Arthur of the Forest
At the edge of the world, not the physical world, but the one that sits at the very fringes of the imagination, one that shows itself to a select few, one that teases the human brain with fantastic images and colors, is a forest. It's a special forest, the gateway to this other world, the Faerie world, that most can only dream of. There's only one way in: by invitation.
They say the call to enter the forest is a strange one. It's something that whispers directions in your ear to call you to the edge. There are lights that nudge you to the brink, tempting followers with beautiful lies and shimmers. But those whispers can never push you to take that last step. Only those that crave the other world can see it, join it, make the final step. It's a leap of faith: crossing over into the other world is to step into a void that one cannot see. For Alfred F. Jones, a bored man with a dead end job, no friends and no future, the crossing was easy.
As he stepped over that invisible bridge to the forest, the lights whispered that they would never let him leave. He belonged to the other world now, and with each step his shackles grew stronger. But that was fine. Alfred knew the weight of bondage. The raw, thin scars hidden on his body were testaments to his imprisonment in his birth world. It wasn't physical imprisonment, though real razors had inflicted the wounds. The cage he had lived in was one of the mind, a cage of angry emotions. Alfred had never had a good childhood, and adulthood was no better. He was done with the physical world he was born to. And so he ignored the lights and their warnings. There was no turning back, Alfred knew, as he wanted it, and he was sure of it as his feet touched the mossy grass at the fringes of the tree line.
All around him the lights shimmered, beckoning him to follow them now that they owned him. Like a master calling his slave, the lights tugged at the invisible chains around Alfred's wrists. They weren't the same as the one's he'd worn since he'd entered middle school, but they were shackles nonetheless. But Alfred couldn't bring himself to care. They weren't his anger, his misery, his loneliness, and they weren't his own pathetic weakness. That's all that mattered.
"Follow us…"
"Don't be afraid…"
"We'll take you to him…"
"He won't hurt you…"
"You're safe…"
Lies. All of it, and somewhere, deep down in Alfred's twisted mind, he knew it. There was no such thing as safety. It was just an illusion for stupid prey. Safety was the fragile barrier between reality and fantasy that people thought they could hide behind. Not just people, but all things. Some divinity had instilled the smoke of safety in the minds of all creatures, in this world and all others, as a means to keep the natural order, Alfred decided. If prey knew it was never safe it would always run, then predators would never eat and the cycle would end. Life had to go on. Safety was not real. The smoke vanished the moment the fangs sunk into flesh and the claws raked the skin from the bones.
Alfred was prey. And Alfred was never safe, not here, not in his birth world, nowhere. For a brief moment he'd once considered this new world might be different, but when the chains of this forest had wrapped around his damaged body, he'd known how wrong he'd been. A foolish notion to believe anything would be different, but the soul had a persistent way of making the body hope. And Alfred did hope every now and again, no matter how pointless he knew it to be.
He walked on, guided by the lights, their false promises and the shackles on his wrists and very soul. The chains were tight, warning him to never look back, to give up all hope, to know his place in this world as he had in his first. Alfred was a slave to his old misery. He always had been and always would no matter the voids of time and space his soul chose to travel. In this world or the next, or the one after that, this fate was inescapable, just as much as safety was a lie.
The forest was dark, but Alfred imagined it always was. The canopy above was so thick; the blue-eyed man doubted the light of the sun ever touched the ground in this place. The things that grew here were different from the ones back home. They didn't need the light or warmth to flourish; they hid in the dark, their glowing organs giving off a colorful illumination that left swathes of light littering the path.
The edge of the trail was illuminated by all kinds of these strange flowers, each bristling with black thorns, and there were tiny creatures with serrated fangs watching from the shadows. Their beady eyes, black and gold, watched Alfred with hungry curiosity, smelling the agony that flowed from Alfred's tired soul. It was blood in the water amongst an ocean of frenzied sharks. They scampered up to Alfred, grinning at him, enjoying the way he shied from them. They dashed between and under his feet, their long tails and bright features a blur of color as Alfred's eyes moistened. He didn't understand their wicked nature, or why they flocked to him, but they were terrifying, despite their size. They were monsters, beasts of another world that didn't welcome him. They gnawed at his legs and feet, rending them into bloody scraps. The tears blurred his vision as he was led along, a feast for all the tiny bottom feeders of the forest. Each footstep left a mark of blood across the grass that the slower creatures eagerly lapped at. The lights did nothing to shoo them away, but kept murmuring promises of safety as they forced Alfred to trudge along.
It took days, hours, millennia, minutes, years, or maybe seconds to reach the heart of the forest. Alfred didn't know how to judge time in this place. It all seemed like a dreadful eternity: walking along with a tattered soul so broken that he could himself to the pain in his feet or the weight of his imprisoning chains if he left his mind drift off. But as the lights finally halted him, and forest creatures scattered, Alfred knew they'd reached the center. There was something about the place that seemed to thrum with energy. It vibrated in the air, seeping into Alfred's bones, and cascading across his soul. It stung at first, but the flow of energy seemed to blow gently on the shreds of his soul that remained, as if it was trying to soothe his pain, like it was welcoming him.
