Work Text:
1. The Quest
"Those aren't directions."
The king gave a moderately discreet eyeroll at his finely carved wooden ceiling. He then refocused on his youngest son with the tiniest of sighs, the one he used when he wanted to cue people to commiserate with him. It was less effective when there was no one to side-eye. "I didn't write them, Adam. It can't be easy-- otherwise just anyone could request a boon." He paused for a moment, as if he were actually contemplating making the journey himself. "East of the sun and west of the moon, the brave will be granted a single boon."
Adam felt like perhaps he wasn't getting through to his father. "But that's not-"
"Aaaaaaand you know, I'm far too old and frail to be undertaking such a journey." Adam's eyes widened at that, taking in his father's robust and well-fed frame. King Franklyn hurried on. "Plus, I have a kingdom to run." The king gestured at the nearly empty room around him with his cane, perhaps in hopes of impressing on the young man just how busy he was. Adam glanced obligingly around. The great hall was cluttered in one corner with storage for the monthly church rummage sale, and a few church ladies were sorting and labeling while they quietly debated kingdom business, now that the king was distracted. At the other end, on the dais, sat an old throne carved from wood which had once been honey blonde but was now stained dark on the seat and arms by generations of backsides and forearms. King Franklyn found it uncomfortable and distastefully unfashionable to boot, and so opted for a well-appointed leather settee, which he had positioned in front of the dais within reach of a small table with snacks on it. Adam felt himself losing the argument just by standing in the same room with his father. He sighed tellingly, at this point just wanting to get it over with.
"I would be honored to travel and request a boon in your honor, father."
The king clapped his hands together smartly, rings clinking together where they connected. "Good! Good." He waved a tightly wound scroll at Adam. "I think this should just about cover it." The scroll was looped with ribbon and sealed with a smudge of wax that had the Froideveaux royal sigil, a small round-bellied pony draped in paisley ribbon. As crests went it was not the most intimidating, but Adam had always liked it, naming the pony 'Budgie' from a young age. He took the scroll in his hand and bowed shortly to his father. The sooner he began, the better. "Oh!" The king held out a hand to Adam, indicating he wasn't quite done. "You'll be taking Dancer?" Adam nodded in the affirmative, hoping that his father wouldn't claim he needed the saddle horse for the carriage. Dancer hated the carriage-- he was the worst harness horse as well as the best saddle horse in the world. The king paused for a moment, and Adam gritted his teeth in preparation for another argument, but the king just waved him on. "Fine, fine. We can make do."
Adam turned on his heel and left before his father could change his mind.
Out in the stables, Adam allowed himself a sigh of relief. Although he felt the errand his father was sending him on was patently ridiculous, it would afford him some well-desired solitude. Adam didn't like traveling, for the most part-- it was tedious and played havoc with his schedule, and he rarely slept well away from home. But this-- days in the open air with just his horse for company, away from his father's court and well, his father? It sounded like heaven. He patted Dancer on his nose, and the horse looked at him with soulful, intelligent eyes. "We’re traveling, beauty. Although I don't know where, or how to get there, or even how to begin."
Dancer nudged him. He was a handsome stallion, his coat a beautiful shade of red shot through with gold. Adam didn't know how old he was, but he was fit and loved to run. His father had acquired him as a gift from a neighboring kingdom, and Dancer had proven skittish and difficult to calm. Adam was the only rider he tolerated, which made Adam feel quite proud. He patted the stallion once more before going into the tack room for his saddle.
At the turnoff to the main road, Adam sat and puzzled out the instructions. "East of the sun and west of the moon." Since the moon wasn't out, he peered at the sun, still low in the sky in the early morning, and frowned. "How can you go east of an object that provides the definition of the direction?" Dancer shimmied under him, shaking his large head, and Adam got the sense that the horse was amused. He squeezed his knees together gently, affectionately. "Which way would you go, beauty?"
The red-gold head swung one way, and then the other. After a moment, the stallion looked straight ahead, and began walking of his own accord, right across the road and into the farmer's field opposite. Adam, surprised, didn't try to stop him. "You don't know either, eh boy?" Dancer shuddered under him and whickered, and kept on straight through the ditch and into the rows of beans. He stepped carefully over each row, and Adam settled the reigns down over the powerful neck and let go. At least one of them looked like he knew what he was doing.
2. The Island
They traveled together for days, aimless and peaceful, walking in-between the sun and the moon when possible, which was about ten minutes a day, if that. When Adam was tired, they found a place to camp and settled down for the night. During the day Adam found farmers and small settlements where he could buy food for himself and oats and grain for Dancer. The weather was fine and the road was gentle, and Adam found himself talking to Dancer about all of the things that no one else at court seemed to be interested in. He spoke long about the patterns of the stars, and the toys he was working on for the children that played in and around the castle and the valley that surrounded it. Every so often he would fall silent, and Dancer would draw to a stop and peer over his glossy shoulder with questioning eyes, and Adam would laugh in delight and begin a new story. At night, Dancer would kneel and then awkwardly flump down near the fire, and Adam would curl up against his warm, broad back, and Dancer never once rolled over and smushed him. To Adam, it was the best week he had ever spent, and he wasn't sure he wanted it to end.
