1 Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, even if they are in an alternate
universe.
BIG HUGE NOTE: Slash ahead, but nothing inappropriate. Not your cup of tea? Then leave before you dirty my napkins.
2 Magic in Music
He was not a man, but not a beast. He was a prince, of all things that a not-quite man could be. He looked in every respect like a man, but at night, when the moon was full, his real self was revealed. This was not a terror matter such as with werewolves or vampires, but it was of a more fantasy nature. The crisp moonlight would shine upon his golden shoulders and wings as delicate as a spider's web would sprout from his back. His fair skin would grow paler still until it nearly matched his wings. His piercing blue eyes grew ever more so, and his already lengthy blond hair grew even more. Perhaps godlike is a better term than faire for this prince, but that was the term given to him by the Old Wise Woman at the time of his birth. She knew everything about everybody, her accuracy was infallible and her opinions were never questioned. So a faire he was. A faire prince to the literal extreme. This prince was nearing the age at which he was to take over his father's throne, but the young man was not yet ready to do this. First, he wanted to see the world and all the wonders and magic in it.
On his 18th birthday, he was to take his father's throne, so the day after his 17th birthday, the young prince set out on his quest to see the world. He packed little with him, and wore the clothing of a commoner. He vowed to see everything he could before the time came when, in a little less than a year, he would secede his father's throne.
The morn that he left dawned clear and bright. With little agenda and a lot of desire for adventure, the faire prince left the palace grounds that he had known all his life, and set out for the nearby mountains.
On the way, he had time to contemplate his fate. Why was he not man like everybody else? Why was the gift of wings and faire magic his? To what great purpose must he ultimately serve? These questions among others he contemplated as he continued his walk towards the mountains.
Many weeks later, still unsure of his purpose in life, and nearly to the mountains, which were his ultimate goal (at least, for now), the prince had a strange vision. In his dream, he heard faint whispers of music coming from an unfamiliar musical apparatus. Colors danced in front of his eyes, and the sounds grew stronger until the music filled his ears like a great symphony performance in which he was sitting on the stage with. He turned his eyes toward the instrument, and the long, glamorous hands that were playing it. Before he was able to look past the hands though, he awoke. More confused than ever, the young prince set out on his journey once again early the next morning.
While walking, the prince thought that he could hear the strains of strange music coming from the direction of the woods that lied between him and the mountain. As he listened, he recognized the sound as the one heard from his dream. As he headed into the forest, following the exotic sound, he grew more and more dissatisfied with his life. As a child, he had always been shy and quiet, and hence shunned by his peers. With his isolation grew his confusion, and as he aged he continued to understand less and less of the world around him. Why could he not play music such as what he heard? Why was he given wings yet could not fly? Why, with the light of the full moon did his skin change color and his eyes brighten? Why did his hair change, but not his heart? Why did he still feel like nothing more than a scared, confused little boy terrified of his classmates' mockery or his parents' disapproval? Why did his life contain such little pride? Hope? Love? He knew nothing of anything, and he felt that things would always be this way. So the lone faire prince continued his route through the forest, completely absorbed in his thoughts, and unconsciously following the sweet, strange music. It was not until he was practically upon the sound that he was snapped out of his stupor. Startled, he stumbled and collapsed on top of a small figure wearing a long, dark cape and holding a strange bit of shaped metal.
The prince looked up to see what he had fallen upon. The first thing he saw was a pair of glamorous hands, exactly like those found in his dream. Following the hands were smooth arms that lead to strong shoulders, an elegant neck, and finally the most gorgeous face that the prince had ever set eyes on. The prince froze in shock. Although he was admittedly unsure as to whether the shock was from the fact that he had found this person so attractive, or because the person was male, or because of the mutual attraction that the prince could see so plainly printed in his eyes.
The prince stared at the eyes of the enthralling musician, taking in their emerald brilliance. Tangled wisps of hair fell into them, making the boy/man seem as much a part of wild nature as the tree they had fallen down next to.
With extreme caution, the prince brought his hand up to touch the other's cheek, as if fearing that the musician might disappear if touched, and the mirage would be revealed in truth to be some demon or monster.
When the prince touched his face and discovered that it was a real person beneath him, he thought his heart might stop for joy. When the boy/man leaned up to kiss him, he thought it might instead burst from emotion. The strange, new, but good feelings came coursing over the prince's body as he returned the gift. The deepening of the gift brought a sudden epiphany to the prince. He did not need to know why anymore. He did not need to know why his life had been filled with so little pride, hope and love. Because he had all of them now, in the arms of a mysterious musician.
Then, a strange thing happened to the prince. While he lay there next to his newly found love, he began to feel a tingling sensation in the middle of his back. He recognized it as the beginning of his transformation, yet there was no full moon. Confused and frightened, the prince could do nothing but wait until the process was finished.
Once completed, he stood up to leave his musician, sure now that he could never want such a person as himself. He was a freak. A faire who could not fly. As he began to walk away, head down in despair, he felt one of the glamorous hands grasp his wrist. The musician turned him around, to look deep into his eyes before tenderly kissing him again.
