Archive of Our Own

Once upon a time, in a far away land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was selfish and unkind.

But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. She warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. When he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.

The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.

Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his twenty-first year.

If he could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.

With the passage of time, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?

Zayn stood in the neglected foyer, his sister Doniya cowering behind him, and questioned every poor decision in his life that had led him to this moment.

“She’s my prisoner!” A booming voice echoed around the shadowed chamber, the only illumination a weak fire in an adjoining room.

“No. She’s my sister, and I’ll be damned if you think you can keep her here against her will.”

Zayn stared defiantly at the massive - shit, he didn’t even know what to call it. The creature spoke like a man, but resembled nothing less than a furry Minotaur. Garbed in little more than a ragged blanket and shredded breeches, the beast advanced on the pair menacingly.

“You plan to stop me?” The Beast snarled. The rafters of the dilapidated castle shook, plaster falling from the eaves in a fine dust. The Beast didn’t notice. “Fine! Both of you can rot in the dungeons together.”

Zayn stiffened, then straightened to shield his sister. He stepped back, pressing Doniya toward the oaken door that still hung ajar. “Let her go, and I’ll stay.”

“How is that a deal? I already have you both.”

“Master, please. Don’t forget the-”

“SILENCE!” The beast roared, glaring into the shadows.

Zayn glanced around the room, looking for the owner of the raspy voice. No one else occupied the enormous hall, and then…

A candelabra hopped across the room. Literally fucking hopped. Under its own steam. No ropes or pulleys anywhere to be seen. Zayn shook his head. Christ! What the hell had he been smoking last night?

“Doni? Can you- are you - you can see that, right? I’m not like - hallucinating, am I?”

“It all talks!” Doni whispered. “The furniture. The dishware. Hell, the ottoman barks like a damn corgi!”

“What the hell did you get us into now? I left you alone for three days so you could research your dissertation!” Zayn hissed back, not bothering to look at his sister. “Fuck’s sake! Go! Now, whilst he’s distracted. It’s your only chance.”

“But-” Doniya hesitated, her eyes shifting between her brother and the surreal scene playing out across the room. “What about you? I can’t just leave you here!”

“Yes you can! I’ll be fine!” Zayn gave her a shove. “Go, Doniya! Now!”

“I’ll be back, I promise!” Doniya reluctantly released her hold on Zayn’s arm and inched toward the open door. “I’ll raise a search party. Stay safe, Zayn!” She slipped out into the night, and Zayn breathed a sigh of relief when she disappeared from sight.

Just in time.

The door slammed shut, two coats of armour stepping from their pedestals to stand guard and prevent Zayn’s escape.

“You forfeit your life for hers? So be it.” The Beast spoke, his words accompanied by an imperious wave of his paw. “Take him to the dungeons. He can live out his days there.” In a gesture of dismissal, he turned away, already striding toward the ramshackle flight of stairs. A metallic hand wrapped tightly around Zayn’s arm and tugged him down the darkened hallway.

“Master! I must insist-” The candelabra interjected again - or at least, Zayn hoped to hell it was the candelabra. The armor halted, as if waiting for its next command.

The Beast stopped, a cloven hoof already resting on the bottom stair. Zayn watched the talons of his paw dig into the aged wood, a frequent occurrence if the myriad deep scratches that scored its surface were anything to go by.

“What Louis? What must you insist? Why do you continue to plague me?”

“It’s just… Sire… remember what the enchantress- ”

The Beast lifted his other paw, waving the candelabra silent, then dragging it across his eyes. With a weary sigh, he acquiesced to the candelabra’s unspoken request. “Fine. Do with him what you will, then. However, if you value his life, or even your own, you will keep him out of my sight and away from the West Wing.”

The Beast bounded up the stairs without a backward glance.

“I’ll escort you to your room.”

Zayn looked down to find the candelabra standing at his feet, it’s candles now ignited, the flames dispelling the darkness and revealing the extensive decay of the aged building.

“I am Tomlinson, the majordomo, but you may call me Louis.”

“Oh, uh, hello. I’m Zayn.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The candelabra bowed, the flames flickering jauntily.

“Where am I? What is this place?” Zayn shook his head. “Why the hell am I talking to a candlestick?”

“My apologies, sir. I’ve been remiss in my manners. It’s been so long since we’ve had visitors here. Welcome to Wolverhampton Castle, home of the royal family. Now please, allow me to show you to your quarters.”

The two coats of armour resumed their positions on either side of the door, broadswords crossed in front of it. Louis hopped toward the stairs, leaving Zayn no option but to follow or be submerged into darkness again.

“Your room, sir.”

Louis stopped in front of an open door, the sound of voices drifting from inside.

“A guest! Can you imagine? After all this time?”

“And look at me, so unprepared! I’ve a supper to get on the table now, haven’t I? And no idea if it will suit!”

Louis cleared his throat, and the voices abruptly quieted. He waved one of his branched arms for Zayn to proceed him, and Zayn cautiously stepped inside to find the interior brightly lit from a cheery fire and several hanging lanterns. The room was elegantly appointed and beautifully decorated. They had drawn back the thick velvet curtains of the grand canopied bed, the silken aubergine linens invitingly turned down. Heavy oak furniture gleamed in the fire's glow, the moon shining softly through the casement windows. The obvious care that had been given to the room stood in stark contrast to the neglect in the portions of the castle Zayn had viewed thus far, leaving him with even more questions as to the circumstances he had stumbled into.

A feather duster and teapot stood next to a wingback chair set in front of the fire, their demeanor almost sheepish. Zayn closed his eyes, shaking his head again. They’re inanimate objects, you fool! They don’t have emotions. He reopened his eyes, only to find both had moved closer.

“Harry, Niall-” the duster and teapot nodded in turn at the mention of their names. “This is Zayn. He will be staying with us for the foreseeable future. Please make him feel welcome.”

“But of course!” The teapot, Niall apparently, hopped forward. “The kitchen is working on supper as we speak. It’s simple fare, a light stew and fresh bread. Or we can prepare something else, if that isn’t acceptable?”

“No. Please. Don’t go to any trouble. Anything is fine.” Zayn stuttered a reply, still flabbergasted.

“Harry will help you - Oh for the love of God, can you two please refrain?”

Zayn whirled around to look where Niall stared, only to find the duster swept into the candelabra’s arms. The duster, Harry, giggled, pushing Louis away, and the two scampered out of the room.

“It’s all a dream.” Zayn sank into the chair, pinching his arm as he did so. “Any minute now, I will wake up. I’ll be back at the cottage, and Doni will have burnt the toast again. That’s it. It’s all a dream.”

“Oh no! The bread!” The teapot flew from the room.

“Would you like to change before supper?” An unfamiliar voice spoke, the tone soft and airy, reminding him of his sisters and their friends. Zayn turned to look for the source, slightly nervous about finding out what piece of furniture was addressing him now. The doors on the wardrobe flew open, a plethora of clothes spilling from the drawers. “Oh my stars! I’m so embarrassed! Please excuse the mess!”

“Oh - uhm - I am a bit damp.” Zayn looked down at his jumper, and winced, futilely brushing his hand over the dirt smudged across it. “And dirty.”

“I’m sure I have just the thing! The master was about your size, before - well, you know. Here-” A pair of trousers and a shirt flew from the wardrobe to fall onto the bed.

Zayn shook his head for the umpteenth time, but with each new encounter with the castle’s inhabitants, he found his incredulity abating. For the time being, this was his new normal, and adaptation would only make it easier. He walked to the bed to pick up the clothing the wardrobe had offered. Looking for some place to change and finding none, he cleared his throat.

“Oh, of course! My apologies!” The wardrobe shuddered, heavily pulling itself around to face the other direction. “Just leave your things, and I’ll have them cleaned and returned to you.”

The minute the wardrobe turned away, Zayn pulled out his phone and swiped it open. No signal. Of fucking course. The battery was almost dead, too, and he didn’t have his charger. Not that there was an outlet to be found, at least not anywhere that he’d seen yet. For now, he’d have to play along with whatever this farce was, until he could find a way out.

“What did you mean - before?” Zayn quickly shrugged off his leather jacket, and stripped out of his clothes. He pulled on the trousers, intrigued by the old-fashioned fastenings. “Before what?” He slipped the shirt over his head and tucked it into the trousers, amused by the gathered sleeves and lacings at the neckline. “You can turn around now. I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I’m Charlotte - you can call me Lottie. Louis is my brother.” The wardrobe opened its doors again, revealing a mirror on the inside. “My! Don’t you look dashing!”

Staring at his reflection, Zayn adjusted the lacings on the shirt, admiring the rakish image. Captain Jack, eat your heart out, he thought, with a sardonic smile. “I look like I’m about to take to the high seas on the Black Pearl.” He tugged the ruffle at his wrist. “It’s a bit… old-fashioned, innit?”

“Well-” Lottie drew out the word, as if contemplating what she could- or should - say. “It’s been awhile since the master updated his attire. He wasn’t always as he is now, you know. He was once a fine prince, and the castle was a grand place, full of life and parties every night.”

“What… but how… why are you all - like - well, this?”

The drawers of the wardrobe opened and closed rapidly, an inaudible hum coming from deep inside. Before she could reply, a low cough came from the door.

“That’s quite enough, Charlotte.”

The wardrobe doors slammed shut, and she slid back against the wall.

Louis’ flames flared, then receded again, as he bowed low. “Dinner is served.”

Zayn entered the dining room, unsure what to expect, but certain it would be unlike any meal he’d ever eaten. He wasn’t disappointed. From the minute the chair pulled away from the table, inviting him to have a seat, until his empty, chipped teacup tottered away with the last of the dessert plates, it had been an unrivaled experience. There was no sign of his host, a fact Zayn was patently grateful for. The Beast unsettled him. Even when he’d been raging over Doniya leaving, Zayn couldn’t help but notice an air of sadness in the creature’s eyes, almost an aura of defeat. Zayn shook off his musings and pushed himself away from the table. With a murmured “thanks” to the objects that had served him, he quietly left the room.

Taking his time returning to the lonely silence of his room, Zayn wandered along the corridor, taking note of the disarray and neglect that haunted every corner like a grim spectre. He wondered, yet again, what had brought the castle and inhabitants to such a state, and why Louis had been so quick to stop Lottie from talking about it.

Ahead of him, a door stood ajar, soft flickering light glowing around the frame. Zayn pushed it open, entering what appeared to be a study. The room was pristine, not an item out of place on the elaborate bookshelves that lined the walls. A fire danced merrily on the hearth, a full moon shining through the large casement windows. The room appeared to be empty, save an ornate, round table stood alone in the centre of the room. A delicate glass dome rested in the middle of the table, a handheld looking glass lying next to it.