He looked up, noticing that the lights suddenly dispersed. And for once, Alfred could see the sky when he gazed up. The canopy had been too thick to find the endless black overhead, but now it was there: expansive, no, endless, and dusted with millions of shining stars. They twinkled aloft, a glimmering display of absolute beauty that left Alfred gaping.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" A smooth voice from behind Alfred queried.
Alfred could barely tear his gaze away from the stars to look behind him, turning to the side. He gasped.
Broken blues met shimmering emeralds as Alfred stared into the eyes of a beautiful man. He hadn't been there a moment ago, but somehow he'd managed to get behind Alfred. The man was stunning, all sculpted alabaster skin, and a fine figure. He was absolutely perfect, well, except for the two smooth, back-curving horns that sprouted from the top of his head, rimmed by a crown of golden hair. Sleek muscle glided beneath flawless skin as the man raised his hand to gently touch Alfred's face.
"Much like you, little one," the man whispered. His breath ghosted over Alfred's face he stood so close, and it reminded the blue-eyed blond of the cool breezes that blew over mountain streams: soothing, pure, filled with something almost unearthly. But Alfred had to remind himself that he was no longer in the human world and such unearthliness would have been perfectly normal in this place.
He was entranced by the man's face. He was so strange, beautiful, and Alfred wondered if he might have recognized that face. A feeling of familiarity sparked in his brain for a moment, then quickly died as logic took over again. There was no way Alfred could have ever seen this man before. Thin red lips parted as the man spoke again, his voice like music and summer breezes.
"Oh songbird, how I've missed you. Here," The man offered his hand, and when Alfred looked down at his hand his eyes widened in shock. The man was a stunning model of masculine beauty from the waist up, but below, his legs were that of a beast. They were crooked like goat's might have been if it were natural to walk on two legs. The fur was golden, the same color as his hair, short and neatly brushed. A pair of polished, black, cloven hooves was pressed to the dewy moss. The tuft of long, thin tail hovered just above the ground, flicking occasionally.
"Love, what's wrong? You look pale," the man- no, the creature asked. He stepped forward, touching the back of his hand to Alfred's damp forehead. "Songbird, you've got a terrible fever. Come, let's not dally out here." He snatched up Alfred's wrists, but the blue-eyed blond jerked back, fearful of the clawed hands that grabbed for him. He tried to step back but the agony of his torn flesh seared through his nerves. With a cry of pain, he fell to his knees, alleviating the affliction and pressure on his bloody feet.
"Songbird!" The creature sounded alarmed and terribly worried as he knelt. Alfred had brought his hands up to hide his face, feeling hot tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. He didn't even know why he was crying; maybe because he was scared and this beast should have been terrifying to human eyes. Maybe because he was hurting, the torn flesh pulsing with agony. Maybe because he didn't understand this strange world and it frustrated him. Without understanding the feeling of shame, he could bring himself to look up, not wanting the beast to see him so weak. He didn't want to seem like helpless prey yet again. But that was unavoidable. Alfred had always been prey, hunted and abused all his life by sadistic predators. It was such a sad, inescapable fate that even in the world he'd fled to escape predation, he was still too weak to be the hunter instead of the hunted.
"Beautiful, songbird, love…" The creature cooed gently as Alfred wallowed. His clawed hands were tender as they moved Alfred's away from his face. The warm emeralds shimmered with such a deep fondness that Alfred was taken aback. He sniffled, staring into those enchanting eyes once again. They drew him in, wrapped him in tendrils of warmth, refusing to give him up to the cruel, cold world around them.
"I've missed that beautiful face, love, so please, don't sully it with tears." The creature caressed his cheek, his talon-tipped thumb brushing away the moistness on his cheeks. "You have no reason to cry. You're with me now, songbird."
Alfred knew he should have been horrified, disgusted even, by the fact that this creature was comforting him. It was just another one of those evil beasts that had bitten his feet, only much larger. This thing wasn't human, no matter how gentle and kind it was being. Probably just a façade, Alfred guessed, a plot to make him let his guard down. Just what the creature would do he didn't know. But did it really matter? He was wounded and confused, a total stranger to this world, and yet the beast was offering him comfort. It could have killed him easily if it had wanted to; Alfred guessed those claws weren't for show. Strangely, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything rational. Not fear, or disgust, not even suspicion. He wanted to trust the beast. It was the only thing in this forest that had shown him even a drop of sympathy.
"Have you lost your voice, my love?" The creature asked, tilting his head.
