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Day One
“You have got to be kidding me.”
No one answered. How could they—every single person in this castle seemed to be asleep.
Jason had thought security a bit lax, but then again, when people called the local witch in for an emergency, the situation was dire. Now, though, he supposed the guards were merely asleep at their posts.
This wasn’t good. Jason was careful as he walked through the castle, eyes straining to hear any sounds.
Nothing.
He’d been to the throne room only once before, paying his respects—as required by law—during the first year of the crown prince’s life. There had been a massive banquet for the kid’s naming ceremony, but Jason was far too low on the sorcery-ladder to be invited. Which was as he liked it.
Still, it wasn’t difficult to find. Royalty did like their obvious drapery and big doors. Inside, he found more people slumped where they had been sitting or standing. The queen was sitting on her throne, writing quill still in hand. The message was genuine then.
‘Save my son.’ Those cryptic words and a Royal signature were all the message boy had been able to give Jason. He’d probably escaped the castle just in time. Just how far did the curse reach? There was a town nearby. Jason really hoped they’d escaped.
Anyway, the queen had basically hired him to take care of her son, which meant that the boy (a teenager now? Young adult? Time was weird.) was likely the center of the whole event.
Which, in turn, meant this wasn’t an evil (step-)mother scenario. Someone else who had it out for the heir to the throne, then. That only left, oh, any witch in the land with a perceived grudge.
Who even used those old-fashioned curses anymore? Just turn the family pet into stone or something instead of freezing the entire ruling class of a country for an undetermined amount of time.
(…then again, maybe Jason could see the appeal.)
The next step was obviously to find the kid.
He inspected several of the bodies around the throne, but none looked to be enchanted prince material. Besides, if he knew anything about how these things went, he’d need to find a tower or a dungeon. Preferably the former.
Jason went outside for a minute, taking in the castle anew. Great. Just as he remembered. There were four towers. That was just excessive.
There was nothing for it. Jason sighed and went to find the first staircase.
Three towers later, he thought he was onto something. He was also out of breath, but whatever. There were dark, thorny vines growing in the staircase.
“That way, hmm?” he asked them. “Okay. Just don’t prick me.”
At the top of the (way, way too long) staircase, there was a single wooden door. No special security, which spoke volumes about how safe the royals had felt. The room behind it looked to be regular living quarters, which was something, at least. Sleeping Beauties didn’t like being moved, and Jason hadn’t looked forward to camping out in an attic.
His gaze fell on the figure in the center of the room, sleeping peacefully on the bed, his fingers crossed on his chest.
And, huh. Jason knew that guy.
Day Three
“Okay, that’s the last one.”
Jason winced when he heard his own voice. Prince Timothy was still asleep. Jason hadn’t heard any human voices since the messenger boy came to his door three days ago. Not that he’d been all that popular before that, but….
He’d just spent a good two days lugging bodies around so their owners would be comfortable. Nothing more he could do for them now, though. He’d been hired—well, compelled—to look after the prince, and hopefully get them all out of them this way.
Anyway, maybe spending so much time in total silence was getting to him if he was talking to the sleeping prince now. Then again… his mother had been able to talk entire flower meadows into existence. He hadn’t inherited her talent for words, but his plants surpassed hers by the time he’d been a young teenager.
It couldn’t harm anyone if he kept talking, and it might just keep him sane. For however long this was gonna take.
Jason looked at the sleeping prince. His skin was pale and glowing, his hair falling artfully over his face, his lips a perfect shade of pink.
Jason sighed. He’d go into town tomorrow and get the word out. Someone needed to find their true love.
Day Five
“You know, I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re a fucking prince. This is why I don’t trust humans.”
For a second, Jason lost track of his thought; his cauldron wasn’t settling in place over the fire. A simple household spell later and the cauldron stopped being so wobbly, the fireplace accommodating its girth perfectly now.
“Where was I? Right, trust issues. Seriously, you said you’re just a visiting minor noble.”
Jason continued to set up his workshop with precise, practiced motions as he remembered the day that a rather scrawny kid had shown up. His blue eyes had been wide as he took in Jason’s equipment, the spells at work, the countless books in many languages in the walls. His first question had been: How does it work?