Inside the dome, a single red rose floated, as if suspended by invisible wires. The flower appeared almost incandescent, the petals shimmering in the flickering glow of the fire.Mesmerized, Zayn watched as a petal fell, slowly fluttering down to the surface of the table, where another one already lay. He reached for the dome -

“What are you doing in here?” The Beast growled, the sound reverberating through the room, drowning out the slam of the heavy door against the wall.

Zayn jerked his hand back, shrinking away from the table.

The Beast flew across the room, stepping between Zayn and the table to curl protectively around the dome. “You shouldn’t be here! I gave explicit instructions - THE WEST WING IS FORBIDDEN!” The Beast’s voice rumbled, a bellowing roar exploding from him. “GET OUT!”

Zayn fled from the room and down the stairs. The coats of armor had apparently abandoned their posts, and Zayn anxiously wrested open the heavy front door. Dashing out of the castle and into the night, Zayn fled into the forest, his fear of The Beast inside greater than that of the unknown that waited for him in the murky shadows of the foreboding trees.

It wasn’t long before Zayn found himself hopelessly lost. The light of the moon was imperceptible, obscured by the gnarled tree branches tangled overhead. Zayn shivered, the borrowed clothing no match for the wintry wind that whirled around him. Heavy snow fell, filling in the tracks of his footprints and leaving no clue of the paths he might have already taken. Briars snagged the fine linen of his shirt, the sharp thorns cutting into his skin. Zayn ripped part of the cuff free, tying it to a branch to mark his passage. In the distance, a wolf howled. An answering cry followed. Then another - accompanied by the snapping sounds of branches breaking underfoot.

Zayn whirled at the warning sound, twisting out of the way just in time to avoid the enormous grey body hurtling across the clearing with a snarling growl. A second wolf joined the first at the edge of the trees, blocking the rapidly fading path. Another howl sounded behind Zayn. The wolves in the clearing paused in their pacing along the treeline, both crouching, the hackles along their necks raised. His stomach fell, the perilousness of his situation sending his heart into overdrive. There was no way out. He was surrounded.

A bellowing roar echoed through the darkness, and the animals growled, their gazes fixed on the direction the noise had come from. An animal yelped in pain, and Zayn’s fear shifted. The Beast!

“Wolves!” Zayn shouted in warning, too late. The Beast stormed the clearing, the animals leaping to attack him. One wolf caught hold of the Beast’s arm, blood welling from the large gash left behind when the Beast tossed it away like a rag doll. The wolf hit a tree, falling to the ground in a whimper of pain, its companion circling the Beast to find its own opening. The Beast roared again and sprung at the wolf, dispatching it as easily as he had its pack mate. The animals slunk away into the trees, the howling of the rest of the pack fading away. The Beast dropped to one knee, his body heaving. Blood dripped from his arm, the ruby liquid staining the pristine snow. He scanned the clearing, his eyes falling on Zayn.

“They’re gone.” The Beast shoved himself back to his feet, wincing at the effort.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’ll survive, more’s the pity I suppose. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I - no. I’m fine. But your arm -”

The Beast wrapped the edge of his cloak around the wound. “It’ll be fine.” He extended his paw. “Come. We’ll be safe until we reach the castle.”

Wordlessly, Zayn stepped closer. The Beast dropped his paw, a pained expression filling his eyes. He turned and walked away. Zayn followed, perplexed by the Beast’s mercurial reactions. He held his tongue, mulling the questions that ran through his mind, wondering if the castle would reveal the answers he sought.

“Ow! That hurts!”

The Beast tried to pull his arm away, but Zayn tightened his grip, continuing to clean the wound with hot water Niall had brought to them when they’d re-entered the castle.

“If you’d sit still, I could finish, and it wouldn’t hurt.” Zayn took the bandages Louis offered, wrapping them tightly around the wound to hold it closed.

The Beast pulled his arm against his chest, snarling at Zayn. “If you hadn’t run away this wouldn’t have happened in the first place!”

“If you hadn’t scared me, I wouldn’t have run away!” Zayn shouted back, refusing to cower before the Beast - not when Zayn had seen the fear and confusion he’d try to hide in the clearing.

“Well, you shouldn’t have been in the West-”

“I think that’s quite enough excitement for one night, hmm?” Louis interrupted. “We should all retire for the evening.”

“Neutral corners and all that,” Niall muttered under his breath, the lid of his pot clattering as he hustled away.

Zayn and the Beast continued glaring at each other, neither or them willing to concede their position.

“Sire, please.” Louis slid between them with an exasperated sigh. “ Let me escort you back to your room, Zayn.”

“I’ll escort our guest, Louis. You can return to your room, and your husband. ” The Beast stood, inclining his head toward the open door. “After you-” he paused, taking a measured breath, before continuing, “Zayn.”

They moved along the corridor together, ascending the steps in silence. At the top, Zayn paused, laying a hand on the Beast’s arm to stop him.

“Wait.”

The Beast stopped, casting a wary gaze on Zayn.

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters! Our names are part of who we are and how we identify ourselves.” Zayn waved his hand, trying to make his point. “Everyone calls you ‘Master’ or ‘Sire'. They’re titles, not a name. Certainly not the sum of who you are.”

“My name isn’t important. I’m not… it’s not who I am anymore.” The Beast turned away.

“Then become who you want to be,” Zayn pressed on, stubbornly refusing to let it go. “Change your fate.”

“My fate is already decided. There’s nothing I can do to change it. I can only accept its inevitability,” The Beast murmured, and Zayn saw his shoulders drop, dejection evident in his posture.

”I’m sorry, no. That’s the wrong answer. You can always change your future, if you’re brave enough to face yourself.”

The Beast opened the door to Zayn’s room, standing back to give him room to enter.

“Sleep well, Zayn.”

Zayn sighed and eased past the creature, slowly closing the door behind himself. He leaned against it, expecting to hear The Beast’s footsteps as he walked away.

Instead, the Beast coughed, his voice low and hesitant when he spoke again. “You can call me Liam - if you wish.”

Liam prowled around his study, unable to find peace in the things that usually distracted him. The snow continued to fall, the wind howling around the castle, the edges of day and night blurred in the murky half light the castle’s inhabitants had become accustomed to. The concept of time was of little consequence in the castle, its passage marred by the enchantment that had transformed its occupants. Since Zayn’s arrival, though, Liam sensed a shift in the magic, an almost urgent undertone, as if the very walls of the castle whispered ‘Hurry! Hurry!’.

Four more petals had fallen from the rose since the incident in the forest, since he’d revealed his name to Zayn in a moment of weakness brought on by his fear for the safety of the man in his care. Giving into temptation, he swooped over to the table and picked up the mirror that lay next to the domed rose. Shaking off the anxiety the sight of the scattered, fallen petals produced, he instead focused on the source of his discomfort.

“Show me Zayn.”

The mirror shimmered, the surface swirling until the image came into focus. Zayn sat hunched in the chair in his room, fingers tapping on the arm of the chair as he stared into the fire.

“- it’s just… I thought things were different. After we returned to the castle-”

Lottie’s voice interrupted, the wardrobe out of view from the scope of the mirror’s image.

“The Master has things to attend to. I’m certain, though, if you would simply ask Louis, he could-“

“No, no!” Zayn hastily answered, standing to move closer to the fireplace. “I’m not used to sitting around, idly wasting my time. Is there a library in the castle? I’d even settle for a few books, if that’s all that’s available.”

“There used to be a library. I haven’t left the room in a long while, but we could send for Louis and you can ask him.”

“I don’t want to bother him. It’s fine.” Liam watched Zayn move around the room, fingers carefully drifting across each piece of furniture, obviously unsure if he should. He stopped in front of a delicate secretary, his hand hovering over the door handle. Glancing back over his shoulder, Zayn addressed Lottie again.

“Is this - uhm - like you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Is it alive, too?”

“Goodness, me, no! It’s just a regular piece of furniture.” Lottie laughed, obviously amused at the thought.

“Well, it’s not like I’d know that without it breaking into a song and dance, and scaring the shit out of me,” Zayn retorted. “May I?”

“I don’t see why not. The Master said you were to make yourself at home, except of course-”

“The West Wing,” Zayn interjected, finishing Lottie’s sentence. “Right, of course.”

Zayn drew down the door of the secretary, locking the desk into place, then slowly checking each of the cubbies and drawers. Liam cocked his head, wondering what Zayn hoped to find inside. He didn't wonder long.

Zayn pulled some sheets of paper from one of the drawers, then removed an inkwell and quill from an adjacent cubby. Setting them on the desk, he retrieved the chair from in front of the fire. Settling in at the desk, he dipped the quill in the ink, blotting it on a scrap piece of paper until he seemed satisfied with what remained. He brought the quill to a fresh sheet of paper, broad strokes and fine lines slowly metamorphosing into a sketch of the young woman, Zayn’s sister, who had first invaded his castle and set in motion the events that had brought them to now.

“I’ve seen enough.” The mirror swirled again, the surface slowly returning to it’s placid reflective state.

Liam settled into the stately chair by the fire, stroking his chin as he mulled over all he’d seen in the mirror, the things that Zayn had expressed interest in.

Books.

Art.

Lost in thought, he started when he felt something butt against his leg. He looked down to see the ottoman leaning against him, it’s tassel wagging as it sought his attention. The enchantress had not even spared his dog from being affected by the curse. He knelt down, his large paw stroking the length of the ottoman to pet his old friend.

“I wonder-” Liam shook his head. No time for idle musings. He had things to arrange. “Winston! Go find Louis. ”

Zayn sat at the desk long after the candles had burnt to stubs, his eyes burning from exhaustion. Still he carried on, meticulously drawing his family, taking comfort in the familiar faces recreated by the scratch of the quill across the heavy paper. He fell into a deep sleep, waking when he heard a cough and the soft sound of someone clearing their throat. He rolled to the side of the bed and cracked one eye open, hesitant to see what new household item was addressing him. The teapot, Niall, sat on the night table, accompanied by the chipped cup that Zayn had used since his arrival.

“There you are. Finally awake.” Niall hopped closer to the edge of the table, “When you didn’t come down for breakfast, I thought it best to bring breakfast to you. I’ve tea and toast, and can have some eggs or porridge brought up, if you’d like.”

“Toast is fine.” Zayn pushed himself to a sitting position, tucking a pillow behind his back against the headboard.

“Surely you want more than that?” Niall fretted as he bustled around arranging the tea cart that accompanied him. “You need to keep your strength up.”

“Keep my strength up for what? My daily stroll along the corridor? The arduous trek to the dining room?” Zayn snapped, then softened his tone, instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Niall. I’m just bored.” He picked up the tea cup. “Toast is fine for now, though. Let me get my eyes open and have some tea before I have to think about anything else.”

