Work Text:
Barry was hunting when Iris found him, ready to speed forward and wring the wild turkey’s neck. When it disappeared into the foliage, he scowled and called on the lightning in his bones, ready to attack—
He yelped and dropped onto his ass when Iris appeared, basket of food in hand, her red cloak draped over her shoulders. She rolled her eyes and set the basket down, holding out a strong hand to help him up.
“Iris! I thought you weren’t coming here for another month,” he said. She sighed, shaking her head, and he counted up the days he’d spent away from her. “It’s… been a month, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah, Bear, it’s been a month. What’s gotten into you?” Iris’s smile filled her entire face, lighting it up.
In his defense, he’d been busy with, well, falling in love at first sight like in one of the old stories and then ruthlessly suppressing said love because the man he was falling for was engaged to be married to someone else. Arranged or not, that was a stumbling block in any relationship. Something of that must have shown on his face, because Iris’s smile turned distinctly wolfish. Considering she could actually turn into a wolf at will now, that was a little terrifying.
It took her about a minute to blackmail him for the details, and he found himself telling the whole story – the trolls, the rings, Cold and his eyes and hands that had invaded Barry’s dreams the past two nights, because he was apparently a teenager again. By the end of it, her eyes were filled with sympathy and something else more calculating.
“Don’t,” he said when she opened her mouth. “He’s marrying someone else. I helped him get back his wedding rings for that person.”
“It’s an arranged marriage, Barry. Does she even love him?”
He had to shake his head. Knowing that this mystery woman (not actually a mystery, considering her powers, come to think of it) loved someone else made it all the harder not to find that royal carriage again, or the kingdom to which it belonged. Still, he would refrain. He was a grown man. He could control himself, in love with a horribly inappropriate man or not.
Maybe it wasn’t even love. Maybe he just appreciated someone not turning him in to the Reverse. He’d thought he was in love with Iris for the same reason, after all (though he hadn’t thought the same about her father, who had actively saved him from the king).
“It’s just an infatuation, Iris. Don’t do anything, please.”
Iris rolled her eyes, but she sighed and nodded when he wouldn’t let his gaze waver.
“I won’t do anything, I promise.”
Then they turned to simpler topics, like her brother Wally’s abilities and their training when the only speedster they knew couldn’t step foot in the land because the Reverse would kill him. He was apparently coming along even better than Barry had when he manifested, which he figured was because he manifested after his mother was murdered. He’d been a little distracted, after all.
Before Iris left, she hugged him and he held her a little too long. He hadn’t had a good hug in a long time, and she was warm.
When she came back in the dark of night, he almost panicked again. Had they been betrayed to the Reverse? Was Joe or Wally dead?
“Oh gods, it’s nothing bad,” she said. “Just… don’t blame me, okay. I didn’t do anything. You know how much of a romantic Eddie is.”
That was when he registered the figure behind her, Eddie, Iris’s fiancé. He smiled and hugged the man, then turned when Iris’s words registered in his mind. There was a distinctly guilty set to Iris’s expression and shoulders, and she opened her mouth twice before managing a word.
“Eddie is working at the winter palace in the Snows’ kingdom,” she said. “Security for the upcoming wedding. You know how hectic those can be.”
“You didn’t.” Barry turned to Eddie, who had that same hangdog expression that Iris did.
“It’s just one meeting with the prince. If you think you have a chance with him, you should at least try. I mean, if I’d never tried with Iris because I was scared, I wouldn’t be about to be married to the best woman in the kingdoms.”
Eddie’s face was beatific when he looked at Iris, and that more than anything cracked Barry’s resolve. He sighed, shaking his head and smiling, and the tension in the room disappeared.
“What’s the plan?” he asked, hope welling up in his chest.
It was only when he was in the secluded corridor where the prince was waiting that he felt at all nervous. The pilfered uniform was a size too big, and his palms were sweating inside the gloves. Cold – he couldn’t think of him as Lucas, not after everything – was wearing breeches and a white shirt, probably having gotten ready for bed already.
He coughed, and Cold turned to him. The smile that he offered was small, not quite transforming like Iris’s was, but it lit his eyes up. Barry’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he found the answering smile was all-too goofy, giddy with relief. The swell of feeling in his chest told him that no, he’d been wrong about this being simple infatuation. He’d been lost as soon as Cold had mocked him with the wanted poster
They stood too close to each other (they had done that in the woods, too). There was a moment of indecision, breath shivering across the miniscule space, and then they were kissing.
