Written for the QAF Gift Exchange 2016 for guavejuice
Gift Request: Video canon-compliant, Feed Me Diamonds by MNDR. I'd LOVE it if my gift vid with have that version of Diamond because it's such a stunning song and goes together with B/J's story imo :)
Other Specifications: Any AU that has something like B and J as Historic figures and so on.
The story is based on your other request for an AU with a historical setting. This is definitely AU, and definitely a mix of history and fiction.
Beta: Xrifree
A/N: Oookay. So, first my apologies; I know you wanted a video, but unfortunately, I have ZERO video skills (except for viewing). I had to write you a story instead. I watched the video, listened to the song, and read about the singer's inspiration for writing it, especially her frame of mind at the time of writing it, and tried to capture that mood in the story - also, you will find some of the lyrics scattered through the story. I seriously doubt that this is anything close to what you had in mind, but I hope that you enjoy it nevertheless. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas, and all the very, very best for 2017!
The QAF Gift Exchange on LJ is a wonderful community, and there are many, many excellent stories, graphics, and videos on it. Please do check it out here: :
Like all my stories, this one too would not have been possible without my incredible beta, who, not only is a wonderful friend who puts up with my incessant whining 24/7, but is also an incredible beta who will make sense out of nothing, and help formulate a story from wisps of ideas.
Disclaimer:
Based on the show 'Queer as Folk' by Showtime. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is made from this work.
This work contains lyrics from the song 'Feed Me Diamonds' by MNDR. I take no credit for that artist's work. The title 'Two Loves' comes from Lord Alfred Douglas's poem of the same name. Lastly, this work is quasi-historical, and as such contains fictionalized accounts of real people who existed in the past. All effort has been made to represent them accurately. All mistakes and inaccuracies are my own.
Two Loves
By Lord Alfred Douglas
I dreamed I stood upon a little hill,
And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed
Like a waste garden, flowering at its will
With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed
Black and unruffled; there were white lilies
A few, and crocuses, and violets
Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries
Scarce seen for the rank grass, and through green nets
Blue eyes of shy peryenche winked in the sun.
And there were curious flowers, before unknown,
Flowers that were stained with moonlight, or with shades
Of Nature's willful moods; and here a one
That had drunk in the transitory tone
Of one brief moment in a sunset; blades
Of grass that in an hundred springs had been
Slowly but exquisitely nurtured by the stars,
And watered with the scented dew long cupped
In lilies, that for rays of sun had seen
Only God's glory, for never a sunrise mars
The luminous air of Heaven. Beyond, abrupt,
A grey stone wall. o'ergrown with velvet moss
Uprose; and gazing I stood long, all mazed
To see a place so strange, so sweet, so fair.
And as I stood and marvelled, lo! across
The garden came a youth; one hand he raised
To shield him from the sun, his wind-tossed hair
Was twined with flowers, and in his hand he bore
A purple bunch of bursting grapes, his eyes
Were clear as crystal, naked all was he,
White as the snow on pathless mountains frore,
Red were his lips as red wine-spilith that dyes
A marble floor, his brow chalcedony.
And he came near me, with his lips uncurled
And kind, and caught my hand and kissed my mouth,
And gave me grapes to eat, and said, 'Sweet friend,
Come I will show thee shadows of the world
And images of life. See from the South
Comes the pale pageant that hath never an end.'
And lo! within the garden of my dream
I saw two walking on a shining plain
Of golden light. The one did joyous seem
And fair and blooming, and a sweet refrain
Came from his lips; he sang of pretty maids
And joyous love of comely girl and boy,
His eyes were bright, and 'mid the dancing blades
Of golden grass his feet did trip for joy;
And in his hand he held an ivory lute
With strings of gold that were as maidens' hair,
And sang with voice as tuneful as a flute,
And round his neck three chains of roses were.
But he that was his comrade walked aside;
He was full sad and sweet, and his large eyes
Were strange with wondrous brightness, staring wide
With gazing; and he sighed with many sighs
That moved me, and his cheeks were wan and white
Like pallid lilies, and his lips were red
Like poppies, and his hands he clenched tight,
And yet again unclenched, and his head
Was wreathed with moon-flowers pale as lips of death.
