Disclaimer: I own nothing; Clive Barker is the genius behind these characters.
Author's Notes: Wrote this in a couple of hours just being bored and listening to one of my favorite songs. It is titled "Blue" and is by a band called VAST, which is my absolute favorite band hands down. If you can, you should try to download the song to listen to while reading this. It's got the right mood and everything.
I just want to remind everyone who didn't pay enough attention to the summary – Quiffin and Carrion are a lot younger during this ficlet.
Blue
The Sea of Izabella stretches out in every direction as far as the eye can see. The islands of Abarat have been left far behind. Now there is nothing but the blue waters slapping at the sides of the ship and rocking it gently towards the horizon. Christopher Carrion and Quiffin stand on the deck and, despite the crew working in the background, they feel like the only two people alive on a world of water.
Christopher Carrion is the Lord of Midnight. Quiffin is the Prince of Day. But titles do not matter on Izabella's waves.
Christopher watches Quiffin, who is focused on the cloudless sky, as blue as the water. Quiffin's hair, blacker than the night, the only thing reassuring to Christopher in a setting so bright, is dancing in the wind and whipping around his face, which is pale but tinged pink from the sun shine. It is such a beautiful picture, the handsome Quiffin against such a brilliant blue background. Christopher searches for a compliment to offer the other man, but can find no words lovely enough in his nightmarish mind. He remains silent, studying Quiffin's gorgeous features, so full of adoration that he is not even jealous.
The ship is hit by a large wave that sprays foam high enough to reach Christopher's and Quiffin's faces. Quiffin smiles and turns to Christopher as they wipe the saltwater from their cheeks.
Christopher takes advantage of the moment. "When I feel my worst, I come out to sea and the water comforts me," he says, and immediately regrets saying something so stupid.
However, Quiffin does not seem to think it is stupid at all. "Me, too. I love Mama Izabella like I love my own mother. It baffles me how any person could get seasick."
Quffin's amiability has made Christopher shy again. He shrugs and avoids Quiffin's eyes, instead studying the ripples in the water. Quiffin continues talking, oblivious to Christopher's uneasiness.
"I want to die at sea," Quiffin says and takes a step closer to Christopher. He leans on the railing and stares out at the distance. "One day, when I am older, I will come out without any intention of returning. It would be the happiest death. Imagine being taken into Mama Izabella's embrace for eternity… slip into the blue."
"It would be quite a romantic ending," Christopher says, and leans on the railing beside Quiffin. He tilts his body to be nearer to the other man, and a smile is tickling the corners of his lips.
"This is quite a morbid subject, but since we are talking about it… What would your ideal death be?" Quiffin asks, turning to Christopher.
Christopher had never thought there could be an "ideal" death. He considers it for a moment, and then turns to Quiffin to answer. His breath is stolen away on the breeze. Here he is, on board one of his ships, his face only inches away from Prince Quiffin's. He could die happy then and there. That would be his ideal death.
"I do not care how I die, as long as I am not alone," he replies, his voice barely over a whisper.
"Really? I would prefer dying alone," Quiffin says, and turns back to the water.
Christopher takes a deep breath and elaborates, "I don't mean that I want someone else to be there. I mean that… I would like to have others care about me enough to mourn my death. And I would like someone that I love waiting for me in the afterlife."
They make eye contact again and Quiffin is beaming. "I would not expect you to say something like that. No offense, of course, but I had pictured you as the loner type."
"I am," Christopher replies, and is uncomfortable again. He avoids Quiffin's unnerving smile. "I just don't want to die that way."
"I am sure you won't. My sister seems to like you a great deal, and I certainly do. Your problem is that you always have to keep up your 'bad boy' image."
Christopher would never let anyone talk to him like that. He is angry, but he loves Quiffin so much that he is able to control his anger. He tries to throw Quiffin some warning glares, but Quiffin has become absorbed in the scenery again. Sighing, Christopher thinks that their conversation has made a full circle and is now back where it started.
"How is your sister?" Christopher wonders. After all, if it were not for her, he would not be on this ship with Prince Quiffin in the first place. He had spent the last few months courting her, and she was far more attractive and charming than her brother. The magnetism must run in the family, because here he was drooling over the Prince of Day while the rest of his time was spent fantasizing of the Princess.
"Good, I suppose…" There is a pause. "That is the first time you have mentioned my dear Boa… I had assumed the only reason you would invite me to spend the day with you would be to talk about her. But you obviously had other motives…"
Christopher feels sick. His momentary happiness has been ripped away again. He curses himself for being so foolish.
"Why did you want me to come with you, Christopher, if it wasn't for Boa?"
They are interrupted when Izabella comes to Christopher's rescue, splashing them both. Quiffin laughs and runs fingers through his soaked hair while Christopher brushes the water from his brow. The water on Quiffin is glistening in the sun, almost hurting Christopher's eyes. Quiffin licks the saltwater from his lips.
Christopher cannot resist Quiffin's pink candy tongue. He grabs Quiffin by the shoulders and pulls him closer, then tangles his fingers in Quiffin's wet hair and stares into those beautiful eyes for a moment. Quiffin understands and his eyes and mouth are shocked into the shape of little O's. Between Quiffin's parted lips, Christopher sees the tongue again. He leans in and grabs it with his teeth, gently forcing it forward so that he can take it between his own heavily scarred lips. Quiffin does not protest; he wraps his lips around Christopher's. Their tongues do not taste like candy. Their tongues taste brackish from the sea. Christopher is crying, and Quiffin is taking the tears in with his eager mouth, unable to distinguish them from the saltwater. They are drowning in emotion and eventually have to come up for air.
Quiffin's arms, which have been hanging limp at his sides, wrap around Christopher's neck. He stands on his toes to reach the taller man's ear, in which he whispers, "Let's throw ourselves overboard, Christopher. Let's die together right now."
Quiffin is joking, Christopher wishes that he was not. He drops his head onto Quiffin's shoulder and kisses Quiffin's throat tenderly. Quiffin stands for it, chuckling, but pushes Christopher away when the kisses become too passionate. He looks up at Christopher's face and is surprised to find him crying.
Izabella nudges the ship and Christopher stumbles into Quiffin's arms. Quiffin is all smiles again as he shower's Christopher's face in kisses then steps back, disentangling himself from Christopher's arms. "Stop crying," he demands, taking Christopher's bony hands into his own.
The moment is bittersweet. Christopher is happy beyond words standing on deck with Quiffin, but he knows there is a reality to return to. And in his reality, where everything is always midnight, the water will never be blue.