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A flash of verdant lightning lanced across the the space between dreams in an arc that belied the owner’s power that thrummed through magic-laced veins. Malleus’ feet touched down on the floor of what seemed to be a ballroom, far warmer-toned than any soirée that was held in the Valley. Gentle orchestrals wafting through the air with a jaunty tune as he made his way through the hall between guests.
He turned over his hand to glance at his palm, feeling the breadth of his magic traverse in a thread-like manifestation that floated on the breeze like the loose thread of a spider’s web. Claw-like gloves grasped the strand gingerly, a reverence in the gesture. It was then he noticed the attire he was adorned in, a warm tone that gave him pause. It reminded him of diurnal fae formal attire, every bit as flowing as Briar Valley’s, but more warm in color. His sleeves were a verdant green fabric — replacing the usual ebony — with a smooth and cool feel. The kind of feel that left the person wearing it feeling as though they were wrapped in a gentle breeze. The pattern of the fabric was barely there, a soft swirling of vines, rather than undulating and twisting brambles in symmetrical patterns. All of it gave him pause as he admired the subtle warm silver cuffs at his wrists that kept the flowing alweves out of the way.
All of these subtle hints did little to reveal whose dream he could be in at present. He pondered as he weaved through the small ballroom, wooden yet ornate in its structure. A glance up saw the large wooden columns twisting into a support for the chandelier in the center of the room. One that cradled fae light, no less, the kind of light only magic could bring to fruition.
Just as Malleus was to prepare himself to attempt to channel another dream, a familiar voice reached his ears.
“Malleus?”
He turned slowly, offering an amicable smile in the direction of her voice before he properly honed in on her appearance.
The first thing he noticed was the dress she wore. Sheer translucent fabric with embroidered flowers layered itself over a pastel bodice and skirts. Her small movements caused the fabric to shift under the light between green and a pale gold.
“I didn’t think you’d show up.” Her voice shook him back to his senses, glancing down to see her expression looked rather melancholy. The sight poised his jaw to clench firmly beneath his skin, offering a polite bow as he searched her eyes further.
“I wouldn’t miss an invitation. Much less one from my dear friend.” His lips curved into a comfortable smile as he watched her visibly relax, shoulders sinking in relief.
Yet she still seemed to be worried about something. Having gotten as drunk on his own magic as he had been, her potential thoughts…perturbed him. Perhaps it was residual unease from their discussion of homesickness, or maybe his own irritation from Sebek’s dream earlier that had him wanting to ease even the most trivial wound.
“What would make you happiest right now?”
“I don’t…”
“I am one of the most powerful mages on this plane, I assure you I can handle whatever it is you choose to challenge me with.”
A thoughtful look crossed her face, then a slight flush dusted her cheeks. He had to press a hand to his mouth to keep from smiling wider at the display before she answered him with a question.
“Would you dance with me?”
It took a few moments for the prince to register her words, but once he did, a laugh left him, “All of the things my dear friend could ask of me and she asks for a dance? Very well.” The bow he gave to her this time was slightly deeper as he offered her a hand. It startled him for a moment how light her hand was in his, eyes watched her intently as she moved closer with the swell of the music.
The next surprise came as he rested a hand at her back, just above her waist. He had always been aware that she hadn’t stood much taller than his shoulders, but even so, he felt his chest almost twist with a foreign feeling as he let her set the pace of the dance between them. Eventually her head came to rest on his shoulder, albeit cautiously. The opportunity gave Malleus time to take her in as they waltzed along within her delicate dream. It was a blessing and a curse to have her feel so at ease. Yet…he felt himself glancing about so he could properly piece together her dream. The setting was…familiar yet foreign to the dragon fae.
“Something wrong, Firefly?”
His breath threatened to stutter at the little name she had bestowed upon him, swallowing the startled lump of fire in the back of his throat as he gave a shake of his head, “I’m quite alright, child of man, simply musing.”
“About what?”
Malleus shook his head, “Merely getting lost in my thoughts.” He murmured as they turned, her fingertips reaching to lace through his as she twirled once before returning to that spot close at-hand. The small embroidery of flowers on her dress seeming to float about like petals in spring. He found himself staring at her for an entirely different reason. The prince had come to grips with the reality that he was quite fond of her company, though it was the kind of company he struggled to put to words. There was no real precedent for that lump in his throat. The only thing that he could truly identify was a much stronger desire to keep this particular dream intact. Both to keep her happy, and to indulge in it himself. It was a desire he erred on the cusp of, his fingers gingerly squeezing through hers as though he held a fragile flower.
And he swore his heartbeat thundered in his chest when her hand squeezed back.
Malleus could feel the mood around the two of them shifting slightly, His head drew downward slightly to peer into her face, his other hand tucking one of the stray curls that framed her cheek behind a pointed ear.
Wait.
His eyes sharpened for a moment to check if he was mistaken, his lips pursing. He knew his friend, knew that he never remembered her having pointed ears. Surely not. He remembered that her only introduction to fae culture was the gala of pixies, and what little he had to share of his time in Briar Valley. Physical manifestations of wishes within dreams weren’t uncommon, it seemed. If she had ears like this in her dream, it stood to reason there was an explanation. Many possibilities ran through his head, though the one he found himself returning to each time was thus; she at the very least wished to be fae. Like him. And if she wished to be like him, then surely he wouldn’t have to be alone.
That feeling in his chest reared its head again, a sharp twist and tug that coaxed a huff out of his throat, smoke bubbling at his lips that he had to snuff out through his nose.