A light tap sounded on the door, followed by Louis’ voice. “Are you awake, sir?”

“Come in, Louis. Everyone else does.”

Niall huffed a puff of steam in indignation, returning to the tea cart in a strop as Louis entered the room.

“The Master has requested your company for lunch, if you’re interested in joining him.” Louis spoke with formality, even though Zayn could see his flames flickering with excited energy.

“Wait. Lunch? Like… eating a meal? Together?”

“Yes, sir. Around noon, in the dining room. He also requests the pleasure of your company for a stroll around the courtyard afterward. The snow has stopped falling, and the wind has calmed. The Master thought you might enjoy the fresh air. Lottie can provide you with appropriately warm clothing and a cloak.

“We’re going outside?” Zayn eagerly flipped back the covers and scrambled out of bed. “What time is it? Am I late?”

Lottie’s doors flapped at the prospect of providing an adequate outfit for the day, but it couldn’t compare to Zayn’s own eager anticipation at having the opportunity to see something slightly more exciting than the cement walls of the castle interior.

“I’ve taken the liberty of having a bath prepared for you. You have plenty of time to wash up and prepare yourself.”

As if on cue, the clock on the mantle whirred, then chimed, announcing the time.

“Half-past ten, and all is well.”

Louis leaned over the desk, taking in the scattered papers that covered its surface. “Did you draw these, sir?”

“Please, Louis, I’ve asked you so many times already. Call me Zayn.”

“Of course. You are a guest, and I do not wish to disrespect your status. But if you insist-”

“I do insist. And yes, I drew them last night.” Zayn picked up the sketch of his mum, tracing a finger over the delicate lines of her face. “I don’t want to forget them, even if I become nothing more than a memory myself.”

“I assure you, sir -” Louis paused, inclining himself in Zayn’s direction, “pardon me - Zayn - that you will not be easily forgotten. And perhaps, in time, circumstances will allow a visit. Fate is a fickle and unpredictable mistress.”

“Do you truly believe that? Or are you simply trying to placate me?”

“What? That fate is a fickle mistress? Oh, I can assure you, from first hand experience, she most definitely is! There is simply no other explanation for having this,” Louis waved one of his branches to encompass himself and the room, the candle flame guttering from the swift movement, “occur mere hours before Harry and I were due to depart on our honeymoon.”

“I was referring to the possibility of a visit home,” Zayn winced, “but I do see your point.”

“Ahhh, yes, that.” Louis nodded. “Well, of course it’s possible. With the right circumstances.”

“I don’t suppose you could tell me what those would be?”

“When the time is right, there’ll be no question in your mind,” came Louis’ cryptic reply, leaving Zayn with even more questions than he’d had before.

“Are you warm enough? I can have a thicker cloak brought out for you. I don’t want you to catch a chill,” Liam fretted, twisting his massive hands. He stopped outside a gazebo hung heavy with icicles and eyed the cloak Lottie had laid out for Zayn with distaste.

“I’m fine, it’s fine.” Zayn sought to reassure him, folding back the lapel. “See? It’s lined with fur.”

Liam relaxed, his gaze still wary. “If you’re certain?”

“I am. The wind isn’t blowing, and the sky is clear.” Zayn pointed to the edge of the cobblestone pathway. “Look. The snow is even melting a bit. The sun is shining, and I’m enjoying the fresh air.”

“But you'll tell me if you become chilled, right?”

“I promise.” Zayn rested his hand on Liam’s arm, offering him a tentative smile. “Let’s walk. The exercise will help keep me warm.”

Mollified, Liam acquiesced, leading Zayn along the pathways that meandered around the empty, dormant garden beds. Tree branches hung low, weighed down with thick accumulations of snow. The sun shone brightly in the clear azure sky, wispy clouds floating idly overhead. Icicles shimmered in the light, droplets of water sliding down their translucent surface, melting snow sliding off the branches to plop heavily into the wind-tossed banks that circled the trees.

Liam spoke, his voice low. “When I was a child, the garden was my favorite place. The colors, the smells - all of it felt like a fairy world. That was before this incessant winter. I can’t remember the last time we had flowers here.”

“What changed?”

Liam shook his head. “I was a foolish young man, with an inflated opinion of my place in the world. My self-centeredness was my downfall. Sadly, everyone I knew and cared about also became victims of my thoughtless actions. It is what I regret most - that so many others were hurt as a result of my folly.”

“I don’t understand -” Zayn’s question was cut off by Louis calling out to them.

“Master! The arrangements are complete, and everything is at the ready.”

Liam’s eyes lit up, the hint of a smile visible. “Excellent!” He touched Zayn’s elbow. “Can we go back to the castle now? There’s something I wish to show you.”

“I… I suppose.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong” Zayn hesitated, his eyes closing momentarily, the crispness of the wintry afternoon filling his lungs. He opened his eyes again, taking in the concerned expression that replaced Liam’s exuberance. “It’s just... I was enjoying the fresh air.”

“Is that all?”

Zayn nodded.

“That’s an easy enough situation to remedy. You’re welcome to visit the gardens whenever you wish.”

“I am?” Zayn brightened. “Tomorrow?”

“So long as the weather permits, I don’t see why not.” Liam shrugged.

“And you’ll join me?”

“I … uhm...” Liam stuttered, surprised by the invitation, then regained his composure. “If you wish for me to join you, I would consider it an honor.” He took a step backward making a sweeping bow. “Now, if you’ll permit me to escort you back to the castle?”

“I’m planning to hold you to that.” Zayn rested his hand on Liam’s arm. Glancing over in wonder at the casual gesture, Liam was struck by the delighted smile Zayn bestowed on him as he replied. “Now, show me what’s so important that we need to cut short our walk.”

They re-entered the castle, Winston gamboling around them. After discarding their outerwear into the welcoming arms of the coat racks, Liam offered his arm to Zayn again. They strolled through the castle, ascending the stairs to the second floor. Turning the opposite direction from Zayn’s room, Liam paused on the balcony.

“Can I… uhm… would you mind if I covered your eyes?”

“Why?” Zayn eyed him warily, anxiety filling him at the unexpected question.

“It’s just - I’d like it to be a surprise.” Liam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, obviously excited, but also nervous. His eyes held a pleading look, not unlike a child anticipating a treat. “I promise, no harm will come to you, but if it makes you uncomfortable, perhaps you could just close your eyes?”

Zayn couldn’t help wondering when the last time was that Liam had been able to surprise anyone with anything, given his isolation in the castle. For that matter, from the little Liam had said, Zayn wondered if Liam had ever bothered to do anything for anyone else, ever. His heart softened for the man trapped inside the monstrous form towering over him.

“Is the surprise inside a room? Behind a door?”

Liam appeared to ponder the questions, almost as if wondering if he could maintain the secret. “Yes,” he answered, slowly drawing out the individual sound of each letter.

“I’ll agree to the blindfold on one condition. Allow me to make my way to the room with my eyes uncovered, then you may cover them before opening the door.”

Liam nodded his assent and they continued down the corridor, coming to a halt before a set of double doors near the end.

“We’re here.” Liam tugged on the sleeve of the formal jacket he wore. “If the blindfold makes you uncomfortable, and you promise not to peek, I’ll be happy with you simply closing your eyes.”

“You would take me at my word?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll take you at yours that no harm will come to me.” Zayn closed his eyes. “Please don’t tie it too tightly, though.”

Silky fabric slid across Zayn’s face, followed by the gentle tug of it being secured behind his head. He heard the deep creak of the doors as they were opened. The fur on Liam’s paws felt soft and warm when he took Zayn’s hands and led him forward. Liam came to a stop, steadying Zayn when he wobbled.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, ‘M good.”

The fabric slid away, and Liam spoke, his voice soft and hesitant. “You can open your eyes.”

Zayn did as instructed, blinking rapidly at the sudden change in lighting, then gasped at the sight.

“I - oh my God!” Zayn exclaimed, trying to take in everything about the room.

He stood in the middle of a two story library, books surrounding him on every side. Tall windows filled the spaces between the expansive shelves, the draperies thrown wide to allow the sun to stream through, bathing the room in light. A fire danced merrily in a sitting area on the lower level, winged armchairs drawn up in front of it in a cosy seating arrangement that practically called Zayn’s name, inviting him to sit and lose himself in the tomes on the shelves.

Zayn turned slowly, taking in every aspect of the room, stopping when he once again faced Liam, grabbing his hand in excitement.

“This- I - oh my! All of these books!”

“Do you like it?” Liam stared at Zayn, his eyes hopeful, seemingly holding his breath as he waited for an answer.

“It’s amazing! Who wouldn’t like it?” Zayn walked toward the nearest shelf, still holding Liam’s hand, encouraging him to come along. “There’s so many books! Have you read all of these?”

“Not all of them - but a good portion. It’s been awhile since I had anyone but the staff to spend time with. The books broke the monotony of my solitude, gave me other worlds to lose myself in.”

Zayn leaned closer to peer at the titles on the shelf in front of him. Removing one well worn tome, he opened it, skimming over the pages.

“May I borrow this? I’ll take care of it.”

“Take whatever you like. The library is yours.”

“Thank - wait, what?” Zayn closed the book, cradling it against his chest, the rest of Liam’s words sinking in. “It’s mine?”

Liam nodded.

“But - how? Why would you do that?”

“Does it bring you joy?”

“Of course it does! Literature and art are my greatest passions.”

“The light in your eyes, your smile -” Liam shrugged, his nonchalance belied by the way his paw nervously plucked at the lace of his cuff, “those are the only reasons I need.”

Liam’s second gift came as unexpectedly as the first, without quite the fanfare. They finished lunch and Zayn had stood, intending to return to his room to change into warmer clothes for their walk, when Liam stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Before you go, I have something to show you.”

Liam offered his arm, and Zayn, perplexed over what it might be, accepted. Together they strolled along the wide main corridor. Portraits lined the walls, most in disrepair, but displaying an obvious chronological history of the castle’s inhabitants through the years. Zayn paused in front of a large portrait of a family. A man and woman were seated in the middle, two daughters behind them, and a young boy leaning into his mother’s side. Zayn looked closely, recognizing the same eyes he saw every day.

“It’s your family, isn’t it?”

“It was. They’ve been gone many years.” Liam’s tone was sad, and Zayn glanced up at him to see grief reflected in his eyes. “They were traveling to meet Nicola’s affianced and make the final arrangements for her wedding. There was a terrible accident at sea, and all aboard ship were lost. I’d been left behind to finish my school term. I was supposed to join them the following week.” Liam swallowed hard, looking away from the portrait. “Instead, I was left alone with appointed guardians who were more than content to leave a fifteen year old boy to his own devices, whilst they attempted to take control of my father’s holdings. Little did they know their efforts would be futile. I dismissed the lot of them once I reached my majority and came into my own.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t do that.” Liam shook his head. “Don’t pity me.”

