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“I’m sorry miss, but we really can’t help you. All our greatest knights are off in war, and they won’t be back for months. We’re short on staff here as it is, and if we were to lend you the 20 knights you want, the castle would be in serious danger.” Ray was trying to be fair, but the woman was adamant. Michael and he had been trying to talk to her for hours, but she wouldn’t listen to reason.
“Look, we can give you maybe five knights, but that’s it.” Michael was doing his best not to get mad. He couldn’t give that image. The kingdom wouldn’t stand for a king with a bad temper. Ray’s hand reaches over and squeezes Michael’s, and Michael sighs. He couldn’t be happier with Ray at his side. The woman stares at them hard, then her hair stands on end. Her appearance totally changes and they recognize that legendary raven hair, the way it spreads out like wings. They never thought they’d see it up close, and the hand on Michael’s tightens. Just like that, the witch grins and plucks a feather from her hair and throws it at Michael. It looks like a dagger and before anyone else can react Ray has leapt up and taken the feather straight into his shoulder. He groans and looks drowsy, then Michael grabs a hold on his husband, trying to keep him stable.
“What did you do!? What did you do to him!?” Michael sounds pissed, and for good reason. Ray seems to be slipping unconscious and Michael can’t do anything to stop it. The witch laughs and points a beautiful finger at Ray.
“Since you wouldn’t give me what I need, I’ve taken what you love. He’ll sleep now, forever, unless he receives a kiss that means everything. The kiss of true love.”
Michael snorts, then watches Ray drift off, slumping forward. Michael stands and lifts his fellow King easily. “You couldn’t have picked a worse spell. I’m his husband, we love each other more than anything. And I’ll prove it.” Michael presses his lips to Ray’s, sitting there for a minute, just the feeling of Ray’s lips against his own managing to calm him.
After long seconds, Michael pulls away and looks at Ray with furrowed eyebrows. He looks up at the witch again.
“Is this a sick joke? Did you cast the wrong spell?”
The witch laughs again, the sound grating. “Oh, part of spellcasting is truth. You can’t lie. Why don’t you try again? It’s so funny.” She’s grinning, and Michael hates it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try again.
Kiss after kiss and Ray doesn’t awaken. Michael is growing frantic and he’s slowly sinking to the floor, trying to kiss Ray awake, cure him of the sleeping poison. He really believed he could do it. He needed to. He needed Ray, his King, his rose, his love.
Hours later the witch had left, but Michael was still crumpled on the floor of the throne room, tears streaming down his face. He checked Ray’s pulse, and it was strong. The witch had told him Ray would have no needs while he slept, no need for food or water, locked in this state of being until his true love kissed him. Ray slept soundly, completely dead to the world, and Michael’s grip was tight. Maybe he wasn’t Ray’s true love, but he’d find them. Find them for Ray’s sake. Ray would hate to miss these years, years that could have been spent happily at Michael’s side. His tears dried against his royal cape, and Michael stood, jaw steel. He would find the solution.
He would find who Ray should love more than himself.