For all that Cold had ice powers, his mouth was hot, demanding, hands like brands on Barry’s face. Barry responded in turn, pressing his advantage when Cold made a sound. His hands found Cold’s hips, tongue darting out. Cold’s mouth opened against his, and the relief made something heady fill Barry up from crown to toe.
His back hit the wall, head cradled by Cold’s hands. He traced up from his hips, hands flat on Cold’s sides, up his arms. Cold migrated too, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other travelling under his thigh. If they didn’t break apart soon, Barry could imagine what would happen, how Cold would lift him, press him further into the wall, take him apart. He wanted that so much he could barely breathe, whining when Cold detached himself and started finding the sensitive places on Barry’s neck.
Something fell, crashing on the stone, and they stood still. They were both trembling, breath too loud in the quiet space. Barry closed his eyes, pressing his head further against the wall from where his neck had been bared. He could feel the moment passing away from them.
Cold stepped away, expression guarded for all that the flush and too-red lips spoke words more than he probably wanted them to. He took Barry’s wrist, leading him through empty corridors and into a set of rooms that Barry could recognize from court as guest chambers. He stepped away and started to pace, all the while completely silent.
This, Barry was uncomfortably sure, had been a mistake, even if his first instinct had been right and he did, against all odds, love Cold.
“Gods, kid, this is – I don’t even know.” Cold broke the silence, but he wasn’t looking at Barry. The darkness on his face wasn’t something Barry had thought him capable of, but, he was reminded, they didn’t really know each other, for all that their connection had been instantaneous.
“Cold, I… why are you laughing?”
It wasn’t even a laugh. It was too quiet to be, and too dark. Cold shook his head, hands clenching into fists and releasing, tapping against his thigh. They were always moving, those hands. Cold turned away from him, so Barry didn’t see the decision he made.
“I told you I have a name, kid. It’s not what you think it is, though.” He turned back to Barry, who was frowning. “My mother is a woman who lives in a city in the north of Lewis Snart’s kingdom. She was Lucas’s mother too. The queen was barren, but Lewis wasn’t. He took Lucas, didn’t know my real father – not by blood, but in the ways that matter – had me that day. Lucas died fighting a behemoth two months ago, and the Dark One told dear old dad that he had another bastard out there.”
Barry shook his head, but Cold interrupted him before he could speak.
“He’ll kill her if I don’t do what he wants. Marry who he wants. So this is something that I can’t… indulge in.”
He didn’t say he was sorry, and Barry understood. If he’d been able to make a deal with Eobard before he killed his mother, whatever it had been, he would have followed it.
Even if it broke his heart.
“I’ll go,” he said to the empty air. “I’ll – I’ll leave, I’ll never trouble you again, Cold – whatever your name actually is.”
“Len,” he said. “Leonard, actually, but I – just, Len. Barry…”
He shook his head, speeding out of the room so that Len couldn’t see his face. It was useless, since he’d started crying when Len had finished with his story, but any dignity he could gain would have to be enough.
He leaned against the stone walls outside the castle and let his chest heave with his sobs, hands shaking so fast they were blurring. He remembered how the gold had glinted on his left hand, how Len’s eyes had gone dark looking at him then. He wished he could rewind time without consequences and tell himself not to target that carriage, that it wasn’t worth it. But time travel was dangerous even to speedsters, especially into your own past.
“Who are you?” someone asked. Barry’s head jerked up, and he saw the woman he’d robbed. Her hair was darker now, not quite brown he thought, but not the vibrant red he remembered from his mother. This was Princess Caitlin Snow, Len’s betrothed, standing in front of him. “Wait… you were the thief, weren’t you? What are you doing here?”
Her voice morphed while she was talking, ice echoing along with it. Barry gaped like a fish for a second, then sucked in a breath and rose to his full height instead of slumping against the wall.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t know you weren’t headed for King Eobard, since that road is pretty much his main highway. Your fiancé got his stolen property back, though.”
Caitlin rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Yes, and none of that explains why you’re here,” she said. “Especially not looking debauched.” Slowly comprehension dawned on her face, and she sighed. “Well. This is awkward, isn’t it? You love him.”