“I don’t. What happened was a tragedy no one should ever have to bear, let alone a child. And then to be left in the care of people who were indifferent to your loss? It’s unconscionable.”

Liam nodded, turning Zayn away from the painting. “What’s done is done. Come. Let me lighten the mood.”

They moved on down the hallway, Zayn taking note of the next portrait on the wall, but wisely chose not to call attention to it. The painting had been slashed to ribbons, the strips of canvas still hanging within it’s frame. The same eyes greeted him again, somehow sadder and haunted, the face older, more mature, and from what remained of the portrait, stunningly handsome. Not for the first time, Zayn wondered what had happened to leave the castle in its current state, and it’s master transfigured into a beast.

His questions were left unanswered, and all but forgotten, when Liam opened the doors in front of them.

It was obvious they had entered a ballroom. The parquet floor had been laid in a concentric pattern of overlapping circles, expanding out from the center of the room. A raised oval dais, much like those used by an orchestra, encompassed one side of the room, a wall of windows bathing the room in sunlight. On the dais stood an easel and desk, alongside an open cabinet.

“Is that-”

“Go.” Liam gestured toward the furnishings. “Let me know if there’s anything necessary missing so that we may acquire it for you.”

Zayn squeezed Liam’s arm, darting off to see what Liam had created for him now. For all intents and purposes, the space had been repurposed into an artist’s studio. The cabinet held chests of pens and pencils, bound booklets, and a varied size assortment of canvases. Further inspection also found tubes of paint and a collection of brushes.

When Liam joined him, Zayn whirled with delight, meeting Liam’s indulgent gaze.

“How did you know?”

“The day I gave you the library, you mentioned literature and art were your passions. I assumed you were simply interested in works of art by the Great Masters. When I asked Louis where I might find books to appeal to your interests, he mused that by art you might have meant creating it, as he’d seen sketches in your room.” Liam opened a deep drawer in the desk as he spoke, revealing a stack of drawing paper. "The desk also contains more supplies for you. I confess, I know little about art, but I remembered a book that described in detail an art studio, so I used it as a reference to compile things I thought you might want or need. And one thing I have always seen stressed about a studio is how important having a good source of natural light is. This room was the only one that offered an abundance of windows that could fill that requirement.”

“This is for me?”

“If you want it.” Liam stepped back, waving casually in the direction of the ballroom doors. “If not, I’ll have the guards cart everything away, and we’ll never speak of it again.”

“Don’t you dare!” Zayn exclaimed.

“The studio meets with your approval?”

“I doubt Rembrandt himself could find fault with this!” Zayn retorted.

Removing a sheet of paper, Zayn dug through the chest of drawing pencils and selected a couple. He leaned over the desk, roughing out some reference lines. WIth quick, assured strokes, he filled the paper with a sketch of Winston playing outside near the dormant fountain in the courtyard. He handed it to Liam, rocking back on his heels nervously, holding his breath in anticipation of Liam’s impression.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well- Louis didn’t lie.” Emotions played across Liam’s face - a gentle smile curled his lips, overshadowed by a flicker of pain in his eyes, that melted away to a soft fondness. Zayn pondered the reasons behind each one.

“About what?”

“You are quite a talented artist. Not that I doubted Louis’ words, but to see you so quickly create this - I’m impressed, and a little in awe. Can I - may I - keep this?”

Zayn was taken aback by the request, but readily agreed. “It was quickly done, and is quite rough, but yes, of course. If you truly want it.”

“I'll put it in my study where I can see it often.” Liam replied, with a bow, sincerity in every word. “I’ll… just… uhmmm…” Liam turned, stepping off the dias. He inclined his head in Zayn’s direction. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Please enjoy your studio.”

“Wait,” Zayn called out, stopping Liam before he left the room. “We haven’t had our walk today.”

“I thought, under the circumstances-”

Zayn crossed the room, resting his hand on Liam’s sleeve.

“The studio is wonderful, and I plan to spend copious amounts of time here, but I also look forward to our walks in the garden. Unless you don’t want-” Zayn’s voice trailed off, unwilling to complete the thought. He cleared his throat, removing his hand from Liam’s arm and shoving it into his pocket. “If you’re needed elsewhere, I understand.”

“”No, no. Not at all. We can visit the gardens, if you wish.” Liam opened the door of the library, calling out to Louis who lurked in the hallway. “Please have Zayn’s cloak brought downstairs. We’ll be walking in the gardens this afternoon.”

Louis snapped to attention. “The cloaks are at the ready, Sir. I’d already taken the liberty of having them brought down, prior to you informing me of your plans with regards to the studio. The air seems warmer, and I felt it prudent to go with something lighter than the fur-lined cloak.”

“Well then,” Liam stepped back, motioning for Zayn to exit before him. “It seems all is in order. Let’s walk, shall we?”

The two of them began to fall into a routine. Zayn, prone to late nights spent reading and drawing, often slept in, settling for a light breakfast in his room. He and Liam would meet in the dining room at mid-day to share lunch, followed by a stroll around the gardens.

Zayn would retreat to the converted ballroom in the afternoon to while away the hours immersed in his art - sketches littering every available surface, painted canvases leaning against the walls. Liam rarely intruded on Zayn’s time there, content with small glimpses in the mirror to ensure Zayn had whatever he needed. He’d only allowed himself the luxury of visiting the studio on a handful of occasions, surprising Zayn with afternoon tea, and praising the art Zayn had shyly shared with him.

They dined together every night, retiring to the library once the meal was cleared away. Initially the time had been spent in companionable silence, but over time, they took to sharing snippets from whatever book they were each reading, as well as discussing the themes the author seemed to be expressing. Zayn found his knowledge easily matched by Liam’s, and when he said as much, Liam demurred, insisting it was only due to frequent rereads that he had any insight at all.

And so time moved on. Zayn stopped counting the days, settling into an almost platonic domesticity. He often forgot he was, in essence, still a prisoner in the castle. It was so easy to forget his circumstances, given Liam’s generous gifts and deference. He hadn’t forgotten his family either, their loss a whispering pain in his heart. His solace lay in that they were safe, and he hoped he still lived on in their memories.

Liam lounged in his chair in the study, half-heartedly listening to Louis’ morning update of the affairs of the castle. It was an age-old tradition, but one Liam found completely useless given their circumstances. They lived in isolation, the outside world unaware of the castle’s existence. No one grew old. No one died. They simply... existed. He didn’t care if the upstairs maid and the downstairs maid weren’t speaking. They were sisters, they’d get over it.

“… the leaks in the East Wing. There is also an issue with the stable’s roof, and the Head Groomsman has requested you visit with him at your earliest convenience. The unexpected thawing has caused some unforeseen circumstances. There’s also that matter of the litter of puppies.”

“Puppies? We have puppies?” Liam excitedly exclaimed then quickly sobered, realizing the import of what it meant. “Wait? How are there puppies? That’s impossible.”

“Sire. Changes are occuring. When was the last time it snowed? Birds have returned to the gardens. I’m certain I saw bees just yesterday. You walk the paths every day. Surely you’ve noticed!”

Liam had noticed, but he didn’t dare hope for a change for his fate. The rose continued to wilt, the little box where he saved each precious petal nearly full of it’s strewn finery. How much time did he truly have left before it was too late?

“Master? May I ask a question?” Louis’ voice was soft, hesitant.

“What is it, Louis?” Liam sighed, already knowing his childhood playmate rarely tread lightly when addressing him out of earshot of the rest of the castle’s inhabitants.

“Do you care for him?”

Liam leaned forward, burying his face in the massive paws that had become more natural to him than the hands he’d once possessed.

“What does it matter? My feelings are only half of the equation. My heart can love all it wants. If the feelings aren’t reciprocated, the curse will endure. Not only will I be trapped for eternity like this,” Liam sat up, gesturing at himself, “but I’ll do so with a broken heart. It would be the cruelest twist of all.”

“Perhaps-”

“No. Don’t say it, Louis. Hope is fleeting. If this is my fate, then I accept it for the selfish, self-centered vanity of my youth. I only wish you and the others hadn’t been forced to suffer for my mistakes.”

“We were just as guilty, Sire. We indulged and coddled you, when we should have offered stability and guidance.”

“Louis, please do me a favor. Actually, two.”

Of course.”

“First, I do not wish to speak of this again. It is what it is, and whatever is meant to happen will play out in it’s due time.”

“As you wish, Sire.” Louis bowed his head deferentially.

“And second - do not call me “Sire” ever again. Do not call me “Master.” Do not call me “Sir”. Do not bow or grovel to me. We have known each other most of our lives. You are, and have always been, my friend, since long before we realized there was a class difference between us. Please, for the sake of the friendship we’ve shared these many years, call me by my name.”

“Of course.” Louis replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Of course, Liam.”

Lost in thought, Liam followed Zayn through the garden. The changes Louis had spoken of that morning were visible all around him, a profound reminder of time slipping through his fingers. Pathways once edged in glistening snow now shimmered in the sun, patches of new grass and damp earth visible. Trees whose branches once hung heavy under their wintery finery stretched toward the sun, tips verdant with tightly furled buds. Spring was returning to the castle, washing away the incessant winter they’d endured for so long. Whether he would greet it as a man or a beast remained unknown, but regardless of his outward form, he was not the person he’d been the fateful long ago night. He lengthened his steps to bring himself alongside Zayn, who had stopped to admire a bubbling fountain. Before Zayn could ruminate on the sudden activity, Liam offered a diversion.

“Are you afraid of horses?”

“I’ve never ridden one, but no, I’m not afraid of them.” Zayn turned away from the fountain to meet Liam’s questioning gaze. “Why?”

“I have to visit the stables and wondered if you might wish to accompany me. I’m also told there’s a litter of pups weaning, and-”

Zayn’s eyes widened, his face beaming with excitement. “Puppies? Really?”

His unabashed joy sent an unfamiliar twinge to Liam’s heart. He rubbed his chest, hoping to ease the tight feeling.

“Mmhhmm. They should be named. You can help choose them, if you like.” Liam looked down at Zayn, hoping his attempt at a smile wasn’t terrifying. “Someone recently told me that names matter.”

“It’s true.” Zayn leaned closer, his fingers tucked into the bend of Liam’s elbow. He fell silent, then glanced up, his expression sincere. “They’re so important - Liam.”

The tightness returned to Liam’s chest, accompanied by a warm glow that left him almost breathless in its intensity. Taking a slow breath to steady himself, Liam opened the stable door, stepping back to allow Zayn to enter before him, ducking under the lintel when he followed him inside. . Stalls lined the side of the meticulously maintained room, rakes and shovels busily cleaning out the old hay and laying new. Horses peered through gates of several stalls, curious to see who had entered their space. A majestic ebony stallion pawed the ground, a nicker of recognition breaking the silence.

