mill and down the little stone path, nearly toppling in his hurry. It was warm for wintertime, though Cygnus didn’t have the severe, frostbitten cold of the Northern Kingdoms, and the sun-soaked air was almost warm around him. The trees still had most of their leaves from such a mild fall. The loose stone path shifted to the cobbled streets of town, shops and houses sprouting up around him as he went. It was slower going here, with neighbors and travelers and fancy carts to dodge, but Dan was an expert. Soon enough, he reached a rather plain clump of bushes on the edge of the street. He took a glance around to see if anyone was watching, though he knew it wasn’t really necessary; nobody cared what one more scruffy kid did, but it made him feel just a little bit important, to have a secret. Seeing no one, he ducked through a gap in the leaves, followed a rough, overgrown imitation of a path through bit of shrubbery, and arrived at their spot.

It was a small clearing in the scrubby underbrush, a little tree growing in the middle that was just perfect for leaning against. They’d discovered it when they were first becoming friends, back when Dan’s mom had worked as a maid in the castle and he’d tagged along with her to stay out of trouble. It had been their very own little sanctuary from then on, seeing as most of the other kids were too intimidated to talk to the prince, as friendly as Phil was. Dan mulled this over as he sat beneath the tree, and then mulled it over some more, because Phil wasn’t there yet. More time passed, and Dan was trying to convince himself not to worry, a battle quickly lost. He’d gotten there early in his excitement, after all. But what if Phil didn’t want to see him anymore? What if he’d ruined everything forever?

The sun was threatening to dip beneath the trees before he finally gave up and left. It was strange; if Phil was busy, he would usually let him know in person beforehand that he wouldn’t be able to come. It made sense, when he had lessons on all sorts of things, beyond just reading and writing to etiquette, history, painting, and politics. But they’d agreed to meet today and go to the cliffs to swim, and he hadn’t heard anything otherwise.

Dan waited every afternoon at their tree for five days, his very own eternity. Nobody came, not even a servant from the castle to let him know that Phil was busy. On the sixth day of pushing down the terrible, sickly worry that this was all his fault somehow, Dan finished his chores, waited patiently until his dad was finished with the mill, and went the back way to the castle. It was a path for servants to get in without the fanfare that came with opening the main gates, though just as well guarded. He let the guards check him for weapons, both remaining strangely quiet when they usually chatted and ruffled his hair. It unsettled him, but there were more important things to think of than distracted guards. He made it just a few steps in the familiar direction of Phil’s room before he was interrupted.

“Dan!” A voice called, urgent, and he was surprised to see that it was the queen. She looked weirdly frazzled, her hair unkempt and eyes tired. Her crown remained on her head, but it hadn’t been polished for days. Mrs. Lester was usually put-together, but more importantly, she was also usually smiling. Seeing her like this stopped him in his tracks. “Your Majesty, have you seen Phil? He hasn’t come over--” He pushed on, more urgent than before, but the Queen made a strange choked noise, staring blankly at him, and he stopped once more.

“Are… are you okay? Is he okay?” He asked, his voice sounding much too small. The Queen paused for a long moment, gaze darting around the empty hall, before she knelt down to his level, eyes watery and red. When she spoke next, Dan felt his world tilt on its axis.

To avoid heartbreak, the rest of the kingdom was told that Phil would be attending a very prestigious boarding school in a kingdom distant enough that it was easy to forget about and hard to verify. Only family and a few close friends were invited to the funeral. They’d each been sworn to secrecy, pleaded to it by the royal family to make this easier, for all of them. Dan remembered none of the service, just the incredible feeling that he was missing half of his heart mixed with a heavy sort of blankness. He stood, feeling very small in his shabby best clothes, surrounded by a few adults and their hushed, sympathetic voices.

The casket was moved discreetly in the night to avoid questions, up a faded path to the family’s sepulchre, leaving Dan with so much left to say. Just like that, he was all alone in the world, with a secret that weighed heavy on his heart and the only one who could have understood it gone. It clawed at him from the inside out, a slow, constant ache with no cure to be found. The night went on.