A strange feeling of power came over the prince. Heat radiated from his body, as an experience like never before attacked every fiber of his being. The prince stared at the musician in confusion. But then, realization dawned on him. With this power he could … he could … fly! Fly!
With the feeling of greatest elation, he spread his wings and took off into the night sky. Next to him flew the musician, on his instrument.
"You did this," said the prince, speaking to his love for the first time. "How?"
The musician only smiled at him.
Not willing to be put off so quickly, the prince questioned him again. "How did you give me the power to fly?"
"I gave you nothing," said the musician, whose voice was sweeter than any sound produced from his instrument. "The power has always been inside you, but the questions of your heart made it impossible for your true abilities to shine. I only offered an alternative to questions."
"By providing me with something I needed so desperately with no questions asked," said the prince. "Thank you," he added.
The musician smiled again. "Everybody needs love in their life. There is no need to thank me."
"But how did you know?" the prince asked. "You knew what I needed. How? You were waiting for me in the forest, weren't you," he said, realization crossing over his pale, beautiful face.
"Yes," said the musician simply.
"Why?" asked the prince.
"That is a question that you no longer need answered," said the musician. The prince supposed that he was right, but decided that he needed to have one more question answered.
"Who are you?"
"Somebody who loves you," said the musician.
"Would you at least tell me you name?" cried the prince, desperate.
"Harry," said the musician simply.
"I suppose that's all your going to tell me." Harry nodded. "I also suppose you already know who I am."
"Of course, Prince Draco," said Harry. Draco had known that this strange, beautiful, mysterious creature would somehow know his name, since his musician had already known his heart and soul, but it was still unsettling to hear.
"Wait, where are you going?" asked Draco, noticing that Harry had turned to leave.
"To where I can watch over you and wait until your journey is complete," said Harry.
"But I don't need to go any farther! I have found you, and I do not need anything else," said Draco in desperation.
"There are other things you need that you must find before you take the throne. But do not despair," Harry said, seeing the look on Draco's face. "I will always be with you. And at the end of your journey, I will be waiting for you." Kissing him softly again, Harry dropped from the air on his instrument to the treetops below, vanishing.
For a moment, Draco was still, trying to memorize the taste of Harry's lips upon his own. Once this was accomplished, he too descended, and began his journey once again. He did not know what he would find, but he knew what treasure waited for him at the end of the road, and that was enough motivation for him.
BIG HUGE NOTE: Slash ahead, but nothing inappropriate. Not your cup of tea? Then leave before you dirty my napkins.
2 Magic in Music
He was not a man, but not a beast. He was a prince, of all things that a not-quite man could be. He looked in every respect like a man, but at night, when the moon was full, his real self was revealed. This was not a terror matter such as with werewolves or vampires, but it was of a more fantasy nature. The crisp moonlight would shine upon his golden shoulders and wings as delicate as a spider's web would sprout from his back. His fair skin would grow paler still until it nearly matched his wings. His piercing blue eyes grew ever more so, and his already lengthy blond hair grew even more. Perhaps godlike is a better term than faire for this prince, but that was the term given to him by the Old Wise Woman at the time of his birth. She knew everything about everybody, her accuracy was infallible and her opinions were never questioned. So a faire he was. A faire prince to the literal extreme. This prince was nearing the age at which he was to take over his father's throne, but the young man was not yet ready to do this. First, he wanted to see the world and all the wonders and magic in it.
On his 18th birthday, he was to take his father's throne, so the day after his 17th birthday, the young prince set out on his quest to see the world. He packed little with him, and wore the clothing of a commoner. He vowed to see everything he could before the time came when, in a little less than a year, he would secede his father's throne.
The morn that he left dawned clear and bright. With little agenda and a lot of desire for adventure, the faire prince left the palace grounds that he had known all his life, and set out for the nearby mountains.
On the way, he had time to contemplate his fate. Why was he not man like everybody else? Why was the gift of wings and faire magic his? To what great purpose must he ultimately serve? These questions among others he contemplated as he continued his walk towards the mountains.
Many weeks later, still unsure of his purpose in life, and nearly to the mountains, which were his ultimate goal (at least, for now), the prince had a strange vision. In his dream, he heard faint whispers of music coming from an unfamiliar musical apparatus. Colors danced in front of his eyes, and the sounds grew stronger until the music filled his ears like a great symphony performance in which he was sitting on the stage with. He turned his eyes toward the instrument, and the long, glamorous hands that were playing it. Before he was able to look past the hands though, he awoke. More confused than ever, the young prince set out on his journey once again early the next morning.