“Oh!” Zayn slipped his hand off Liam’s arm and stepped closer to the stall. “What a beautiful animal!” He lifted his hand, pausing to look back over his shoulder at Liam. “Can I?”

“Yes, of course. Raven is- was - my horse. He’s an absolute charmer with a gentle soul.”

Zayn stroked the horse’s muzzle, stifling a laugh when Raven butted his chest.

“Here,” Liam’s paw reached over Zayn’s shoulder, a pile of sugar cubes in his hand. “He’s looking for these.” Zayn accepted the treat with a murmur of thanks. “I need to speak with the Head Groomsman. I’ll leave you two to become better acquainted. We can find the puppies afterward.”

Raven arched his neck through the bars, whinnying. Liam petted the horse’s neck, regret and remorse replacing the unnerving warmth he’d felt before he entered the barn. He rarely visited the stables, letting others take care of the animals. Being there only dredged up the memories of his dissolute youth, reminding him of all he’d lost due to his own folly. He supposed he should be grateful Raven had been spared the enchantress’ wrath. Nonetheless, the loss of the freedom he’d enjoyed riding around the countryside astride Raven had left a festering pain that had yet to subside, despite the passage of time. Sighing softly, Liam slowly backed away. He set off to see what he needed to attend to around the stables.

Zayn contemplated the sudden change in Liam’s demeanor, noting the dejected slump of his shoulders, and wondered if he’d said or done something to make Liam uncomfortable.

Raven snorted, pushing his head through the bars to nip at the edge of Zayn’s cloak. He pranced in place, pawing at the ground, his tail swishing behind him.

“Bit fidgety, aren’t you? Bet you could use a proper run across the fields, huh? I’m not the man for that, as delightful as it might be. Perhaps Liam will take you out and… Oh!” Of course! The reason for Liam’s sudden reticence stood right in front of him. He’d said Raven was his. Given his massive size, there was no way Liam could still ride, not even a horse as sturdy as Raven appeared to be.

Zayn glanced around the bustling building, hoping Liam hadn’t peaced out and headed back to the castle. But, no. There he stood, speaking to… a pitchfork. A deferential pitchfork, if the way it appeared to be bowing was anything to go by, but a pitchfork, nonetheless. As Zayn observed their interactions, the pitchfork bowed once more, then walked away on its tines, leaving Liam alone again.

Zayn watched Liam move across the room, surprisingly agile despite his size. He hunched down near a mound of hay covered in blankets in a far corner, reaching out to pet a dog Zayn hadn’t noticed lying there. Small yips chimed through the air, several puppies rolling out of the makeshift bed to jump against Liam’s legs and clamour for his attention. He petted them each in turn, scooping them up one by one to press his face against their fur, all while comforting the anxious mother.

With a soft sigh, Zayn turned back to Raven and offered him the last of the sugar cubes Liam had given him. Leaning closer, he draped his arm around the horse’s neck and rested his cheek against its warm skin.

“I’m starting to think you’re not the only gentle soul in residence at the castle, my friend.”

Zayn sighed once more, confused by the feelings that knowledge awakened in him.

“Could you be happy?” Liam stood in front of the sun-drenched windows, his gaze fixated on the horizon, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was softer when he spoke again, almost wistful. “I mean here? With me?”

“I don’t -” Turning away from the easel, Zayn put down the paintbrush he’d been using. Slowly he wiped his hands, pondering the right words to voice the conflicting emotions that warred within him.

Could he be happy? He already was. Despite the lingering sense of loss at the thought of never seeing his family again, he’d come to know a different side of his captor.

Gone was the horrifying monster who had threatened him, revealing a confused creature, as out of place in this world as Zayn was, and in that knowledge, Zayn found solace. Affection had replaced his initial fear, the evolution of his emotions creating more inner turmoil than the surreal circumstances he’d found himself in. Only in the hidden recesses of his heart did he even dare to entertain the depths of his feelings, certain they could never be reciprocated.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Liam’s massive shoulders slump at the delay in his response, and Zayn tried to explain his hesitation.

“It’s just… my sister. My parents trusted me to take care of her, and I let them down. If only-” Zayn sighed. “It doesn’t matter.“

“What if there was a way to know she’s safe?” Liam turned, gentleness in his touch when he took Zayn’s hand in his paw. “Would you be content to stay with me?”

“I - yes. But-”

“Come with me.”

Liam led Zayn from the converted ballroom, guiding him down the hall to the study in the West Wing that had become his sanctuary after Zayn had taken up residence in the castle.

The table still occupied the middle of the room, the domed rose it’s centerpiece. The rose’s color had faded from the vibrant crimson Zayn remembered. Petals littered the table under it all in varying stages of decay and dehydration. Zayn watched another flutter to the table as they approached, sending a shiver along his spine. He recalled the last time he’d been in this room, and Liam’s fury when Zayn had touched the glass cover. That night had marked a turning point in the relationship between them, animosity replaced with mutual respect and understanding.

An aura of finality hung heavy in the air, it’s weight clawing at his throat and compressing his heart like a vice. Zayn didn't understand the importance or significance of the rose, but somehow he knew it was responsible for the melancholy he’d seen in Liam’s eyes.

A silver-plated hand mirror laid next to the rose on the wooden surface. Liam picked it up, pressing it tightly against his chest, before finally extending it toward Zayn.

“This mirror will show you whatever you wish to see.”

Zayn gingerly accepted the mirror. In the time since he’d taken up residence in the castle, he’d learned not to question the many mystical things he’d been exposed to. Looking into the glossy surface, he gathered his thoughts, then spoke aloud his request.

“Show me Doni.”

The surface of the mirror rippled, Zayn’s reflection fading away to reveal his sister lying motionless in a hospital bed. Two nurses hovered at the foot, the two of them studying a medical chart.

“She’s been here for nearly a week. No one knows her name or where she came from. She fainted and was brought in delirious with fever. The fever’s gone, but she’s still unconscious. Occasionally she calls out in her sleep, asking someone for forgiveness. If we knew more, we might be able to find them, maybe find out who she is.”

As they spoke, Doni’s hand clenched the sheets, her voice tearful as she muttered in her sleep, head thrashing on the pillow.

“Zayn. I’m sorry. So sorry. Zayn. Zayn!”

One of the nurses rubbed a comforting hand on Doni’s arm, shushing her as they smoothed and straightened the covers.

“It’s so sad that we can’t do more for her.”

“My sister! She needs me! Please! I have to go to her!” Zayn clutched Liam’s arm, beseechingly staring into the warm, earthen depths of his eyes. The shimmer of unshed tears turned them copper in the fire’s glow, and his voice became thick, almost gruff, when he spoke.

“Go.”

“What?” Dumbfounded, Zayn searched Liam’s face, praying Liam wasn’t having him on.

“I absolve you of your debt.” Liam turned away, his gravelly voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re free to leave.”

“Thank you!” Zayn exclaimed, impulsively hugging Liam before swiping the tears from his own eyes. “Thank you. Hang on Doni, I’m coming!” He laid the mirror on the table and quickly rushed toward the door.

“Zayn?”

“Yes?” Zayn turned back around to see Liam extending the mirror toward him.

“So you can look back - and remember me.”

Zayn took the mirror, then laid a hand against Liam’s cheek. “I could never forget you.”

He quickly turned away again, leaving the room without a backward glance.

“You’re leaving? But… why?”

“I have to, Lottie. My sister is ill and my family doesn’t know.” Zayn gathered the pile of his own clothing out of the chest by the bed. Clothes he’d been more than content to forget about while living in Liam’s world. “Now if you could-”

“Oh of course.” Lottie heaved herself around, her doors fluttering in consternation. “But you’ll return, right? Once your sister is well?”

Zayn quickly changed out of the breeches and loose poet shirt he’d become accustomed to, setting them aside with a regretful sigh. “I… I don’t know.” He sat down in the chair, stifling a smile when the ottoman shoved his boots toward him. He tugged on the battered Doc Martens, already missing the buttery-soft leather of the cavalier boots Louis had found for him.

“But I don’t -” Lottie huffed in annoyance. “Can I turn back around now?”

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” He tugged the laces tight, then stood, haphazardly shoving papers and books into a satchel, along with the mirror.

“I don't understand. You smile all the time. I heard you singing!” Lottie’s tone was petulant. “Don’t you like us anymore?”

“I never said I didn’t care for all of you. Of course I do! But Doniya needs me and I have to go to her.” He slung the bag over his shoulder, then rifled through the drawers to find his long-dead cell phone. “Louis would do the same for you and you know he would.”

“What about the Master? Surely you’ll miss him? You like him, don’t you?”

“I - what?” Zayn spun around, distractedly checking for anything he might have missed. “Well, yes. Of course I do, he’s kind, considerate, thoughtful. ” Zayn sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I can’t find my jacket. Have you seen it?”

Lottie’s doors slammed shut. Stubbornly she persisted. “You can’t just leave. We need you here, just a little longer. If you truly cared about us you’d stay!”

“It’s complicated, Lottie! She’s my sister, my responsibility.” He paused in his frantic searching, and glared at the wardrobe. “Give me my jacket, Lottie.”

“Promise you’ll come back.”

“I won’t make a promise I might not be able to keep. Now stop acting like a brat and give me my jacket. I have to leave! For al lI know it might already be too late!” Zayn’s terse words turned into an exasperated shout.

The jacket flew across the room, Lottie’s doors slamming with a huff. Zayn scooped the jacket off the bed, tugging it on as he ran out the door, his words flying behind him. “Good-bye, Lottie. I’m sorry! Please take care of him for me.”

“You let him leave?” Harry stared at Liam as if he’d grown another head. “We were so close! Why would you do that?”

“I had no right to keep him here. I never did.” Liam stared stoically out the window watching the carriage carry Zayn away from the castle to return him to the outside world. “He has a life - a real life - and people who need him.”

“We needed him, Sire!” Louis interjected, his voice harsh.

Liam flinched, growling a warning. “Louis-”

“Sorry, Liam. Old habits die hard.” Louis said, contrite. “But it’s just - after all these years-” Louis gave a hopeless shrug.

“He was our only chance!” Harry wailed.

“There are still six petals left. Maybe-” Niall interjected, hope still in his voice. “He’ll be back, right? Once he’s taken care of his family.”

“He’s under no obligation to return.” When he could no longer see any trace of dust from the carriage’s wheels, Liam returned to sit at his desk.

“Why?” Harry demanded. “You could have compelled him, forced him to return as soon as he’d made the necessary arrangements for his sister’s care.”