"N-no," Alfred whispered, voice as broken as the bloody tears on his feet. "But, c-can I ask you s-something?"
"Of course, songbird."
"W-w-who are you?"
The creature was silent for a long time, his bright eyes dimming for a moment. And Alfred was sure he'd upset the beast. He couldn't help but nervously nibble at his lower lip, worrying about the satyr. When it finally spoke, Alfred's eyes were wide with anxiety.
"You don't know me?"
Alfred could only shake his head to mean no. Was he supposed to know this creature? He looked hurt when Alfred shook his head, almost as if he were incredibly disappointed.
"You're sure?"
"Y-yes. I've never seen you before. I-I-I don't think."
The creature nodded his head slowly, as if absorbing the information like it was commonplace disappointment. Clearly this wasn't a shock for the beast.
"Well, then, I am Arthur, the king of the Fae and guardian of this forest."
"K-king?"
"Yes, stranger. And you're shaking," Arthur rose up on his hooves, sighing. "Come. Let's get you bandaged up before you go home."
Alfred dared not look at the creature, shame coloring his cheeks with a coating of red, a crimson as dark as the blood staining his feet. His legs felt too weak to stand, his feet too sore to support his own weight and the disgrace only added to the heaviness that pinned him there.
Arthur huffed a sigh, snapping his fingers with impatience.
The lights reappeared, fluttering around Arthur gracefully.
"He is not who I thought. He certainly looks like my Songbird, but Alfred would never forget me, even if he did cross over. I think you've brought me the wrong one yet again," Arthur said sternly to the lights. Their dancing faltered, turning into frantic scattering all around the satyr as they whispered in their strange, ethereal voice. Alfred felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach at the switch in Arthur's tone. All that kindness had never been meant for him. It was all just a mistake. Alfred simply bowed his head, shoulders slumping. Arthur must have noticed because he moved forward, standing just before the broken man.
Alfred looked up when the polished hooves came into view, but quickly averted his eyes again until a clawed hand gently took hold of his chin, tilting his head up. He was forced to meet Arthur's gaze as the beast looked down his nose to him.
"But I am not a cruel king. You may not be my songbird, as my servants insist, but I will not leave yet another one here to die. You sought my kingdom on your own, and I will treat you as one of my subjects." It was like he was scrutinizing Alfred's features, searching the human's eyes for something. Alfred was sure he saw the flicker of something behind the aloof mask Arthur hid behind, but it was gone in an instant. His gaze flicked back to the lights, eyes narrowed
"Bring him home with you, and make sure his wounds are healed. You will bring him to my throne room once he is well enough to walk again."
The lights bobbed up and down as if they were nodding and moved to attend to Alfred. They whirled around him, each a dazzling pool of warmth as they ghosted over his skin. Their light grew brighter and brighter as they moved, engulfing Alfred in a soothing blanket of heat that worked into his muscles. But the lights shone too brightly, forcing Alfred to squeeze his eyes shut.
"I will see you again, stranger…" Arthur voice was the last thing he heard before suddenly the world went silent and Alfred lost consciousness.
When Alfred awoke, he found himself sprawled out on the cold floor of a steel cage. Blinking away sleep, he lifted his head, bleary blue eyes blindly searching around for anything that might inform him of his location. He found nothing but thin bars on all sides though. They rose up, arching high above his head into a dome.
A birdcage… Alfred realized with a sigh. The familiar burden of imprisonment returned, despite the fact that the invisible shackles he had felt earlier seemed to have vanished. Even if there weren't chains on his wrists, he was still trapped inside a cage like an animal. It wasn't as though the feeling was unfamiliar, but the notion didn't ease the pain Alfred felt closing in around him. It pressed against his soul from all sides, dashing whatever sliver of hope he had had for his life in this strange new world. He had hoped that when the satyr had said he would treat him as one of his faerie subjects he had would grant him some semblance of freedom. Apparently, fate had a cruel way to tricking Alfred again and again.
He rested his head back against the steel floor, curling in on his side. There was nothing left other then to resign to his fate and maybe sleep off a little of the hazy sadness that enclosed his heart like a fog. But just as his eyelids slipped shut, a voice whispered:
"The King wishes to see you now…"
Alfred's eyes shot open, and he braced on his hand to lift himself up from the floor. A single ball of light danced at the very edge of the cage, its pale light slipping through the bars to illuminate Alfred's corporeal prison.
"Come…" The cage's door creaked open, swinging back on its hinges without any visible guidance. The light moved back, as if waiting for Alfred, who blinked in surprise. The light floated patiently as Alfred picked himself off the floor. He went to dust the grit off of his legs when he noticed he was almost entirely naked. Only a silken, light lavender cloth was clasped around his waist, draping down to mid thigh at one end but exposing his entire other leg where it was pinned on the opposite hip. A blush crept high on his cheeks as he ducked his head and exited the cage. The blue-eyed man could only hope the King was the only person he'd be meeting. This cloth left little to the imagination.