He never stopped asking that. No matter how many words and pots Jason threw at him.
“Seriously, anyone with sense would run away from a witch. How’re you supposed to rule a kingdom with that kind of survival instinct?”
Except the kid hadn’t gone away, not even as a teenager, not even as a young man. He kept coming back, bringing Jason small gifts and ignoring his grumping. Jason didn’t know how he felt about that.
“…then again, if you knew you were gonna be hit with a curse…” Jason sighed. “Anyway, the word is out now. Bet we’ll be inundated with suitors soon. Seeing how you’re a prince.”
The vines had obeyed him and only spread to the outer parts of the castle, leaving a path free for any visiting princess who wanted to try her luck. Jason was even reasonably sure he could keep them from tearing the suitors apart if it didn’t work.
“Hope you don’t mind being kissed.” Jason grimaced. “I apologize in advance, but hey, you could’ve just not lied and mentioned a girlfriend. Then I would know who to drag up here.”
Okay, so he was still mildly pissed about that. He’d thought they were friends.
Still. “I’ll be here, though, okay? Not leaving you alone, I promise.”
Day Seven
“Tim, you fucko, what’ve you gotten yourself into?”
That… was distinctly no princess. Instead, it was a tall, blonde woman in a rogue’s outfit, putting her hands on her hips and looking distinctly unimpressed.
Jason liked her on sight. “I take it you know him?”
“Yeah, grew up with him. And you are?”
“Jason Todd. I was, uh, charged to look after him.” Jason wasn’t sure why he felt the need to justify himself. “Do you know anything about what happened?”
“No, I just saw the reward offered for kissing my sleeping ex and thought I’d stop by.”
There went his hope of finding the source of the curse and threatening them into lifting it. “So he never mentioned any threats by witches or disgruntled fairies or his father’s jilted ex?”
“Not a word. Can you believe it? He never even mentioned the, you know, death curse? As if that wasn’t relevant to our relationship. Fuckhead.”
“100-year sleep,” Jason corrected absently. “You were his girlfriend?”
She glared. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
Jason raised his hands. “Didn’t think the queen let her precious son date a commoner, is all.”
“Eh, she wasn’t happy.” A grin stole over Stephanie’s face. “Took us less than a month to figure out we’re both gay, but we kept it up for a year just ’cause it made her so mad.”
They were both—oh. Jason sighed. “I’m going to have to adjust the advertisement, aren’t I.”
“Yupp. At least…” A considering look came into her eye. “Do you?”
“Uh, yes? I’ve haven’t been explicitly asking for only maidens, but…”
“Hmm. I would’ve thought… Anyway, I’ll get it changed if you want.”
“Thanks.” He probably shouldn’t agree, but Jason was grateful for not having to go into town so soon again. The common populace was nervous with their regents asleep. Witches appearing more often than usual tended not to help.
“Sure.” She darted over to give Tim a one-sided hug, then waved at Jason as she left.
“…you have interesting friends,” Jason told Tim.
Her laugh echoed in the staircase. “I heard that!”
Day Nine
“I am the Duke of Darkwood, and I have come to rescue the Prince.” It was quite an announcement.
Jason waved at the sleeping figure. “Be my guest.”
The duke confidently walked over to where Tim was sleeping and swooped down for a kiss. Jason held his breath. Surely it couldn’t be this easy…?
It wasn’t. Tim didn’t stir.
The duke looked disappointed but shrugged. “Ah, well. Guess my wife will be pleased.”
“…you think?”
Day Fifteen
Jason watched yet another suitor leave. “I’m starting to think this might not be as easy as I thought.”
Day Sixteen
“Okay, I’m very sorry to do this, but you need dusting.”
The spell might protect Tim from rotting and/or greasy hair, but a royal tower was a dusty place to live in, especially when it had been converted into witch’s workshop.
“Just a wet wipe and a change of clothes, yeah? You’ll thank me for it when you wake up.”
He kept his eyes averted as much as possible as he gently ran the cloth over Tim’s body. Which was definitely the body of a man now, not a child. Not that Jason was noticing or anything, because that would be creepy.