“No I couldn’t. I love him and his happiness is the most important thing in the world to me, even if it means letting him go and losing my humanity at the same time.” Liam slumped in his chair, eyeing the dying rose across the room as he continued. “Love isn’t a tether, it’s giving someone the wings they need to soar. I gave Zayn his freedom. If he comes back, it’s because he chose this. Because he chose me.”

“Zee?”

Zayn snapped awake at the raspy sound of Doniya’s feeble voice. He sat up, leaning over the bed to press the nurse’s call button, even as he wrapped his sister in a hug.

“Wallah! Fuck’s sake, Doni! You scared the shit out of me!”

“What’s going on? I scared you?” Doniya struggled to sit up. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital.” Zayn eased her back down on the bed, then sat back down, taking her hand. “No, love. Don’t try to sit up yet. Wait for the nurses.”

“Why am I in the hospital? How long have I been here?”

“You’ve had a really high fever and were admitted to hospital when you collapsed at a coffee shop. From what I’ve pieced together, you’ve been here since the night after you left the castle. They say it’s only been a week, but I know it’s been months since I last saw you.”

“Then- shit! It was real!” Doniya’s eyes widened and she glanced nervously at the closed door. “I remember - things. Like snippets on a blurry TV. From when I first came here, I guess. I think I tried to get help and they said I was suffering from delusions.”

Zayn snorted. “Delusions my arse. If it’s a delusion, then we’d both be suffering from it, and I’m not feverish.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s real. All of it.”

“How long have you been here? Wait! How did you escape?”

“I didn’t. Liam let me leave when we discovered you were sick. I found you here yesterday afternoon.”

“Liam? Who’s Liam?” Doniya tightened her grip on Zayn’s hand. “And how did you know I was sick?”

“Liam is the owner of the castle.” Even in Zayn’s mind, he couldn’t refer to Liam as a beast. Not when he knew that, regardless of his outward appearance, Liam was a kind, gentle man. “He has a-”

Doniya gasped, a flash of fear crossing her face.

“That awful beast? He let you leave?”

He’s not awf-” Zayn’s defense was cut off by the door opening.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Malik?” The nurse entered the room, her attention focused on the chart in her hand. “I noticed the call light-” She glanced up, her serious demeanor morphing into a full-blown smile. “Oh! You’re awake! Wonderful!” Pulling a phone from her pocket, she called the desk, requesting Doniya’s doctor be paged to her room. “Thankfully, Dr. Morris is still in the hospital. He should be here momentarily.”

As she spoke, the nurse busied herself with checking all of Doniya’s vitals, updating the whiteboard behind the bed with the most recent results.

“Are you having any dizziness? Headache? Blurry vision?”

“A bit. I’m so tired.” As if to punctuate her words, Doniya stifled a wide yawn. “I feel super weak. Like I’m moving in slow motion.”

“All of that’s normal, given the circumstances, but we’ll be monitoring your symptoms to make sure they’re not indicative of anything serious.” The nurse, Lizzie according to her name tag, pulled the bottom corner of the blanket loose from the bed. Drawing a nail up Doniya’s foot, she nodded with a smile when Doniya jerked her foot away in response. “We’ve had a physical therapist in here to move your joints to keep them from stiffening, but the weakness is to be expected. Once you’re up and moving around again- Ah! Dr. Morris.”

“Good morning, Lizzie.” The doctor acknowledged the nurse, moving to Doniya’s bedside. “And good morning to you, too, young lady. You gave us all quite a scare. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Confused. I don’t even know how I ended up here or why.”

“Can you tell me what the last thing is that you do remember before waking up this morning?”

Zayn met Doniya’s eyes over the doctor’s shoulder, vehemently shaking his head and mouthing ‘Say nothing” once he had her attention.

Doni moved her head, an almost imperceptible nod.

“I don’t really… Uhhh…. I… hmmmmm.”

Doniya closed her eyes, whether to recall what she could from before Zayn found her at the castle or to come up with a convincing lie, Zayn had no idea. He just hoped she understood why she needed to say nothing.

“Zayn went to London to meet up with his mates from home before they all started their fall terms.” Zayn watched the play of emotions on her face as she struggled to align the events prior to her illness. “I remember leaving the flat to walk to the shops. And I remember trees. A lot of trees.” Doniya opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. “The next thing I remember is waking up to Zayn sleeping in that chair over there.”

“Mmhhmm.” The doctor hummed, checking Doniya’s pupils. “I spoke with your brother when he arrived yesterday. Do you remember why you’re in the MIdlands?”

“For school - my thesis. I’m studying to be an architect.’” Doniya yawned again. “Im sorry, excuse me.”

“You’re fine dear. It’s going to take a few days for your mind and body to adapt to not being asleep all the time.” Dr. Morris finished his examination, then pulled over a chair to sit down next to the bed. “So tell me some more about your thesis. What would bring an architect out here? We’re preserving buildings, not building new ones.”

“That’s actually the reason why I chose this area. I’m interested in historical preservation and restoration. We found a small cottage to let for the year, and Zayn came with me so I wasn’t alone. Oh!” Doniya’s eyes snapped to her brother, and Zayn saw a new wave of panic on her face. “Mum and Dad! Oh no! They have no idea!”

“It’s fine, Doni. They’re still in Pakistan. I didn’t want to alarm them until I knew more. I told them you’d been out of touch because you were having issues with your phone, and that I’d have you call the next time you surfaced. I made it seem like it was your focus on your thesis that had you distracted. They bought it - for now.”

The doctor nodded. “Probably good not to alarm them, then, if they’re out of the country.” He turned his focus back to Doniya. “We’re going to bring you a liquid diet for lunch, probably dinner, too. Tomorrow, we’ll gradually reintroduce solid food, get you up out of that bed and moving around, maybe take that IV out if your temperature stays down. We might even have you out of here before the weekend.”

Doctor Morris signed off on the orders and handed Doniya’s chart to Lizzie. He patted Doniya’s arm as he prepared to leave. “For now, though, young lady, your job is to rest and regain your strength. I’ll be by on my rounds in the morning to check in with you again.”

Turning to Zayn, he added, “ It’s my understanding you stayed here last night. While I’d encourage you to go home and get some sleep, I suspect that’s not going to happen. Just see that you aren’t wearing yourself out. I don’t want both of you in here.”

Zayn nodded. “Yes sir. I won’t.”

“I’ll contact Housekeeping, Mr. Malik. We can get a reclining chair in here. It’ll be more comfortable than that one.”

“Thanks Lizzie. I’d appreciate it.” Zayn inclined his head, a teasing lilt in his voice. “The last time I let her out of my sight, she ended up here, so if it’s all the same, I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“Hey!” Doniya protested, over her brother’s chuckle. “It’s not like I decided to catch a fever! Maybe if you hadn’t - ”

Zayn’s lifted his eyebrow and widened his eyes in warning.

“And on that note, I’ll leave you two to your sibling bickering.” Lizzie laughed, exiting the room, the door swinging shut behind her.

“I am still older than you, Zayn Javaad Malik, and if you think, for one minute-”

“Doni, any threat you issue right now is going to hold zero weight, considering you can’t even walk to the loo by yourself, love. Save it for later.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do! Like, first of all, you’re friends with that monster? And what do you mean you felt like you were gone for months? And how did you find out I was sick? What the hell is going on, Zee?”

“Magic, Doni. It’s all magic. It’s the only explanation.”

“I had a fever, not lost my mind. There’s no such thing as magic.”

“Right, of course. Liam is someone cosplaying in a furry costume, the castle is an abandoned movie set, and candlesticks always talked, we just never listened before.” Zayn’s words dripped with sarcasm. “Give me another explanation, then. Because I’m the one who spent months in that castle - and yet it’s barely been a week since you left. So if that’s not some kind of magic, then there’s a loop in the space time continuum, and apparently I fell into it. Neither sounds remotely plausible, Doni - but it happened. It happened, and there’s nothing that will convince me it didn’t. Surreal as it all is, it’s the truth, and the memories will stay with me the rest of my life.”

Doniya quickly regained her health and strength. By the third night, she was insisting Zayn go home and give her some peace.

Zayn returned to the cottage that he’d supposedly only left two weeks earlier. He entered it’s dismal interior and wrinkled his nose at the smell of neglect that hung in the air. Dumping his backpack in his room, he busied himself setting the rooms to rights and preparing everything to bring Doniya back home. Once he’d finished, he made a quick trip to the shops to restock the fridge with all of her favorite foods. Only then did he take the time to brew a cuppa, pausing to survey the fruits of his labor.

Despite it’s cozy interior and the presence of all their personal belongings, the cottage felt empty and lifeless after his time away. Even with its lack of actual people, the castle had seemed to actually vibrate, energy pouring from every brick and beam.

Building a small fire in the fireplace against the evening’s chill, Zayn eschewed the lamp in favor of lighting a candle to dispel the darkness. He curled up on the sofa and stared into the burnished flames, trying not to remember the quiet evenings he’d spent in the library with Liam. It had only been a few days, but it felt as if it had been a different lifetime, long ago. He drifted off to sleep, his dreams haunted with images of the castle, all traces of neglect gone, it’s rooms restored to their former glory. A tall, chestnut-haired man strode through the corridors, his voice melodic as a bell when he called out a greeting. Familiar brown eyes gently crinkled when he turned to smile in Zayn’s direction, only to wisp away into the ether when Zayn’s phone rang and jerked him awake.

“They’re letting me come home today, Zee!” Doniya’s excited voice greeted his muttered hello, dragging him back to reality. “Doctor Morris was just in and gave the all clear.”

“That’s great! Did they say what time?” Zayn sat up, scrubbing his hand over his face, the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. “Do I have time to grab a shower? I fell asleep on the sofa after cleaning, and I could use a washing up.”

“Hold on a second.” He heard Doniya talking to someone in the background. “The nurse said it’ll be at least a couple hours. They need to do one last set of blood tests and process all the discharge paperwork. I need you to grab me something to wear, though. I don’t even know what happened to the clothes I had on.”

“They’re here. I brought them back yesterday when I left and washed them. I’ll just bring them back with me.”

“No! Not those.” Doniya quickly interjected, her tone anxious. Zayn frowned, but let it slide. “Maybe just my red jumper and a pair of joggers, some clean underclothes. My trainers.”

“Okay, yeah. I can do that. I’ll be there in a bit. Let me just get cleaned up.”

He ended the call and looked around the room again in the clear light of day. Still empty and foreign, and no longer his home. A painful longing filled Zayn’s chest. He quickly tamped it down. What he wanted didn’t matter. He had a duty to his family, and that superseded anything he might have chosen for himself. With a reconciled sigh, he stood and faced the day.

“You’ve sat staring out that window for the last two days. What’s so intriguing?” Doniya spoke behind him, startling Zayn out of his reverie. She shifted the curtains to take a look, then stared quizzically at him.