The light didn't seem to notice his obvious embarrassment, simply shutting the cage door with an invisible force and beginning to float away. Alfred hurried after, as the light moved rather quickly, and Alfred was grateful that something had healed his feet. A brief glance down revealed that there weren't any scars or bandages at all, but they felt fine as he jogged along.
Leading him down a long, undecorated corridor of the same polished steel of the birdcage, the light never spoke again. It navigated a few turns, never ceasing its swift pace and by the time it finally halted, Alfred could feel a thin film of sweat dampening his skin.
Then, the light suddenly blinked out of existence, leaving Alfred looking around in surprise. Where had it gone? Surely it hadn't just vanished without giving him any other directions! There was nothing here! Well, almost nothing. On two sides were the blank walls; behind him was the way back to the cage, but before him stood an unimpressive door. It was pale in color, with an old, brass knob on a slim handle.
He could have gone back to the cage, maybe slept the rest of his life away and been left to his own mind. The idea sounded perfectly logical. He wanted nothing to do with the rest of this strange Faerie world. There was nothing for him here, just like his old life, but something about the door piqued his curiosity. What was behind it? Was Arthur waiting for him on the other side? What would he say? Why had he summoned him in the first place? And why was Alfred so eager to know? Why did he want to see the satyr again? It was like some unknown force drew him to the creature, and it was a force he didn't understand at all.
Timidly, Alfred placed his hand on the old knob and twisted. It swung open on its creaking hinges, letting in a bright light that made Alfred wince for a moment before his eyes quickly adjusted. He stepped through the threshold, his cobalt eyes wide to absorb the magnificent and terrifying sight before him.
Spread out before him was a massive room lined with tall pillars flanking either side. Between each pillar was a network of stained glass that rose up to a massive domed ceiling. The glass was colored in all shades of greens, blues and yellows, shimmering from the light the poured from the beautiful chandelier hanging from the center. The tiles of the floor were a pale yellow, as shiny as polished gold and flawless. A velvety blue carpet ran the length of the room, ending at the clawed feet of a dazzling throne. The great chair seemed to be made of a various mix of precious gems, marble and the bones of tiny creatures. It was a morbidly beautiful display with a high back and posts adorned by flickering candles at their peaks. And on that throne sat Arthur.
The handsome satyr was leaning back, legs crossed and his cheek resting on his knuckles with an amused expression on his visage. And all around him, filling in every available space around the blue carpet, were monsters and creatures of all shapes and sizes. They all looked to be anything but mundane. Most were like Arthur- a cross between a human and a beast, but there were some who remembered only terrible creatures born in the darkest nightmares. Thousands of fangs were flashed in wicked smiles as Alfred turned back around to face them. Gossamer wings fluttered, eyes glowed and claws clicked against the tiles, as the beasts all seemed to be fighting to get a good look at him.
Alfred took another step forward, entering a whole other world once more.
The moment he was beyond the door, it slammed shut with a loud bang, startling Alfred. He whirled around, biting his lips as he gave the door an experimental tug: it didn't budge.
"Face your King, stranger!"
Alfred glanced over his shoulder at the rudely barked order, gasping in freight. Had he angered them? Would they kill him for accidentally turning his back on royalty? Alfred just didn't know. This world was too strange to understand.
"He's got no fur or feathers!"
"He must be cold…"
"What's so special about him?"
"He looks like a naked ape…"
"Why'd the King call us here for something so unimpressive?"
"Look at those eyes! They're so blue!"
"What is he?"
"He reminds me of the King's old pet…."
The noise rose to vociferous levels as the creatures all talked over each other, quipping about him and his appearance. Alfred clapped his hands over his ears as the room filled with the raucous clamor of the thousands of attendees. They were nearly deafening with their screeching voices, chattering noises and unbearably cacophonous shrieks.
"Silence!"
And the room went dead silent, allowing Alfred to lower his hands. He looked to Arthur, who still sat with the same smug expression.
"And now that I have your attention, my faithful subjects, I present to you…" The satyr paused, clearly amused, as his subjects all seemed to lean forward, waiting with baited breath. With a little flourish of his wrists, jingling from his decorated gold bangles, Arthur spoke again:
"A human!"
The entire room erupted into wild shrieking, startling Alfred. He stumbled back, bumping into the wall as his wide, fearful eyes darted about the room in panic. Finally, his cobalt gaze alighted on Arthur, who was watching him intently. He searched the satyr's face for some sort of sign. He didn't exactly know what, but any sort of guidance or explanation would have been welcomed in this chaos. All he received was a simple smile, devoid of any emotion whatsoever.
"Subjects!" Arthur bellowed, calling their rapt attention back to him. "This human I have brought you," The satyr uncrossed his legs. "He is very special."