When he opened Tim’s closet, he groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me? Is there anything with less than one million buttons in there?”
None of this could be comfortable. There was so much white. Tim looked terrible in white and always spilled something on his sleeves.
“Okay, where do you hide the stuff you wear when you visit me, huh? Knowing you, you probably didn’t entrust that secret to many people, so they should be around you. Hmm.”
It took Jason over an hour to find Tim’s hideaway under a floorboard in front of the cupboard, the clever little devil. “You’re lucky none of my roses decided to grow there, honestly.”
In the compartment, he found shirts and pants in black and red, soft but nothing compared to the starched silk in the closet. It still took some maneuvering to get them onto Tim’s limp body, but Jason liked the result much. After some consideration, he placed Tim’s hands next to him instead of on his chest. It looked too much like a body in a coffin, otherwise.
“There. Much better.”
Day Thirty-Two
“Kinda funny, both of us waiting for true love. Or maybe not funny, not for you.” Tonight, Jason was stitching. Not his favorite activity in the world, but symbols had powers, and it looked like Tim could need some additional protection in his life.
“I guess most people don’t know, but my mother used to warn me. Beware of love, she said. It’s the one thing to make a witch age.” Jason sighed. “It killed her, right enough.”
Tim, of course, didn’t answer.
“I don’t know. It might not be so bad.”
Day Forty-One
“Get away from him, witch.”
Jason sighed. An angry man who didn’t like witches. His favorite.
It only got worse when the kiss, predictably, did nothing. The suitor grabbed his sword and whirled around, pointing it at Jason. “Release him, witch!”
“I would like nothing better myself, but—”
“Silence! I know it is your evil mechanisms that entrap our good Prince Timothy! Release him, and I may be merciful!”
“Actually, you may leave,” Jason said calmly, “Or I can let my vines strangle you.”
The man, face turning purple, took a step toward him. Around him, the vines rose, crawling in through the window and the door like a mass of snakes.
Jason could see him waver.
“Fine, witch,” he spat. “But don’t think you’ll get away with this!”
Jason might be more impressed if he hadn’t heard this kind of threat, oh, 3424 times before. Nothing to lose sleep over.
Tim had stood up for him, that one time.
Jason was used to being harassed by the townsfolk. For decades, he’d lived in his cottage; town officials came and went, and so did the inevitable strategy of ‘let’s use people’s prejudices to garner popularity.’ Tim, though, had lost it when he heard that Jason was accused of stealing a child. His words had been cutting, his threats even more so, and by the end of it, the official had left Jason’s cottage with his tail between his legs.
Back then, Jason had wondered at a town official obeying the command of a boy, even if he was noble. Now he didn’t wonder anymore.
Day Forty-Eight
“He’s beautiful,” Prince Peter of Mountainhigh and Valleylow breathed, then caught himself. “Or is that just the spell?”
Jason shrugged. “I mean, he certainly wouldn’t look that good after almost two months without food if it weren’t for the magic.”
The prince winced.
Jason was still looking at Tim, though. He remembered the other’s smile, his soft eyes by the firelight, the way he never flinched from Jason. “But, no. He’s more beautiful when he’s awake.”
“I see.” The prince said. “Good luck with that, then.”
Jason blinked as he watched the other leave. He hadn’t even kissed Tim.
Day Sixty-Three
“Okay, that’s the last of the potions,” Jason told the boy. “Make sure they drink all of it, okay? Once a day for the whole week, or the sickness might come back.”
The kid—visibly happy not to have to climb these stairs yet again today—nodded and took the satchel.
Watching him leave, Jason patted the closest vine like it was a favored pet. “Good job, letting these kids pass through. Thank you.”
With a grown, he collapsed on the chair next to Tim’s bed, his new favorite place to spend the evening. God, plague outbreaks were so exhausting. Luckily this had been a small one, easily contained, and Jason had had enough heart grass stored to produce treatment for everyone, but it had been a near thing for some of them.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Tim sleepily as his head dropped backward, his hand reaching out to touch Tim’s elbow as if seeking solace. “Just… a quick rest…”
Day Sixty-Seven
“Look, it’s not working.” Jason didn’t bother concealing his disgust. The man (an earl? He thought? These kinds of men never bothered to introduce themselves.) was moving in for a second kiss, and Jason wasn’t about to let that happen.