“Don’t look at me like that, it creeps me out.”

“Like what?” Doniya frowned.

“Like Mum does when she thinks I’m hiding something from her.”

“Welllllll - I mean, you kind of are.”

“I thought we agreed it wasn’t worth upsetting Mum and Baba since you’re home and doing fine?” Zayn sighed in exasperation, moving away from the window to sit on the sofa. “It’s been almost three weeks, and you’re having second thoughts now?”

“I actually wasn’t talking about that, I just meant that you’re still keeping secrets.” Doniya sat down next to him. She studied his face, and Zayn dropped his eyes to avoid her searching gaze. “You don’t talk about it.”

“Why should I?” Zayn shrugged, still looking away. “It obviously distresses you, and it’s in the past. I can’t spend my life lost in the memories and what-ifs.”

“You miss it?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “How could you? You were imprisoned by a- a- By that- thing!”

“Don’t, Doni.” Zayn said softly, the warning in his words evident. “Don’t speak on things you know nothing about. I wasn’t treated like a prisoner, and Liam is not a thing.”

“Well he certainly wasn’t a person.” Doniya sniffed with disdain.

“Maybe not on the outside, but he was more humane and kind than some actual people I’ve had to deal with.” Zayn shoved himself off the sofa. “Leave it, Doniya. I won’t tolerate you speaking ill of him.”

Walking to his room, Zayn shoved the door shut, effectively ending the conversation. He flopped onto the unmade bed. He closed his eyes, thinking he might take a nap, but the minute he did, the images from his dreams returned to haunt him, just as they had every night since his return. Snapping his eyes back open, he cast around for something to occupy his mind, to dispel the memories that threatened to drown him in their bittersweet reminiscing. His eyes fell on his abandoned backpack, still laying on the chair where he’d dropped it weeks ago.

Zayn rolled to his side, reaching over the edge of the bed to snag a shoulder strap on his bag and drag it back to himself. Unzipping the front pocket, he pulled out the sketchbook he’d haphazardly shoved inside that last night at the castle. He let the bag fall off the bed and opened the book, a pencil falling from the page he’d last been working on. The image leapt off the page, a carefully detailed drawing of Raven picking his way through the slushy, snow covered pasture behind the stables. He drew in a staggered breath, certain he smelt the crisp freshness of the cool air and the emerging grasses, heard the welcoming nicker of the horse’s greeting when he’d stepped over to the fence rail.

“Hello, my friend. Are you getting on alright, then?” Zayn whispered, his fingers stroking the clean lines of the horse’s muzzle. He shot a guilty glance at the door, then back to the page in front of him. “I haven’t forgotten you. Any of you.”

Turning to a fresh page, Zayn picked up the pencil. Taking a slow, steadying breath, he closed his eyes and let the images he’d been avoiding flood his mind. When he opened his eyes again, his hand was already moving across the paper, desperate to preserve the memories, just in case there came a time they began to slip away.

When he first returned from the castle to care for Doniya, Zayn had applied for, and been granted, a deferment from school, citing a family emergency. With hours of free time stretching in front of him every morning, his art became his obsession, and he threw himself into it with grim determination. Page after page in the sketchbook was filled, each one a tangible reminder of an experience he could never share with anyone else. When the weather permitted, he’d escape outside, finding a quiet bench in the park where he couldn’t feel the weight of Doniya’s judgemental scrutiny. The one time she’d casually asked what he was drawing, Zayn had slammed the book shut, almost growling when she reached for it.

When his hands cramped and he couldn’t hold the pencil another minute, he turned to books. A small bookshop in the village offered a steady supply of titles, and the shelves in his room quickly filled up as well, though in no way able to compete with the expansive selection he’d had in his library at the castle. He read late into the night, more than once looking up when he came across something he wanted to share with Liam, before remembering he wasn’t there to listen. At other times, a passage would leap off the pages, the rumbling timbre of Liam’s voice reading it aloud in his mind, and Zayn would let the memory engulf him, the yearning for those quiet moments an enduring ache in his heart.

Doniya, buried once again in her research, paid him little mind. In fact, other than mealtimes, Zayn spent the majority of his time alone and left to his own devices. While he appreciated the lack of inquiry into how he spent his day, it also left him feeling lonely and alone. And so two more weeks passed.

The soft rap of Doniya’s knuckles on his bedroom door woke Zayn early one morning, now almost six weeks since his return. He rolled over, the book of poetry he’d been reading when he fell asleep digging into his side. He moved the book to his night table and called out for her to come in.

“I need to go over to the library to do some research in the microfiche records. I’ve misplaced my laptop bag. Do you have a bag or something I can borrow?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Zayn rubbed his hand across his eyes. “I always used my backpack. Let me just-” Zayn pushed himself to a sitting position. “It’s over there-” Zayn waved toward the chair, his words drifting off when he realized it wasn’t where he thought it was.

“I left it - oh wait, no.” Sliding off the bed, Zayn crouched down to look underneath and sat back up with the missing bag in hand. “I forgot I dropped it a while back.”

Doniya had her back to him, her eyes taking in the piles of paper and books that littered every surface. She turned back around, eyeing Zayn contemplatively.

“What?” Zayn felt a flush of embarrassed heat curl up his spine.

“Is this what you’ve been doing all this time?”

“I like art and books. You know that.” Zayn dropped the bag on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was going spare with nothing to do all day, and you’ve been busy.”

“But this-” Doniya picked up one of the drawings. “That’s that castle. I figured you’d have forgotten about it by now.”

“Do you need this or not?” Zayn asked in annoyance. He picked up his backpack, unzipping the pockets and pulling out the contents. He found a sheaf of papers in the interior pocket. The drawings of his family, created when he’d felt alone and needed a reminder of something he loved surrounding him, and - Oh.

Realization washed over him like a tidal wave, leaving his emotions battered and raw in the aftermath. He sank down on the bed, his hand still inside the bag. Absently he wrapped his hand around something smooth and pulled it out, the reflective surface capturing the morning sun and sending refractions of light to dance merrily on the walls.

The mirror.

It slipped from his hand to fall onto the bed, Liam’s words from that evening slamming into his mind and leaving him breathless.

So you can look back - and remember me.

“I can never forget you,” Zayn whispered in a broken sob.

“Zee?”

“Here-” Zayn shoved the bag at her. “Take it and go.”

“But-”

“I said get out! For once in your life, Doni, don’t pluck at me. Not now.”

He turned away from his sister and picked up the mirror, waiting for the click of the door as it closed behind her. When it came, he slumped onto the bed, the mirror cradled in his hands.

He could look. Simply ask the mirror, and he’d see Liam, instead of having to rely on his drawings to keep his image alive.

He cleared his throat, his voice timid when he finally mustered the courage to speak.

“Show me Liam.”

As it had before, the face of the mirror rippled, Zayn’s reflection fading away, only to be replaced by Liam’s study. Liam sat hunched in his chair, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Gone were the fine clothes he’d begun wearing while Zayn lived in the castle, and in their place were the tattered breeches once more. The room was dark, the draperies drawn taut across the windows, the fireplace left empty. Beyond the scene playing out in front of him, Zayn heard Louis’ voice.

“We can’t leave you alone!”

“You can and you will. Besides me, only the castle and it’s grounds are enchanted. Once you pass beyond its borders, the curse will be lifted, and you can all go about your lives, and forget all this ever happened. This curse is my burden to bear, not yours, and I won’t spend eternity with another regret piled on top of the mountain that will already haunt me.”

Gone was the soft tone Zayn had become accustomed to. What remained sounded defeated, hopeless, the unexpressed pain rending Zayn’s heart in two. He pressed a fist to his mouth, fighting the urge to cry out, lest it draw Doniya back into the room.

“Now leave and take everyone with you! Go now, before the last petal falls and it’s too late.”

Petal. The rose. Zayn stifled a gasp, even though no one could hear him. Of course. Liam’s fate was tied in some way to the rose. No wonder he’d been so protective of it. The image wavered, then refocused.

“I’ll do no such thing!” Louis moved into view, Harry right beside him, Niall behind. “You want us to send everyone else away? Fine. We’ll do that. But the three of us? This is our home, and you are our friend. We won’t abandon you.”

Zayn saw Niall and Harry nod in agreement.

“If you truly value my friendship, you’ll honor my wishes.” Liam leaned forward, bending down to their level. “This is my fate, not yours, and I’ll not have you bear it through no fault of your own. Knowing you’ve all reclaimed your lives will bring me solace once you’re gone.”

“There’s still time. We can send the others away, wait with you.” Harry chimed in, quiet desperation in his voice. “He could still come back.”

“It’s already been five days since the other petal fell. At most, there’s forty-eight hours left. I’ll be fine. I have his books and pictures to keep me company.” Liam sat back, resignation on his face. “It’s time, my friends. Go. Be happy. Adopt a family. Do it for me and all we’ve shared. Please.”

The mirror wavered, Liam slowly fading away, leaving Zayn staring at his own tear-streaked face. He dashed his arm across his eyes. He didn’t have time for an emotional breakdown, not when Liam needed him. He only hoped he’d make it in time, and that Liam would allow him back.

Finding another backpack, Zayn shoved the mirror inside, adding some personal mementos of his family to keep them alive in his mind. He pulled on clean clothes, then shrugged into his jacket.

Zayn knew he should tell Doniya in person, but he was afraid to waste any more time than he already had. He hastily scribbled a note to his sister, leaving it on the table with a sketch of the image of Liam that had haunted his dreams since leaving the castle.

He glanced around the small cottage one last time, then pulled the door shut behind him, breaking into a run.

Please let me find my way back, he prayed to himself as he set out, breaking into a run once he cleared the edge of the village.

D-

I don’t know if I’ll return, but know that if I don’t, I made this choice of my own free will. I need to follow my heart, and I left it behind when I left Liam. I have to try to find him. Be well. Stay safe. Know always that I love you all. I simply love him more.

~Z

“Son of a bitch!” Zayn slammed his hand against the large oak tree growing at the fork in the path.

He was going in circles. He’d suspected as much when he came across an identical fork in the road that he was certain he’d already passed. Tying his scarf to a low branch, he’d set off again, and now found himself once again under the shadows of its branches, his scarf merrily waving in the breeze. Zayn jerked the scarf down and sank to the ground under the tree.

“How fucking hard can it be to find a damn castle in the middle of the woods?” He banged his head against the tree trunk, the shock of the impact less painful than the vise constricting around his heart.

He wondered if he asked the mirror to show him the way to the castle, would it? Shrugging his backpack off his shoulders, Zayn opened it to retrieve the mirror, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

A sudden movement off to his right caught Zayn’s attention from the corner of his eye and he glanced up, expecting to see some wild animal darting into the underbrush. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes, positive the sun was playing tricks with his eyes, but no- three men were approaching on the path. They were leading a horse, bickering between themselves, and seemingly unaware of Zayn’s presence.