After they had passed beyond the land that Adam knew, they witnessed a strange and beautiful sight. A long road between rows of alder trees ended in a flat glossy lake, in the middle of which rose an island with a garden full of bright blossoms, but with no way to cross over. At night, after spending the day picking their way carefully around the shoreline, they both heard sweet music playing in the trees over the water. It was lovely and melancholy, and Dancer gave a great sigh as he listened. Neither the horse nor the man slept that night, and in the morning they had to drag themselves out of a daze to sleepily continue onward. For once Adam was quiet, and every so often one of them would recall the music and sigh softly into the flower-scented breeze that wafted over them. Eventually, they had to turn away from the lake, and for a moment they paused in tandem, Dancer glancing back at his rider, before both of them turned away to continue on.
But not four miles from where they turned away from the lake, they came again upon the row of alders. Adam dismounted and took Dancer's head as he stared at the golden-leafed trees. "It seems we have found something magical, boy," he murmured softly, and Dancer snorted in agreement. Adam contemplated the path before them. In a hushed voice, as if someone might be listening, he asked, "Should we go on, or turn away?"
Dancer cocked his heavy head, and shook out his mane, and then walked a single step forward. Adam took this as a sign, and swung back on to Dancer's back. They walked into the trees again. It was not long before they saw the lake, with the island like a jewel in the middle of the calm water. Unlike before, a wide white bridge spanned from the shore to the edge of the island, gleaming in the midday sun.
3. The Bridge
Neither of them made a sound for a long moment. Adam squeezed his knees lightly against Dancer's flanks, and Dancer shivered and trotted sideways rather than ahead. For the first time, the stallion seemed wary. Adam patted him. "I don't like it either, beauty. But I think we should go." He smiled, although his horse couldn’t see him. "At least we will be together." Dancer turned then, and gave him a long, soulful look. Adam ran a hand down the powerful golden neck, and reached up to scratch behind his horse's ears.
Adam nudged Dancer under him with trepidation. The stallion slowly placed a tentative hoof on the first wooden plank of the bridge, sounding a solid 'clop' under his iron shoe. For a long moment, both of them were still, until Adam felt his lungs burning and exhaled a shuddery breath. He nudged the horse forward, and Dancer moved with obvious reluctance, shoes ringing loudly across the water, until they crested the gentle arch of the bridge. In a heartbeat, Adam felt his seat collapsing, and he fell heavily to the wooden surface, bruising his knees painfully. Under him, groaning and swearing, sprawled a man, his long red-gold hair falling in tangled waves over his shoulders and back. "Fucking Adam, get the fuck off of me," he grunted.
Adam, stunned, was frozen in place. He took in the spread of golden skin beneath him, and reached out to tentatively stroke the man's skin. "Dancer?"
The man shivered under him, and then bucked upwards with the effort of throwing Adam off. Adam was tossed to the side, and sat staring dazedly back at the man. He was handsome, with high cheekbones and a delicate mouth, now turned down in a frown. Adam looked into his eyes and recognised him at once. The man shook his head and dragged a hand through his long hair. "Not Dancer. I fucking hate that name. It's Nigel, darling." He turned onto his back, unabashedly naked, and gave a great sigh into the air. "Gods, I missed being able to lie on my back."
Adam tried to speak, but nothing came out but a scratchy squeak. Dancer--Nigel grinned at him, and Adam shook his head in amazement. "You've been enchanted all this time?"
"Mmm. Long fucking story. Transfigured by a treacherous ex-girlfriend and sent as a gift to your idiot of a father. Sorry." Nigel raised his eyebrows in half-apology, but Adam shook his head. He didn't actually disagree. Nigel smiled at him, causing Adam's heart to flutter strangely, and then frowned. "She thought it was fucking hilarious." He sighed again and scratched long fingers through thick silvery chest hair and down, giving his pubic hair a luxurious scratch as well. Adam flushed to his toes in embarrassment, unable to not stare, to Nigel's obvious enjoyment. "Haven't been able to do that in a year either. Gods, I've missed having fingers. Fucking crazy, what you miss when the evil queen decides to make an example of you."
Adam shook his head. "I can't believe I've been riding you for a year." And then, realizing what he said, he flushed even darker-- passing red on the way to magenta. He could have fried an egg on his forehead. Nigel laughed delightedly and then reached over to wrap his fingers around Adam's ankle, stroking over the bone.
"Not entirely the way I wanted you to, but honestly that part has been a pleasure." He looked away, turning a dreamy grin to the sky. "Especially when you rode without a saddle."