Bad enough that Tim had to endure being kissed by strangers daily. Jason wasn’t about to let him be molested.
The suitor grinned. “I could just wake him up the old-fashioned way.”
It took Jason a second to remember what had happened to the unfortunate princess that was the first to be hit by this curse. When he did, he turned the suitor into a frog. And good riddance.
Day Seventy-Two
Jason had been awake for two days. The upside: The tower and the throne room were now as clean as they had ever been. The downside: The manic energy that came from nightmares of his mother’s death still thrummed through him, but he was exhausted and barely able to move.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind having your hand held,” he finally told Tim. “Because honestly, I could use a little comfort right now.”
The weirdest thing was: It actually helped.
Day Seventy-Five
The day Jason realized that he was hoping no suitor would be able to kiss Tim awake because that would mean he would lose him was the day he left.
Day Seventy-Six
“Well, good to be home, I guess.”
His cottage was too quiet. Which was ridiculous. He’d lived like this for one hundred years, would likely live here for centuries more. At least the animals outside were awake. It was far noisier than at the castle right now. He would have no trouble at all sleeping through the night.
…three hours later, Jason woke up in a cold sweat. “Tim?”
Of course, there was no answer. How stupid was he? Jason blinked, tried to get back to sleep, but nothing doing. Tim’s face, pale and accusing, was still there.
When the first morning light came in through the window, Jason gladly got up. It would be good to take care of his vegetables again. His fertility-enhancing greens were famous across the lands, and Jason couldn’t afford to lose the income they provided.
When he looked outside, there were thorns everywhere, agitatedly straining toward him.
“Fuck.” This hadn’t happened in years.
For a long, long minute, Jason considered burning everything down. Then he watered the arugula and packed his bundle.
Day Eighty
Stephanie dropped by again. “No luck, I see.”
“Nope.”
“Nice garden, though.”
Jason flushed. He hadn’t meant to fill the room with flowers, in season and out of it; it just… happened.
However, she looked appreciative. “Just so you know, if I ever need a bouquet for a wedding, you’re so hired. These are as gorgeous as Tim said.”
“Tim talked about my roses?” The fuck?
“Oh, yeah, he mentioned you once or twice.” She grinned. “And by ‘mentioned you,’ I mean’ chewed my fucking ear off about how great you are.’”
Jason flushed. “What—”
“Jason is such a good witch! He should be the healer in the capital, not hidden away in the woods! Jason is so pretty and strong! I wish he would carry me in those arms!” Her imitation of Tim’s accent was terrible. “He’s so sweet, I could have him throw cabbages at me all day—”
“Whatever.” Jason wasn’t in the mood to be made fun of. Tim had never said anything like that, or Jason would know. “Look, there must be someone else. Someone who knows him.”
Stephanie shook her head, suddenly somber. “I don’t think so. He’s—” she hesitated. “He’s lost people.”
“I know.”
Can you bring the dead back?
No.
Speak to them, then?
No. They are gone, and I am not that kind of witch.
Oh. Tim’s face had been tightly controlled, but now, something fractured.
I’m sorry.
“I’ll ask around again,” Stephanie said, bringing him back to the present. “But I still can’t believe… Whatever. We’ll find a Prince Charming for this guy yet.”
“Sure.”
She bent over to give Tim a kiss on the cheek. “Well, I’ll be off. Damsels to rescue, riches to steal, you know.”
“Wait a sec.” Jason grabbed one of his many small containers off the shelf. “Here. For those burned hands that you’re trying to hide.”
The tips of her ears turned red, but she took the salve.
Day Eighty-Nine
“I think we ran out of visitors,” Jason told Tim. “I’m sorry.”
He was, jealousy aside.