Alfred narrowed his eyes. Special? What in the world was so special about him? Alfred was scared, and confused and shaking horribly, not special.
"And I will show you this incredible aspect of him that has captured even my attention."
Arthur rose from his throne, a graceful sweep of muscle that moved with royal elegance as he made his way down the blue carpet towards Alfred.
The Faerie crowd watched, their heads turning to following their King's fluid steps. Each clap of his hooves was like a blow to Alfred's physical being. He felt weak and trapped, pinned by those burning emerald so fixated on him. It made his stomach knot up, clenching in pain. The emotion in those eyes was something indescribable: longing, hope, expectance, all concealed beneath cold reserve, a mask of regality.
The satyr halted just before Alfred, and now, with his back turned to the crowd, he was smiling gently. Leaning forward, he whispered in Alfred's ear.
"You may not remember me, songbird, but I remember you. If you want to remember, if you want to survive, if you want to stand by my side again, then you'll trust me. Can you do that?"
Alfred was frozen in place, trembling as Arthur breathed the words against his ear. He stared down at the space between them, terrified of what the satyr would do.
"Please?"
Alfred's eyes snapped up, focusing on Arthur's bright eyes. And there he could see everything. The mask was gone. Arthur was asking him to trust: to trust in something he couldn't remember, but just like in the forest, Alfred wanted to trust him. There was an exhilarating prospect hidden in Arthur's words as well. To stand by a king, no longer bound by the chains of a boring, pointless life, to be free and on top of the food chain. Alfred would no longer be prey, but a predator without fear. It was too tempting to resist, and Alfred nodded, steeling his nerves with resolve. This was his chance: the chance of a lifetime.
The Faerie King grinned triumphantly before stepping back, turning to the crowd of beasts and freaks.
"My faithful subjects," Arthur swept his clawed hand towards Alfred. "The most incredible thing about this human is that he isn't human at all!"
The blue-eyed man balked, but Arthur didn't seem to notice or care as he faced Alfred once more. The entire crowd watched with hungry eyes on Alfred's figure, waiting for their king to explain.
Arthur flashed him one last smile before ordering:
"Alfred Foster Jones, I command you to show us your true form!"
The blue-eyed blond felt every muscle in his body stiffen, confusion making him wrack his brain for some sort of answer. What was Arthur talking about? What did he mean by true n-
Alfred suddenly collapsed, sinking to his knees as his strength drained from him in an instant. An acute flare of pain surged through his back, writhing beneath his skin. It tore through him, straight to the core, feeling as though his very soul was being pulled apart from the inside.
Arthur stepped back as a scream tore from Alfred's throat, echoing throughout the entire chamber.
"Songbird…" he murmured, watching with mesmerized eyes as two long, red stripes peeled open from the skin tearing on Alfred's back. The satyr wanted nothing more than to kneel beside Alfred and comfort him as his chest heaved and more screams of agony ripped from his throat. But Alfred had to be strong on his own. It was almost over; Arthur could sense the magic of Alfred's true name beginning to falter as it piqued in strength. The spell of names was fast working luckily, so he knew Alfred would not suffer long.
With one last hoarse, exhausted cry, Alfred crumbled to the floor completely, body limp.
And a pair of feathery wings burst from the slits in his back. They were spread wide, each feather fluffed and the fine barbs standing away from the clear shafts. They slowly folded up, comfortably resting against Alfred's blood-smeared back as the faeries watched in awed silence.
A moment later, a collective gasp suddenly escaped from crowd, and the shrieking and murmuring began again, raging all around. But Arthur didn't hear them: he was fixated only on Alfred. The king knelt, gently carding his fingers through Alfred's hair. The blue-eyed man whimpered, scared to move for fear of agitating the pain that was slowly beginning to dull all along his spine.
"Shhh, easy, Songbird. The worst is over."
Arthur raised his free hand, and the flickering lights that had lead Alfred to Arthur reappeared.
"Bring him to my chambers. Be gentle with him."
The lights moved to attend to Alfred, while the satyr rose to his feet and addressed the Faerie crowd.
"You'll have your chance to welcome him home later, subjects. For now, let my love have a rest with his king!"
Alfred's hearing started to fade away through Arthur's small closing, vanishing completely as the blinding light overtook him once again.
This time as Alfred came back to the waking world, he was much more comfortable than before. Instead of a cold steel cage, he woke on the downy comforter of a massive bed. Alfred had to admit, it was a welcome change.
But trying to move proved to be a painful idea. A shudder ran down his spine, the muscles in his back racked with agonizing spasms. Alfred moaned in pain, burying his face into the duvet, clutching at the sheets.
"You're awake."
Surprised, Alfred raised his head, glancing over his shoulder. He gasped when blue-green wings blocked his vision. His heart began to beat faster, a fearful nervousness altering its regular tempo. The wings fluttered, as if they had a mind of their own and sensed his nervousness.
