Once upon a time, on the highest and coldest mountain a magical flower grew. A blue rose with amazing capability to give a single human the knowledge of the whole universe.
When Jim started, Sherlock was maneuvered, so he would sit between the criminal consultant's legs.
The flower seduced every traveler with its beauty and legend. However to gain rose's power – the seeker had to cut it from the black ground.
Holmes allowed his head to lie down on Moriarty's chest, while Jim made himself comfortable on the bed.
Many tried to take it, but no story, no rumor warned about a diabolical curse connected to the blue creature. Spikes of rose promised only a long and painful death.
Jim practically hummed with every word, taking the pleasure from Sherlock's discomfort. The detective's heartbeat got quicker, when Moriarty put his arms around him – momentarily flooding Holmes with all unwelcome memories, which he had experience since the kidnap.
In the best scenario, Sherlock thought as Jim's hand accommodated itself on his stomach, it would end only on a simple hug and petting my hairs.
So the flower grew, lonely and almost abandoned on the cold mountain. Time passed and nothing seemed to change. Visitors, who somehow managed to reach the top, came and went away, all desiring to use the blue rose for selfish reasons. Some were just admiring it from a safe distance, eventually even them tried to possess the magical flower.
With years passing by, people from the nearest villages started whispering among each other. They realised that the rose would bring nothing, but the destruction. People plotted to remove the flower from their existence. However they were unable to transplant the rose, as it managed to glue roots between hard stones. The fire or wind could not destroy it either, as it got used to changeable weather.
So the flower grew, as if nothing had happened, but with it also the hatred of people.
The rose was not bad, not good. It just had, what people wanted the most (except for the eternal life). Not able to share it with anyone. Not understood by anyone, who came to see her. Alone.
Sherlock sighed resigned, when he found out his role in the story.
"Don't interrupt." Jim said as to a naughty child.
People, blinded by the danger, did not want or even try to understand the unique gift.
Villagers had to hire a magician, whose spells could transport the mountain far away from their home. Even a planet. The price for the magician's service was very high. Many lost their fortunes, only to feel themselves safe.
When it was done – The magician, pleased with his work, walked away to seek another adventure. The spell, which he created, made him famous and all nobility wanted to meet him. The future was promising him many happy years.
Villagers could at last sleep without worry that some of them would desire to see the rose. With time even a legend of the blue flower would disappear as if it had never existed. But as well something else had changed, or not – people always would want to become a part of the eternal story. The grey existence of life became unbearable. It seemed that the known fairy tale was better than the unknown. The rose would not hurt them anymore, but on the other side of country, stories of different beautiful creatures seduced villagers to leave home and try to become famous.
When the spell was said, the rose did not vanish, as all people thought. Somehow, the magician did not take in mind that the flower could have the will of its own. The strong will to live. In the far blackest of cosmos, the mountain transformed itself into a tiny planet with a life-giving atmosphere.
It was also quickly inhabited by a small prince. The rose charmed him as all people from Earth. The boy build a crystal bowl around her so nothing or anything would hurt the flower. The prince cherished her more than all things in the universe.
So the blue rose grew, so did the prince.
The flower never understood why humans allowed the stupidity to rule their lives. She blamed the curse, then she was grateful that it protected her from them.
The rose was confused and angry that she allowed herself to be so easily controlled on the new small planet. Why didn't the prince cut her? Why did he let her stay? The boy many times showed that he was far from being stupid.
The misunderstanding was exhausting, but then the prince asked her a different question: why magician's spell did not kill her?
The rose wanted to survive. She also wanted to be free more than anyone. But rules of universe were unchangeable. Every tree, bush or flower were destined only one place. How could a plant be free?
"I can give you the freedom." the prince said in a kind voice. "I can show you the world. I will show you things, which a normal being has never dreamed about. Wouldn't you want it?"
It born an interest in the blue rose.
"The curse has never been a curse. It's a fear. You are afraid that someone would become dear to you."
The flower was speechless, seeing the truth.
"Have you never known about it?" the compassion and surprise in prince's voice made her even more devastated than in the beginning. All those lost years ... the answer was so simple."You can control it. We all can."
"Human's spikes may be invisible, but they are there." he said with understanding, while noticing rose's confusion. "We can push others away and made them cry, but all lies in our hands, we can control our actions, our 'spikes'..."
"Please believe me that I have never meant to hurt you." The prince told her earnestly. "I see that you are sad. I can't make it disappear completely, I don't know if it will be ever possible, but we can try ... I found the right spell."
The hope was rising in flower's spirit. Not all had been lost to her. There was still time. She would leave the tiny planet, run, jump and dance between silver stars.
The prince looked at her down, a strange glint appeared in his black eyes.
"In exchange, I will use you as I like and you will never refuse any of my wishes."
"Sherlock? Are you asleep?"
When only a quiet snoring answered him, Jim was really disappointed. He was so absorbed in his performance that the consultant did not notice, when Holmes closed his eyes. Did not he know that writing a proper bedtime story can take a lot of time? The romantic moment completely faded away.
Then, the dark prince looked at his sleeping flower. Couple weeks could pass, until Sherlock would be as Jim liked him the best. He could finish it right now. Moriarty always liked story tales.
"Sometimes, you will remove your spikes from my touch. Hide them, when I order you. You will bless me with information, when I demand it, and much more ..."
It was no freedom, flower knew. She could refuse, but the prince was not a small boy anymore, he became a strong and lustful man. He read many books and learned thousands spells. The knowledge, which was absorbed in the rose's petals, did not interest him as a mere mortal from Earth. His skills could be even compared to hers.
The rose had never imagined that some of people wanted to have her, not to gain wisdom, but to possess her beauty without worrying of the death.
The powerful prince could cut her from the world if needed, leaving her in cold and black rain, as it was before on the highest mountain.
It was no freedom, but the flower at least she would never ever be alone.
And the prince and blue rose spent many, many years with each other...
With it, Jim closed the gap between him and asleep detective.
A/N: The fic was inspired by "Little prince" and story about lonely rose from "Pan's Labyrinth". If you watched/read them, then I presume that you saw the resemblance. I hope that my version interesting, even if it copied the plot from movie/book.
At first, I wrote only the fairy tale, but later I added scenes with Jim/Sherlock from the real life and I think that they look quite good. But I am rather sceptical that Sherlock would fall asleep so quickly, especially when Jim was nearby, but then the ending would differently.