While walking, the prince thought that he could hear the strains of strange music coming from the direction of the woods that lied between him and the mountain. As he listened, he recognized the sound as the one heard from his dream. As he headed into the forest, following the exotic sound, he grew more and more dissatisfied with his life. As a child, he had always been shy and quiet, and hence shunned by his peers. With his isolation grew his confusion, and as he aged he continued to understand less and less of the world around him. Why could he not play music such as what he heard? Why was he given wings yet could not fly? Why, with the light of the full moon did his skin change color and his eyes brighten? Why did his hair change, but not his heart? Why did he still feel like nothing more than a scared, confused little boy terrified of his classmates' mockery or his parents' disapproval? Why did his life contain such little pride? Hope? Love? He knew nothing of anything, and he felt that things would always be this way. So the lone faire prince continued his route through the forest, completely absorbed in his thoughts, and unconsciously following the sweet, strange music. It was not until he was practically upon the sound that he was snapped out of his stupor. Startled, he stumbled and collapsed on top of a small figure wearing a long, dark cape and holding a strange bit of shaped metal.
The prince looked up to see what he had fallen upon. The first thing he saw was a pair of glamorous hands, exactly like those found in his dream. Following the hands were smooth arms that lead to strong shoulders, an elegant neck, and finally the most gorgeous face that the prince had ever set eyes on. The prince froze in shock. Although he was admittedly unsure as to whether the shock was from the fact that he had found this person so attractive, or because the person was male, or because of the mutual attraction that the prince could see so plainly printed in his eyes.
The prince stared at the eyes of the enthralling musician, taking in their emerald brilliance. Tangled wisps of hair fell into them, making the boy/man seem as much a part of wild nature as the tree they had fallen down next to.
With extreme caution, the prince brought his hand up to touch the other's cheek, as if fearing that the musician might disappear if touched, and the mirage would be revealed in truth to be some demon or monster.
When the prince touched his face and discovered that it was a real person beneath him, he thought his heart might stop for joy. When the boy/man leaned up to kiss him, he thought it might instead burst from emotion. The strange, new, but good feelings came coursing over the prince's body as he returned the gift. The deepening of the gift brought a sudden epiphany to the prince. He did not need to know why anymore. He did not need to know why his life had been filled with so little pride, hope and love. Because he had all of them now, in the arms of a mysterious musician.
Then, a strange thing happened to the prince. While he lay there next to his newly found love, he began to feel a tingling sensation in the middle of his back. He recognized it as the beginning of his transformation, yet there was no full moon. Confused and frightened, the prince could do nothing but wait until the process was finished.
Once completed, he stood up to leave his musician, sure now that he could never want such a person as himself. He was a freak. A faire who could not fly. As he began to walk away, head down in despair, he felt one of the glamorous hands grasp his wrist. The musician turned him around, to look deep into his eyes before tenderly kissing him again.
A strange feeling of power came over the prince. Heat radiated from his body, as an experience like never before attacked every fiber of his being. The prince stared at the musician in confusion. But then, realization dawned on him. With this power he could … he could … fly! Fly!
With the feeling of greatest elation, he spread his wings and took off into the night sky. Next to him flew the musician, on his instrument.
"You did this," said the prince, speaking to his love for the first time. "How?"
The musician only smiled at him.
Not willing to be put off so quickly, the prince questioned him again. "How did you give me the power to fly?"
"I gave you nothing," said the musician, whose voice was sweeter than any sound produced from his instrument. "The power has always been inside you, but the questions of your heart made it impossible for your true abilities to shine. I only offered an alternative to questions."
"By providing me with something I needed so desperately with no questions asked," said the prince. "Thank you," he added.
The musician smiled again. "Everybody needs love in their life. There is no need to thank me."
"But how did you know?" the prince asked. "You knew what I needed. How? You were waiting for me in the forest, weren't you," he said, realization crossing over his pale, beautiful face.
"Yes," said the musician simply.
"Why?" asked the prince.
"That is a question that you no longer need answered," said the musician. The prince supposed that he was right, but decided that he needed to have one more question answered.
"Who are you?"
"Somebody who loves you," said the musician.
"Would you at least tell me you name?" cried the prince, desperate.
"Harry," said the musician simply.
"I suppose that's all your going to tell me." Harry nodded. "I also suppose you already know who I am."
"Of course, Prince Draco," said Harry. Draco had known that this strange, beautiful, mysterious creature would somehow know his name, since his musician had already known his heart and soul, but it was still unsettling to hear.
"Wait, where are you going?" asked Draco, noticing that Harry had turned to leave.
"To where I can watch over you and wait until your journey is complete," said Harry.
"But I don't need to go any farther! I have found you, and I do not need anything else," said Draco in desperation.
"There are other things you need that you must find before you take the throne. But do not despair," Harry said, seeing the look on Draco's face. "I will always be with you. And at the end of your journey, I will be waiting for you." Kissing him softly again, Harry dropped from the air on his instrument to the treetops below, vanishing.
For a moment, Draco was still, trying to memorize the taste of Harry's lips upon his own. Once this was accomplished, he too descended, and began his journey once again. He did not know what he would find, but he knew what treasure waited for him at the end of the road, and that was enough motivation for him.