A deep chuckle resounded in the room, and Arthur stepped into view, having to move to the side of the bed to be out of Alfred's new blind spot.
"You'll get used to them again, beautiful."
Alfred swallowed, bobbing his head in understanding. What was he supposed to say? This was a life-altering shock. Alfred wasn't human, maybe he'd never been. He was some sort of avian creature with wings as colorful as a blue macaw. In fact, he was just waiting for the numbing effect of shock to wear off. It was a crumbling levee, threatening to burst at any moment as the panic slammed against the cracking side like a swollen river. Alfred was waiting for the familiar flood of emotions to drown him in fear and self-loathing.
"You still don't remember, do you?"
Alfred felt a frustrated growl bubble up from his throat.
"Just what am I supposed to remember? I trusted you, and I still don't have any answers!"
"Songb-"
"Stop calling me that! What's going on? I don't understand…" He buried his face back in the covers, grumbling swears and unintelligible insults. Another crack in the wall.
Arthur huffed a sigh, blowing his bangs out of his face. Steeling his patience, Arthur sat down on the edge of the bed. Crossing one furry leg over the other, he drummed his fingers on his thigh, waiting for Alfred to calm down. An affectionate smile painted his lips when he heard Alfred shift, finally looking to Arthur.
The satyr reached his hand out, gently brushing his knuckles against Alfred's cheek. The blue-eyed man didn't seem to mind the affection, allowing his eyes to slip to half-mast.
"I suppose I owe you an explanation, don't I?"
Alfred's only response was an annoyed scowl. He was still tired, and in pain, and understandably baffled by what had occurred in the throne room. He didn't know why beautifully colored wings had sprouted from his back when Arthur had spoken his true name, or how he even knew Arthur.
"Would this be easier if I appeared human? I see the way you look at me as if I were a monster."
"You can do that?" Alfred whispered in surprised wonder.
"Of course," Arthur leaned over Alfred, covering his eyes with a gentle hand. "I am the King of the Fae, after all." When he pulled away, Alfred blinked in surprise. The black horns were gone, his fingernails were round and blunt, and even his legs were human.
Alfred suddenly hid his face in the coverlet again, unable to help the burning blushing adorning his cheeks with a scarlet glow. Of course, Arthur hadn't been wearing pants prior to transforming, so naturally the smooth alabaster figure of his legs was still unclothed. The gentle arch of his spine was exposed, dipping past his hips, along swells of sleek muscles, all the way to- Alfred forced his thoughts away. He would not think of the Arthur's perfectly sculpted ass. It was horribly embarrassing!
The king couldn't help but tip back his head and laugh mirthfully, stretching out his long legs.
"Like what you see?"
Alfred grumbled a lie into the sheets.
"No…"
"Come now, you used to enjoy it when we made love while I was in this form. You thought it was an exciting change! Surely you can't forget that." Arthur dropped a coy wink when Alfred looked up.
He actually wished he did remember. He could only imagine what it would be like to be intimate with someone like Arthur. Trying to dream up the way those lithe, graceful muscles would feel against his own, the heat and sweat of perfect skin, all of it made Alfred's face heat up, flushing his neck and ears as well.
Arthur shifted to lie down beside Alfred. He stretched out on his belly, folding his legs back above him and playfully swinging them back and forth in the air.
"Oh, songbird~" Arthur cooed, reaching out a tender hand to stroke Alfred's hair. The pads of his fingers caressed the blue-eyed blond's scalp, making him sigh. When Arthur's fingers moved down to toy with the stray hairs at the nape of his neck, Alfred couldn't help but shiver with something akin to pleasure. He felt like Arthur knew exactly the way he liked to be gentled. It was oddly familiar, which startled Alfred, bringing him back to reality. Arthur had yet to explain the chaos that had been Alfred's- however long he'd been in this world.
"Explain…" He grumbled, still hiding his face in the downy duvet.
"Of course," Arthur agreed, inching closer to Alfred until their shoulders brushed. Alfred didn't move away, which the king took as an excellent sign and a means to continue.
"A long time ago, when I was still just a young fawn, my father ruled this world. As a child, I was very lonely. The life of royalty isn't exactly one of meaningful friendships and young love…"
Alfred turned his head, noting that Arthur had a faraway look in his eyes, one that dulled the intense emerald fire that lit his normally bright green orbs. Arthur continued, not noticing that Alfred had moved a bit closer so that the entire side of his body was warmly pressed to the king's.
"One day, I grew so lonely that I fled this place and wandered into the woods seeking a friend. In my mind, I thought: surely there had to be someone out there who would befriend a little fawn like myself. I wandered and wandered for many nights until I stumbled upon a mighty tree. Its long, sweeping branches held the nests of many bird-folk aloft in the starry sky. I was so mesmerized by the hundreds of nests that I hadn't noticed that one of them had been knocked from the tree.