“Well, you don’t,” he pointed out, and he wished he knew a spell that would let the earth swallow him up when she raised her eyebrows at him. She shook her head, huffing a breath. “Am I wrong? Is he wrong?”
“Leonard Snart is rarely wrong,” she said. When Barry gaped, she continued, “And while the rest of the court might be made out of idiots, I actually use my brain.”
It was Barry’s turn to shake his head.
“But you know you don’t have to marry him, knowing what you know. Why haven’t you gone to the king and told him?”
Caitlin snorted, then coughed, and a man appeared out of the shadows by her shoulder. He was as tall as Barry, and bigger. There was a glint in his eyes as well as his hands that Barry interpreted as being fire magic. Just like the tragic Sir Ronald, who was dead now. They said those who had cold magic should find someone who was their opposite to wed, to keep them sane. This man, Barry knew, was the man Caitlin Snow had chosen to love when true love’s kiss couldn’t bring back a man disappeared into the ether.
“I may wish to do so, but Lucas was just as illegitimate as his brother, and his brother was the man who slayed the dragon tormenting our southern borders.”
“Besides, there’s the old woman to consider,” the man said. His voice was low and gravelly, strange even though he was a big man. “Can’t do anything unless she’s safe.”
Barry had known it wasn’t as simple as his hopes made it out to be, of course, but hearing about Len’s mother from them – knowing that they knew the stakes – made it even more real. He scowled out at the night, lightning quivering in his fingertips.
“Does everyone at court forget to use their brains, or just princes?” Caitlin asked, and Barry looked at her. Then he really looked at her. The clothes, dark and ever-practical, were not unlike her knight’s. She was outside the castle, too, when she should be preparing for her wedding. They were dressed for riding, both of them, and the pack on the knight’s shoulders was one that meant business.
“You’re going to rescue Len’s mother,” he said, and Caitlin grinned at him.
“It’s good to know you’re not an idiot. Leonard wouldn’t be able to stand you if you were, and truth be told, I wouldn’t like you so much either. Come on. Let’s go.”
Barry didn’t ask why she was inviting him along. There were undoubtedly two reasons, probably more. He would probably have trusted someone with information like this before everything, but not now, and Caitlin Snow had been through something as horrible as losing his family had ever been. Everyone knew about the king’s deal with dark forces, how that had taken more lives than it could have ever saved. He had to step down for his daughter, or risk the kingdom imploding even further. The deal with Snart’s kingdom had been mutually beneficial in that regard.
She was giving up an entire kingdom for her love.
It wasn’t that simple, obviously. She might love her knight – Mick, he said Barry should call him – but she also loved her country and the people in it. If someone was being threatened because of her, she wanted to stop them. If it was because of what she represented, well, that was even worse.
“He can’t use my power against innocent people,” she said, expression dark while their horses made their way along the road.
It was midday before they reached the border between the Snows’ kingdom and the Snarts’, but luckily, Caitlin and Mick knew which city Len’s mother called her home. It was another hour’s riding, and his back hurt even with his healing by the end of it, but when they reached the city they were able to lead the horses instead, walking the rest of the way to her home. It was above a tavern that she apparently owned, and Barry looked for her distractedly while Caitlin and Mick tied the horses up outside.
She wasn’t what Barry had expected, short and dark and wrinkled, but she had that same strange smile as her son, and her hands were always moving, just like his. It was the matter of moments to get a private meeting with her, the reins handed over to a young woman. Actually explaining why they were here, however…
“I told him I wouldn’t run,” Maya said, sighing. She looked between them all, canny dark eyes landing on Barry and staying there. “But this wouldn’t be running away from something, would it?”
Barry felt his ears go hot, and Maya coughed into her fist. She hid a smile, too, but he hadn’t told her he was a speedster, so he let her think the ruse had fooled him. He smiled back at her, though, helpless not to.
“No, it wouldn’t,” he managed, voice hoarse. “I-I have a cottage where you would be safe. There are wards all over it from three different types of mages. It’s very peaceful.” It had been in Iris’s family for generations, surviving border shifts and legal disputes and a lot of storms. Barry would have to find another place to stay, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know how to hollow out a tree with magic and ward that, if it came down to it.
Maya didn’t have a horse, so Barry offered the one he’d taken. She looked like a noble atop it, back straight and eyes clear, and she smirked at him when he frowned at that.