“There will be others. Technically, you could just wait the hundred years… not like I’ll age.” Well. “Except I’m not so sure about that anymore. Maybe it’s just the different light in your bathroom, but…”
Honestly, the thought of him aging while the one who caused it was asleep—and therefore not—was too depressing even for Jason. “Whatever. I’m sure I’ll make a great silver fox. And hey, that way I’ll find out if all these anti-aging potions I’ve sold over the years actually work.”
He imagined Tim would laugh at that, or maybe chide him for being a scam when he could do real good for people with his magic. To which Jason would reply that the greater good was all well and, uh, good, but a witch needed to eat.
Those little dreams seemed farther and farther away from reality with each day that passed.
“I guess we’re just gonna have to stick it out together,” he sighed. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Tim kept sleeping. His breathing was soft and regular. It evoked a familiar tenderness in Jason, a feeling so immense, he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Hope you have sweet dreams, at least,” Jason murmured. On impulse, he leaned forward and brushed a kiss against Tim’s temple. “Good night.”
His bones creaked as he shifted, ready to get up. If this was aging, Jason didn’t want it. The noise was loud enough that Tim stirred, for God’s sake.
…wait. Tim stirred.
Jason could do nothing but gape. It took him a second to even lurch forward, to check Tim’s pulse, making sure he was alive and waking up, not, like, suffering a heart attack.
The beat under Jason’s fingers was steady at first, then accelerating.
And then those eyes fluttered open.
Tim smiled. It was a sweet and wondrous thing, and he did not seem at all surprised to see Jason there, leaning over his bed.
“Hey,” was all Jason could think to say.
That smile grew. “Hey.”
And then the bubble burst. There was so much noise. Royals, nobles, servants, and supplicants woke up and exclaimed in shock at finding themselves in neat rows in the throne room; dogs barked and cats yowled their indignation.
Jason knew he only had minutes before the guards would come in, find him here, surrounded by what was obviously a witch’s workshop. He had to get out. Now.
Day Three after the Big Sleep
Of course the little fucker didn’t knock before barging into Jason’s home.
Tim’s skin wasn’t quite as pale, his hair distinctly less glossy than before; his lips looked just as kissable. And those eyes—seeing them critically take in Jason’s cottage was worth everything.
“Sorry it took me so long. The court was in a bit of a state.”
“Right. Cause of the sleeping thing,” Jason said inanely. After three months of having a sleeping Tim right next to him, the one who was awake was a lot to deal with. And he was standing really, really close.
“I was waiting for you,” Tim informed him. “Time doesn’t mean much when you’re under a spell—as I’m sure you know—but I could hear you. Took you long enough. Half the kingdom kissed me before you did.”
Oh, fuck. “I didn’t—”
“I know.” Tim sighed. “I thought you weren’t interested, but that’s not it at all, isn’t it?”
Jason had seldom felt so laid bare. Still he shrugged and just said, “You’re a noble—a prince, and I’m a witch,” as if that answered everything. Because to him, it did.
“Jason.” And oh, he’d missed that exasperated tone. “You got my mother offering you a boon, the entire kingdom celebrating you, and proof that you’re my One True Love. What else is it going to take for you to fucking kiss me?”
Well, if Tim phrased it like that… “Uh, an invitation?”
“You mean, apart from the one destiny itself issued?”
“Destiny can fuck itself.” That sounded too much like a challenge to fate, so Jason hastily added: “I want to know what you want.”
Tim’s eyes softened. “I want for you to know who I am, and be sure that you already know me better than just about anyone else. I want to stay here with you whenever I can, and for you to come to the palace whenever you can stomach it. I want to make this work because I’ve been in love with you since I was a kid. And yes, Jason, I really, really want for you to kiss me.”
And how could Jason deny him? He took one step forward, and then Tim was there, kissing him instead. It was soft and tender and human, and Jason knew he would never want to miss it, didn’t know how he could’ve waited so long to have it.
When they drew back to breathe, Tim’s eyes stayed closed. He was flushed, adorably so, and Jason couldn’t help but drop kisses on those red cheeks, then his nose, his forehead, until Tim tilted his head up and caught his lips with his own again.
Outside the cottage, a flower garden sprang to life.