A purple robe he wore, o'erwrought in gold
With the device of a great snake, whose breath
Was fiery flame: which when I did behold
I fell a-weeping, and I cried, 'Sweet youth,
Tell me why, sad and sighing, thou dost rove
These pleasent realms? I pray thee speak me sooth
What is thy name?' He said, 'My name is Love.'
Then straight the first did turn himself to me
And cried, 'He lieth, for his name is Shame,
But I am Love, and I was wont to be
Alone in this fair garden, till he came
Unasked by night; I am true Love, I fill
The hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame.'
Then sighing, said the other, 'Have thy will,
I am the love that dare not speak its name.'
February, 1896
Reading Goal, 30 miles west of London
There were things a man could abide, things a man could not, and things he was forced to abide.
Brian was well aware of this unwritten rule that the world operated by. He knew it when he was a young boy, suffering through both his mother's religious fervour and his father's constant inebriation. He knew it when he had to bite his tongue, apprenticing under an incompetent stable master. He knew it when he had managed to finagle his way into becoming a manservant, finally moving away from the stable into the big house.
Brian was now afraid. Slowly and surely, as each day passed, he became more and more afraid, fearing for himself.
He was afraid, knowing that this was a situation that he must abide by, and knowing full that there was no way that he could remain in the situation he was in, and not go insane.
"Your frustration is reaching its zenith; I can tell by the increase of your constant pacing. Why not make a friend while you are doomed to be here?"
Brian was well aware that the rules of the prison strictly forbade anyone from speaking. They were all in separate cells, forced to live out each day in solitary confinement, enduring hard labour during the day, and yet unable to even look at another prisoner, let alone to speak. The rule was for them to wear long cloaks, complete with a cowl, which severely limited their vision. Brian knew that prisoners were subjected to all manner of punishment for breaking the rules; as far as he knew, the only exception was in the infirmary, where one could look at and speak to fellow prisoners, sans cowl or cloak.
Still, Brian was curious about the man in the adjoining cell. Brian believed that the guard on duty in their block to be asleep. Denied the ability to communicate for months, Brian decided to risk breaking the rules. "Who are you? My pacing should be no concern of yours."
"C33. Occupant of the third cell on the third floor of C ward."
"I am well aware of the cell you occupy, being in your neighbouring cell. I was referring to your name."
"Brian Kinney, I know who you are and why you are here. It will do you good to make a friend."
"And yet, I still do not know your identity."
"I am Irish, just like you. And my infamy is known far and wide. But you were already in jail, by the time my trials were underway."
Brian realised that C33's voice was somewhat familiar. "We have met," he stated plainly.
"But of course we have."
Brian heard a plank creek, and knew that C33 was moving towards the bars. He also walked to the bars of his cell.
"Oscar Wilde, sodomist, at your service".
Brian gasped; he had heard that the famed writer had been jailed for charges identical to his own, but he had been unaware that the man was his fellow prisoner.
"You were the young Lord Taylor's valet. I remember you; this tall, confident, well-groomed man."
Brian scoffed. "Indeed."
"But of course, I remember you for reasons other than your good looks."
"Of course; you surely followed my trial. I understand that not many men are arrested for gross indecency," Brian said bitterly.
"My friend, it could be worse. You could have been arrested for buggery. You would never leave these walls, had that been the case. But I knew of you for other reasons, considerably prior to your trial."
Brian raised an eyebrow. Gentlemen of society did not make it a habit to be familiar with other men's servants.
"You were the reason Lord Taylor refused my advances."
Brian couldn't stop the shock he felt from registering on his face. "Justin…you knew…"
Oscar shrugged. "Those of us who were interested knew. He was certainly wiser than some of us were, remaining discreet," he said wistfully. "It was hard to resist a young man so accomplished, charming, and just beautiful…he was always gracious, and he always said no. When I saw how he looked at the man who should have been a mere valet, I realised why. After all, one can only be so discreet when it comes to human emotions."
"I haven't seen him for almost a year," Brian said, his heart heavy.
"Tell me your story, Brian Kinney, and I will tell you how the young Lord Taylor is faring. I have pertinent news regarding his well-being."