It was only when I heard an angry hiss did I finally look down. And hidden among the gnarled roots that arched over the ground was you."
"M-me?" Alfred's mouth was left agape in shock. "But how?"
"Because, Alfred, you were never human. You always belonged to this world." Arthur finally seemed to notice the soothing warmth of Alfred's body against his own and smiled. He swept his arm out, looping it around the blue-eyed man's shoulders casually. He was careful of the other's sensitive wings and sore back.
"Go on." Alfred urged, glancing away shyly.
"Well, curious fawn that I was, I crouched down to get a good look at you. You were just a little fledgling then. Your wings were so tiny, all downy feathers of the brightest blue I had ever seen. You looked as if you were only a bit younger than I. I think that's why I instantly wanted to befriend you. Of course, you had other ideas. When I tried to crawl closer, you kept hissing at me, flapping those tiny wings of yours to try to fly away.
"But I wouldn't have any of that. While I was small, I was still royalty, and used to getting what I wanted. When I got close enough, I snatched you up in my arms, hugging you to my chest. I expected you to fight," Arthur rolled on to his side, nudging Alfred to do the same so that they faced each other on the bed. The winged man complied without a struggle.
"I expected you to bite or claw me, but you didn't. Instead, you clutched at my chest, letting me hold you, and I think you were crying…" Arthur carefully pulled Alfred to him, embracing the blue-eyed blond. Alfred let him, closing his eyes and nuzzling against the emerald-eyed man's neck. It was comfortable, felt entirely natural, like they'd done this a thousand times. Arthur seemed to believe that they had, and Alfred was inclined to as well if he could stay like this. Arthur was warm, his hands caressing Alfred's tender back with an easy gentleness that melted the tension from the younger's muscles. He barely knew Arthur, and yet he wanted this. He wanted to be held, and hold Arthur in turn. I just felt right; their bodies fit perfectly together, like two slotted puzzle pieces snapping in place. The blue-eyed man kept thinking about that as Arthur continued.
"I was surprised. I had no idea what to do. You seemed so scared, and honestly, so was I. I had no clue what was going on. One moment I was staring at a great tree, the next I had a beautiful fledgling in my arms. I was afraid, and like any frightened child, I ran home to my parents. Of course, I took you with me. You were too big to carry the whole way, but you had good, strong legs and ran beside me." Arthur patted Alfred's exposed thigh for emphasis, which earned an embarrassed, silly grin from the winged man.
"When I returned home, my parents scolded me, but I knew they instantly liked you. They told me all about your kind: beautiful avians that resembled what humans would call angels. They also told me about how rare one of your coloring was. Usually your kind has dark hair, dark eyes and feathers in shades of browns and grays. Finding an avian with such beautiful feathers and eyes as blue as the ocean is almost impossible because…"
Alfred nuzzled the crook of Arthur's neck, urging him to continue when he trailed off.
"Well, the reason I found you on the ground was because such colors tend attract some rather nasty predators. Your family must have thought you would only be a burden and so they pushed you out of your nest in hopes you would fall to your death. Lucky me, you survived and I found you before any predators did."
"Oh," was all Alfred could muster, feeling his throat tighten. So, he'd been abandoned in this world too. It shouldn't have been a surprise. Fate didn't favor Alfred often.
"My parents let me keep you as a companion. I suppose they thought I would treat you as a pet, but I knew you were so much more. We grew up together in the palace, eating at the same table, sleeping in the same room, playing children's games and exploring our little world. You were my best friend, really my only friend. And as we grew older, we only grew closer."
Arthur kissed the crown of fallow-gold hair, inhaling the familiar scent as if he were trying to remember it from long ago.
"When we came of age, I knew you would never be just a pet or just my friend. I wanted you, in every way. I wanted to hold you, and kiss you. I wanted to laugh with you, and lay beneath the stars with you. I wanted to make love to you, and wanted you to make love to me. I wanted to be with you: body, mind and soul. Alfred,"
"Yeah?" Alfred whispered, beginning to tremble as he pressed closer to the other man. A terrible pang of longing plucked at his heart listening to the loving tone of the king's voice.
"I knew I was in love. I loved you. I still love you. And I always will. Please, I just want you to know that."
"I know…" Alfred murmured, breathing the words against Arthur's smooth skin. "But what happened?" Arthur sighed sadly.
"I always thought we were happy. You always laughed at everything, and even when I ascended the throne, I still kept you by my side. Even when my subjects balked or taunted me about having a 'pet' for a lover, I never doubted you. You weren't a dumb beast, but you were a beautiful creature, still wild at heart. But therein I found the issue…." Arthur drew in a steadying breath.