“You’re acting a lot more eccentric than usual, Malleus. Are you sure you’re alright? I don’t want you to feel as though you have to keep anything to yourself.” She murmured, a gentle brush of her fingertips over his knuckles as her hand laced with his had his cheeks burning with a warmth he somehow knew wasn’t simple dragonfire.
A new melody began to weave its way about the hall as he turned her gently, both of them taking a step back before pulling one another back in with a tender embrace.
“Nothing is wrong, dear friend,” as he tasted the words on his tongue, they only felt half correct for what he felt budding in the moment, “My thoughts were simply of how intriguing the venue looks. What is this place called again?”
“Oh it’s called Rosethorne, I thought I told—“ she seemed to stop in her tracks, like she had bitten her tongue. Her body seized up, “I…never traveled here.” She uttered quietly at first, her eyes eventually slid up to look at him. A mix of surprise, worry, and — most concerningly — fear met his gaze.
“Firefly…where are the others?” Malleus steeled his nerves despite the wavering of the ‘world’ around them. For once, he didn’t just want a dream to continue out of a ruler’s benevolence, but of this warm feeling that had become increasingly present in her company over these past several months.
“There are people all around us, my dear friend.”
“Malleus.”
Her voice took on a stern, but shaky edge, and he swore a piece of his heart shifted. Like stonework under years of weathering.
And finally, he cracked.
“They are happily living their own lives out in their own dream. I’m troubled that you seem to have such an…aversion to your own.” He frowned as she pulled her hand from his and retreated a few steps.
“Malleus…” her voice started to waver, “…you can’t keep doing this. Think about your magic, what that could do to your body, your mind…!” She suddenly seized both his hands, “You’re leeching your life for dreams that aren’t even reality!”
“What does it matter whether it’s reality or a dream, so long as you find fulfillment in it?” His rebuttal was simple yet perplexing, leaving her quiet.
Several long heartbeats passed as the dream continued to shiver as though it had been set upon by a small earthquake.
“I-I don’t know how to answer that, but I know that more than anything, I don’t want to lose you to this!” She finally seemed to find her voice, raising it slightly as she gripped his hands tighter. He noticed small tears pricking at her vision. Just as the fae prince reached a hand to brush them away, a thud echoed across the wooden floor, accompanied by a few grunts.
The startled prince glanced toward the sound, finding his — admittedly troublesome as of late — guards and the two little friends they had made.
“Hmph. First you still refuse to give in to the ease of my gifts to you, then you disrupt the dreams of others…unforgivable.” The prince growled, his lip curling as Silver stood and readied himself in front of Sebek and the other boy. Though it didn’t take long for Sebek to sputter his protest and join Silver’s side.
“Dreams…of…others? O-Ow!” Prim winced, bracing her palms against her head in efforts to lessen the pressure. Pain like a lance of lightning struck her straight through the base of her skull.
Malleus tensed as his friend doubled over in pain. A frown drew his lips downward. His expression softened and a pallid hand offered itself to her, like an invitation to dance.
“Take my hand and we can grant you a dream without interruption, my friend.” He murmured, smiling the slightest bit as a hand dropped from her temple to hesitantly reach toward him.
“Prim, NO!” The pesky underclassman that had dropped in with Silver and Sebek dropped his dire beast companion and sent out a lance of magic toward her and Malleus. The arcane energy a swift breeze that nearly hit them both, and drew a faint growl from Malleus’ throat as the quartet advanced toward them from across the hall.
“Prim, you’ve got somewhere to go home to, I know you do! You—ack!” An arc of lightning struck just short of the young man, his fluffy black hair askew from the shock of the blow, only cushioned by Sebek propping him up as Grim crouched behind them both, ears tucked back.
Malleus could feel his patience thinning as he focused his attention on the two in front of him, his ‘disguise’ molting into a vivid mesh of poisonous purples, acid greens and inky black. His hands clenched to fists as he prepared to face off against one of his retainers and a young fae.
“M-My liege, please…! We can’t bear to see you succumb to blot!” Sebek stammered, looking as though he would melt in tears, the hands that gripped his weapon trembling at the grip. Malleus’ lips curled into a condescending smirk as he rolled his eyes.
“I’ve never felt better! Free to command my magic any way I see fit, unburdened by the world around me? Why it’s simply delightful.” He began to approach the younger students and direbeast, the lash of his speared tail behind him making a faint airy noise as it whipped about almost excitedly. Malleus leveled his fingertips in Sebek’s direction, eyes roaming in a lazy contempt over the fae, half fae, direbeast and…where was—
“Sebek, over here!” Silver rushed across the room with Primrose in tow, their hands joined as they bolted toward the small group.
Sebek, in all his fear and conflicting emotion, still managed to impress malleus the faintest bit by turning and hauling the Fairweather youth up by his wrist and away from Malleus just as a large bolt bathed in acid green crashed down where they’d just been.
The prince of Briar Valley prided himself on his calm demeanor when dealing with his subjects, as well as other humans. But something in him stirred as he locked eyes with Silver, who had wrapped his arms protectively around his friends like a shield.
Malleus could be a leader, regaled yet feared, content with his presence being above others, but barred from any sort of warmth that normalcy could give him.
But Silver…
Silver could be a friend, a shoulder to lean on, a defender, unburdened by any family line or senate or rules.
Someone completely and utterly free to do as he wished, even beyond his dreams.
And as Silver murmured the prose of his own magic, Malleus realized how deeply he had always envied him for it all.