“King Lewis expected the best from his mistresses,” she said tossing her gray-black hair behind her head. Barry could feel his face coloring again, and Maya kept grinning at him like she knew exactly what she was doing. He had a feeling this was where Len had gotten his attitude from. She did grow more somber quickly, though, sighing and shaking her head.
“What’s wrong, my lady?” he asked.
“Nothing. You’re just… very young, all of you. Even my son. You’re going to catch hell for this, you know, all of you. This isn’t just about true love and happily ever after.” Barry ducked his head, and she laughed. “I don’t disapprove of you, Barry. If you love my son and he loves you, then I’m happy. My family’s magic did what it was meant to do. It doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy.”
Barry remembered something his father had said once, when Barry was complaining about something that didn’t even matter. He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing, but he remembered what his father said.
“Nothing worth doing ever is,” he said. It was the one thing in life he had always been certain about.
It was dark by the time they reached Barry’s cabin, and Maya installed herself in it so naturally Barry wondered if she had been raised in the country herself.
Caitlin and Mick took the three horses, and Barry watched them prepare to leave, smiling at each other while they packed. They were like all the old stories, a fire mage and an ice mage who balanced each other out and kept each other sane, away from the extremes of their elements. There were burn scars on Mick’s arms that Barry avoided looking at, and he wondered if Caitlin helped him as much as he surely helped her.
“Where will you go now?” he asked. Caitlin tilted her head.
“I have a friend, Martin, who can officiate weddings. We need a witness, though.”
She was usually self-confident, and Barry knew where the hesitance came from in this case. He smiled and shook his head.
“You don’t want my kind of trouble, Caitlin. But… if you see Len, tell him I’ll be waiting for him. He just has to find me.”
“We’ll send him your way,” Mick said, mounting his horse. He nodded at Barry. “Good luck with that.”
“You too.”
He watched them disappear in the distance, and he only barely regretting not going with them.
(A week later the news came that Eobard had captured Len, that he was holding him, waiting for Barry to give himself up for his true love. Caitlin and Mick tried to stop him from going, but there was nothing to be done.
The apple was the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted.)
Lisa opened the book up to a random page, and her eyebrows shot up her head. She got that the kid was pretty open about everything, even raised in a small town, but she’d never seen a fairytale where two guys were kissing. It was unmistakably two men, too. Even though it was chaste enough on the page, she couldn’t believe it had gotten put into print. Her eyes went to the page next to it, and she read the last few paragraphs.
Cold was too late to save his prince. He had been installed in a glass coffin by the woodsman’s daughter, preserved by magic so that all would see what the Reverse had done, both to the kingdom and to her friend. His youth and beauty were haunting sights in the wilderness, and Cold felt his heart stop. The girl offered him comfort, but he shrugged off her advances, laying a hand on the sun-warm glass.
“Open it.” At the look of dismay on her face, he shook his head. “I need to say goodbye. Please.”
Her father opened it for him, laying his hand on Cold’s shoulder in silent comfort. Cold accepted this for a moment, looking down on his lost love, before he leaned away from the touch. He pressed his lips to the Flash’s, and a bolt of pure magic shot out around them. It sped through the whole kingdom; through the fairy realm, where heads poked out of lilies and smiles spread across faces; through the Dark One’s palace, where he sat at his spinning wheel and ached for his own loss; through a castle in the snow, where a young woman and her husband were reading together, drawing them closer; and through the two of them, like lightning and the first frost of the year, shocking them apart.
The Flash’s eyes opened, meeting Cold’s. He smiled, and Cold gaped, and said the first thing that came to mind.
“Have you always had a talent for finding trouble, kid?”
The Flash drew up on his elbows, looking Cold in the face, and he smirked.
“Seems to me I keep finding you, whatever that might mean,” he said.
The spell was broken, though their battle was not yet finished. Cold let himself smile, and hug the man he loved, and accept the thanks of the people who were his family.
Lisa smiled, skimming a finger over the page where the artist had depicted Cold waking Flash up with true love’s kiss. She could see how Michael liked the story, as nontraditional as it was. It was comforting, thinking that you could save someone with such a simple gesture. It wasn’t realistic, of course, but there was no harm in it.
She would have to make sure he knew she didn’t disapprove of the stories, she decided, even if she didn’t like that he believed they were real. Barry Allen was not the Flash, after all.