Shoving himself to his feet, Zayn stepped out of the shadows, his hand in the air with the intent on hailing them for assistance. Before he could say a word, they rushed up to him, speaking rapidly, talking over each other, and exclaiming his name. The horse bumped its head into his chest, catching him unaware. He fell back against the tree, his head slamming into the trunk.

“Ow, what the - Raven?” Zayn grabbed the horse’s bridle. “It is you!”

“Okay there, mate?” the shorter man asked, his voice oddly familiar.

“Of course he’s not okay, he’s just whacked his head on a tree,” the tallest man interrupted.

“Where did you get this horse?” Zayn asked, already fearing the reply.

The men continued talking around him, apparently not hearing his question.

“Have you come back, then?” the third man asked, his blue eyes staring at Zayn intently.

Something about the men felt familiar, but Zayn struggled to place them. He’d met very few people around the village, preferring his own company, especially after returning from the castle.

The tall man gripped his arm, his eyes pleading with Zayn. “Oh, please, yes. Say you’ve come back. He’s missed you so much.”

“He who?” Zayn shook off his hand, staring at each of them in confusion. “Have we met? Do I know you? And where did you get Liam’s horse?”

“Have we changed so much since you last saw us?” The first man asked, merriment twinkling in his eyes.

“Louis? Is that-Are you-” Zayn’s eyes widened in recognition. “But you - they - it can’t be!”

“It is I! In the flesh, so to speak!” Louis replied, making a sweeping bow with a bright laugh.

Zayn looked consideringly at the other men. “Harry?” He pointed to the tall one, receiving a smiling, vehement nod in return. “And you’re Niall.”

“I am. We are.” Niall confirmed. “Now that we’ve established who everyone is, can we get back to the matter at hand? Are you on your way to the castle?”

Zayn released Raven’s bridle, looping the leading rein over a tree branch.

“I have no idea what the hell is going on. I don’t understand why you’re all here, and human again. All I know is I saw Liam in the mirror, and he needs me. I’ve been wandering these fucking woods for hours trying to find the damn castle, so if you can help me with that-”

“You were coming back for him! I knew you would!” Harry exclaimed.

“Yeah, yeah, Harold, we know. You’re a hopeless romantic.” Louis said, his voice fond and soft as he spoke to his husband. He turned to Zayn. “There’ll be time to explain everything later, but for now, you need to hurry. Take Raven. He’ll get you straight to the castle.”

“I can’t ride a horse!”

Harry grabbed Raven’s bridle, leading him out into the clearing.

“You’ll be fine,” Louis insisted. “Raven likes you.”

“C’mon then!” Niall joined Harry and crouched next to Raven with his hands cupped.” Just step in and I’ll give you a boost up.”

“Is no one listening to me? I’ve never ridden a horse!” Zayn protested again, even as Louis dragged him toward the waiting horse.

“Just hang on. Raven will do the rest.” Louis reassured him, shoving him toward Niall. “There’s no time to argue Zayn! You’re Liam’s only chance now.”

Zayn huffed in frustration, grabbing the bridle. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Now step in with your foot and swing your other leg over his back.” Niall encouraged. “Harry, hold Raven steady.”

Between them all, they managed to get Zayn quickly mounted astride the horse.

“We’ll be right behind you.” Harry handed Zayn the reins while Louis spoke, patting his leg. "Now go! And good luck!”

Zayn shook his head in bemusement, but leaned over Raven’s neck to whisper in the horse’s ear.

“It’s on you now, boy. Take me home. Take me to Liam.”

The horse whinnied in response, shaking his head as he started walking, moving quickly into a light trot. Zayn wrapped the reins around his hand, twisting his fingers into Raven’s mane and leaning low over his neck. Almost as if sensing Zayn’s growing panic and the urgency needed, Raven broke into a gallop. Zayn held on for dear life and prayed, the words repeating in his head like a litany to an unknown deity.

Please let him be safe! Please let me be in time!

It felt like no time at all, yet an eternity of anxious fear, until they dashed through the open castle gates and into the courtyard. Zayn knew instinctively when they’d crossed over into the castle’s boundaries. The spring that had been returning to the castle before he’d left was gone, replaced by iron skies heavy with burgeoning grey clouds unleashing a relentless storm that soaked him to the bones. Despair filled the air, feelings of dread a vise around his heart. He choked back a sob, sliding from Raven’s back the minute the horse stopped in front of the wide oak doors of the castle.

Zayn shoved the doors open, calling out for Liam when he burst into the main hall.

“Liam! I’m here!” He tore down the corridors toward his studio, throwing the doors wide, only to find it empty and dark, the drapes drawn tight, and the embers of the fire long gone cold.

“Damn it, Liam! Where are you?” Zayn cried out.

The castle was fucking huge, with dozens of rooms. He knew he didn’t have time to search every one of them. Then he remembered. The mirror. If he could see where Liam was, he could reach him faster. Shrugging off his backpack, Zayn pulled out the mirror, its importance suddenly a heavy weight in his hand.

“Show me Liam.”

Once again the mirror rippled, slowly transitioning from Zayn’s sodden, tear-smirched face to a room so dark he couldn’t make out the details. Zayn searched every corner, hoping for the smallest sliver of light so he could pinpoint Liam’s location in the castle. A figure lay on the floor in front of a cold fireplace hearth, a blanket pulled haphazardly over it’s bulk. Zayn knew, without a doubt, Liam lay under the blanket. Fresh tears pricked at his eyes, his frustration and fear mounting.

“Where are you? Where are you?” Zayn muttered, tilting the mirror, in hopes it would work like his video games and shift perspective.

Was that? He stared harder at the faintest hint of shimmer on the extreme edge of the frame. “Yes! No! Fuck!” Zayn dropped the mirror on the table and sped from the room. Behind him, the mirror image shifted, fully centering on the clue he’d gleaned. The glass dome remained in the middle of the table. The remnants of the rose still hovered underneath, it’s last petal withered and almost devoid of magic.

The sound of a heavy door slamming against a wall could be heard, and the image blurred, faltering, then pulled back into focus. The petal seemed to shiver, the last vestige of magic fading away, and it slowly began to fall.

Zayn paused for a moment inside the door he’d burst through, letting his eyes acclimate to the darkness, then darted to Liam’s side, falling to his knees next to him.

“Liam! I’m here! I’m home.” He shook Liam’s shoulder, willing him to open his eyes. “Babe? Come on, Liam. Open your eyes. Look at me.” From the corner of his eye, he saw the rose petal falling, and redoubled his efforts to bring Liam around. “Liam! Damn it! I didn’t come back to say I love you to a fucking corpse! Look at me!”

Liam stirred and Zayn gasped, a sob tearing from his chest.

“That’s it, love. C’mon. Open your eyes. I’m right here. You can’t leave me now, not when I still need you in my life.”

“You- you’re here. You came back.” Liam’s voice was weak, thready. “I sent you away. How are you here? Why?”

“I couldn’t stay away. Not when I left my heart here. With you.”

Liam shuddered, rolling away from Zayn and curling in on himself with a muffled roar. The rose glowed, pinpoints of light sparkling and pulsating from it to fill the dome. The glass shattered, the lights exploding into the room to engulf Liam in their blinding brightness. An unseen force shoved Zayn away. He pressed against it, his eyes narrowed against the searing glow, desperate to return to Liam’s side. The lights swelled, Liam completely obscured by their vibrance. Another roar filled the room, followed by a second, louder explosion. The fireplace bust into life, the drapes torn from their mountings. Sunlight filled the room, the sound of birdsong cutting through the eerie silence. Zayn blinked rapidly, then fell forward, the barrier suddenly gone. He crawled blindly across the floor, his hands finding the blanket Liam had discarded. Warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. Zayn looked up, his gaze meeting a pair of familiar brown eyes. The man stared back at him, his expression soft and adoring.

“You love me,” he said, his voice full of wonder.

“It’s you.” Zayn whispered. “The portrait from the hallway. It was you.”

“I’m not that man. Not anymore.” Liam stood, bringing Zayn to his feet with him. “Thanks to you.” He drew Zayn closer, raising his hand to cradle Zayn’s cheek. “You gave me back my life.”

Liam hesitated, his eyes searching Zayn’s. Zayn saved him the trouble of asking. He lifted his hand and drew Liam’s head down. Their lips met, the kiss filled with longing and tenderness. And love. So much love. Liam pressed in and Zayn melted into him, his fingers tangling in the soft caramel curls of Liam’s hair. They kissed until breathless, both reluctantly pulling away.

Zayn rested his forehead against Liam’s, his eyes drifting closed under the heated weight of Liam's gaze. His words came on a ragged breath, “I had to. You had my heart.” They were quickly swept up by Liam’s quiet gasp. He pulled Zayn in for another kiss, one that promised forever.

The stem of the rose had disappeared, only a single petal remaining alone on the table. Liam carefully scooped it into his hand, adding it to the ornate box with the others that he’d accumulated. “So I never forget,” he’d said, snapping the lid shut.

“I know I never will,” Zayn replied. “They gave me you.”

Zayn and Liam walked out of Liam’s study hand in hand, slowly making their way down the corridor. The castle had been renewed, its once former glory restored with the breaking of the enchantment. Sunlight streamed through windows now devoid of the heavy drapes that had once hidden its occupants from the bleakness of their existence. Zayn paused to look out the nearest window to find the gardens in full bloom, a riotous display of color and beauty enticing him to wander the well-tended paths. The once dormant fountains had sprung back to life, the tree boughs heavy with fruit, verdant fields stretching as far as the eye could see.

A hailing cry came from the main hall, followed by the thunder of multiple sets of feet up the stairs. Louis, Harry, and Niall tripped over the top step, coming up short when they saw the couple walking toward them.

“Huzzah! You made it!” Harry shouted, hurrying over to them with the others in tow. “I told Niall you would!”

“I’ve missed your face,” Louis said, his voice gruff with emotion as he wrapped Liam in a hug.

“Thank you for your faithfulness, old friend,” Liam replied, his eyelashes thick with tears.

Zayn looked on, his heart full. He still didn’t understand what he’d witnessed but he found it didn’t matter. Sometimes fate doesn’t explain its motives when it sets you on the path to your dreams, and all you can do is act on faith that the end justifies the means. Liam pulled him close, pressing a kiss to Zayn’s temple.

“You’ll stay.”

It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be. There was nowhere else Zayn wanted to be other than right by Liam’s side.

“Of course.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

They descended the stairs, walking out the open front doors and into their future.

Together.

~FIN~

Oops! I almost forgot the most important part of every fairytale -

And They Lived Happily Ever After