"You were happy, we were in love, but your wild heart longed for freedom. You'd spent your entire life caged in the palace with me. Your wings barely ever felt the wind between their feathers. I knew it was something that haunted you, even when you smiled at me after we made love. I wasn't the sky. No matter how high I could take you, it just wasn't the freedom you needed. And one day… one day…."
"I flew away, didn't I?" He felt Arthur nod, heard him swallow hard, and it broke Alfred's heart knowing he had broken Arthur's.
"I came into this very room, tired from a day of speeches to my subjects, hoping to curl up with my beloved and rest. But you weren't there. The window was open, and I found a bright blue feather on the sill. There was no note, no other sign. You were just…gone.
"Of course I despaired, but deep in my heart I knew it was coming. I knew you needed the skies and a world away from here. And so I waited. Not patiently though." Arthur loosed an uneasy chuckle, stroking a hand down Alfred's bare side, feeling the familiar swells of muscle beneath taut skin.
"I sent my servants, the wisps, err, those lights that guided you here, all over the Faerie World. I wouldn't steal you back if you wanted your freedom, but I had to know you were safe. Instead, my wisps went beyond this world, to the human one. Of course, when one crosses worlds, they lose their memories of the old one. The worlds don't blend well, and so some natural law has decreed that the denizens will forget the other and their species switches over when they enter the next. I suppose it is a good thing. Of all the creatures that cross over, I'm sure the humans would be terrified of our kin."
Alfred smirked.
"Yeah, I was pretty freaked out, actually."
"I'm sure it was strange. But your memory was washed away only once. I suppose it's because this was your home, and you were returning to it. Mmm, either way, my wisps searched everywhere for you. But they're not very intelligent. I can't tell you how many blue-eyed, blond humans they lured over because they vaguely resembled you. At first, I was angry with them. I wanted you have your freedom, not be dragged back to me unwillingly, but as time passed, I began to resign myself. I lost hope, to the point where I couldn't bring myself to care with each terrified, mundane human they brought me. I sent them all back, uncaring of their injuries, their mind traumas. I admit it was wrong of me, but I was heartbroken."
Alfred tipped his head back to look into Arthur's eyes. The warm emeralds were misting up, and Arthur tried to blink the rapidly forming wetness away. He gave a little gasp when Alfred's hand touched his cheek, gently brushing away the tears.
"I understand… I wasn't happy in that other world. I lived a rough, painful life. I don't think it was the freedom my past life wanted when it left you." There was resolve in his words, and a calmness in his heart that reassured him he was doing what was right. Alfred was going to make amends, whether he remembered his crime or not.
"Are you saying…?"
"Yes, Arthur. I may not remember all the wonderful life I left. I may not remember what it's like to love you, or the childhood we shared. But you can teach me that again, can't you? We can make love, and you can teach me all about this world again."
"I can't teach you that." Arthur grinned, cupping Alfred's cheek before he leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft against Alfred's, chaste and loving at first. It was entirely blissful, making the blue-eyed man's heart flutter. He melted in Arthur's arms, feeling the other do the same. He couldn't help but tangled his fingers into the older's hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as love and desire overcame rationale. When Alfred's tongue lapped at his lips, Arthur eagerly let him in, allowing the winged man to explore his hot mouth with a curious, exuberant zeal. Their tongues slid over each other, twining in the wet heat until they were both out of breath. Alfred pulled away, panting and feeling more alive and in control then he ever had before. At least as far back as he could remember, that is.
"Arthur…"
"Alfred?"
"Artie, I'm really glad to be home." He whispered, the words ghosting against Arthur's ear. And the king could only smile joyfully.
"So am I, songbird, so welcome back."
Alfred curled up with Arthur, a tangle of limbs, soft breathing and warmth. One of the great, blue wings unfurled, draping over their figures like a downy, feathery blanket. Arthur tucked his head under is lover's chin, kissing his Adam's apple lovingly.
"It's been a long day…"
"Yeah, let's get some sleep."
Arthur was silent for a moment before sighing into the blue-eyed man's sensitive neck, mouthing the words against the vulnerable, tantalizing skin when he spoke at last.
"Will you be here when I wake up?"
"Of course. I swear, Artie, I will never leave you again." He felt the emerald-eyed king smile into his throat.
"Goodnight, my love."
"Goodnight." And they both fell asleep to the quiet lull of each other's heartbeats and their soft breathing.
Some notes on the mythology:
Wisps, or Will-O'-the-Wisps are ghostly lights that lure travelers from a safe path by night. I thought they would make excellent guides for curious humans into the Faerie world.
Entrance to the Faerie world. In many mythologies, mythical creatures can only enter a new place by invitation. It seemed fitting for it to work vice versa.
Satyrs were the companions of minor nature gods and Pan. Giving Arthur a musical voice alludes to the familiar image of satyrs carrying and playing pipes that sounded like the wind.