Adam groaned and turned onto his back as well, hiding his face under crossed arms. Nigel exploded into laughter and rolled over so that he was half-covering the young prince. Adam relaxed under him immediately, and Nigel took the opportunity to stroke a hand through his curly chestnut hair, and then drop a gentle kiss to his ear. "You were always the best part of my enchantment," he murmured, and Adam smiled shyly, peeking out from under his wrists. They lay together for a long time like that, the sun warming them as it crested its apex. Hesitantly, Adam reached out a hand to stroke the hair back from Nigel's eyes, and Nigel closed his eyes at the touch, and sighed.
A heavy footstep interrupted them, and they looked up, startled, at a tall robed figure, its face in shadow. It gazed down at them both, and Nigel wrapped his arms protectively around Adam, prepared to fight naked and unarmed if he had to. The figure shook its head, and then a soft feminine voice issued forth. "Jesus, are you two going to lay here all day? This bridge isn't really here, you know, and I've half a mind to drop you right into the drink."
4. The Boon
The figure's name was Bedelia the Fair, and she insisted that Nigel wrap himself in something before allowing them to walk across the bridge to the island. Tugging Adam's traveling cloak around his body, he made a sort of draping garment that left one shoulder and most of his broad hairy torso uncovered, much to Adam's pleasure. Adam walked so close to him their shoulders bumped together, and Nigel reached down to take Adam's hand. "I've wanted to kiss you for a long time, Adam. A long fucking time."
Adam squeezed his hand. "What does fucking mean?" Nigel burst out with an amused snort, and Adam grinned back at him uncertainly. Up ahead, Bedelia began to walk faster, leaving them rapidly behind. "You use it to modify both nouns and verbs. I've never heard a word used that way."
Nigel flashed broad white teeth at him, laughing with his entire body. "It's also a verb. I hope I can teach you all about it."
Up ahead, Bedelia muttered something that sounded like, "Holy fucking Christ," but Adam couldn't be certain. There seemed to be quite a lot of distance between them now. He increased his pace to catch up, while smiling back at Nigel.
"I hope so too. I like learning new words." Nigel laughed again and then leaned over to kiss his cheek. Adam blushed furiously, pleased beyond imagining. "I like you too, Nigel. I'm glad you aren't a horse anymore." He squeezed closer to the other man. "Although I'm not sure how we are going to get home now."
"Mmmm. What is home?" Nigel murmured. But before Adam could respond, they reached the other side, and Bedelia the Fair turned on them briskly.
"Spit it out now. I've got better things to do than watch you drool on each other."
Nigel eyed her mildly. "Jealous?" Bedelia scowled at him. "After all, it was your bridge that undid the enchantment," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes, much more dramatically than Adam's father ever had, and held out her hand, snapping her fingers impatiently.
Adam turned stiffly and reached into his pack for his father's scroll. She took it, peering curiously at the fat little pony on pressed into the wax, and then broke the seal and unrolled it. She read quickly, her eyes flashing down the tightly scribed lines, her eyes widening as she read. Before even reaching the bottom, she rolled her eyes a second time and the scroll burst into bright pink flames. "Nope."
Adam's mouth dropped open. "But…"
"If your father wants a boon, he can drag his lazy ass here himself." She stretched her neck from one side to the other, making an audible cracking sound. "I know him. He's perfectly capable of making the trip-- he just didn't want to. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't work that way." She paused, frowned, and sighed. "You want one, then?"
"One what?" He was honestly lost. Beside him, Nigel grasped his hand and squeezed comfortingly.
"I think she means the boon, Adam." Adam blinked at him, and then took a moment to linger on the face of his erstwhile horse and new friend, and perhaps, hopefully something more. Nigel reached up to stroke his chin. Bedelia made a loud gagging noise and plucked a whisky tumbler, more than half full, from the air.
"Of course I mean the boon. And please, hurry it up. You both are making me ill." She slammed back the entire drink in one go. It refilled immediately.
Adam, however, addressed Nigel with some confusion. "But I have everything I need."
"You don't have a horse," Nigel pointed out. Adam grinned at him, and turned back to the wizard, who was now trimming her nails.
"I would like to request the use of two horses to get us home," he said. "Horses that aren't actually people. And we'll send them back when we’re done," he added.
"And I'd like some boots that fit," added Nigel.
She stared at them both. "Are you serious?" She pointed to Nigel. "You've been a horse for a year. Don't you want revenge?" She turned her gaze on Adam. "And don't you want out from under the thumb of your father?"
Nigel shrugged. "If I want revenge, I'll make it myself."
Adam squeezed Nigel's hand. "And I want to make my own life. Will you stay with me, Nigel?" he added shyly. Nigel beamed at him, and leaned down to nose his cheek softly, like he would do when he was still Dancer.
"I wouldn't ever leave you, my darling," he whispered in Adam's ear, and then gently turned Adam's jaw and nosed right into a chaste kiss. Adam pressed back, mouth open and eager, soft breath hitching into Nigel's mouth.
"OH MY GOD, SERIOUSLY--!"