Notes: first published on AO3, 2013-04-09 ( archiveofourown works /753651). Wow, it seems only yesterday, and it's already been three years!

Spectres from the past - both imaginary and not.
Original notes: pure speculation with a dash of canon ;) This may happen after or before the Reveal (we know the boys always encounter some setback); personally, I think Laurent has always known about Damen, but we'll see. Just a little tribute to the magnificence that is Captive Prince :3

And yay, I (and many other readers) was right in thinking Laurent knew :D and it was glorious!


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Spectres

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Only a few hours before the final clash, now.
Grooms, liveried servants and Akielons in half-armour, their powerful legs exposed to the air, are moving in Fortaine's vast courtyard. The old travel tents – shells as bright as paper lanterns – have been pitched for them between the stables and the tower. Somewhere down in the barracks, Damen is pulling the strings of all this. It is he at the heart of the army.
Laurent retires, closing the mullioned window's shutter with care but not leaving the sill. He feels suspended in time.
With a refulgent blaze, the sun dies on the horizon. Night falls and, slowly, the glass sends back a visage. On the pane's irregular surface, amber-coloured from the brazier's glimmer, it is vague enough not to look like his. Laurent stays still and gazes in the eyes of a ghost, breath caught.
The world's voices are far away. It's like being on the edge, at the threshold of the other.
"Do you see?" his mouth murmurs, and it's so stupid a thing to let it do. "I've grown up."
The face cracks a smile.
Hesitant, he raises an arm to trace its contours. Blond hair, an elongated oval, the chin and cheekbones of a man. Like Auguste's.
They had seemed unattainable.
"The more I age the more I resemble you... even if never enough" he whispers. "Maybe it will be sufficient to win, all the same?"
Somewhere in the castle a zither's strings tremble. The last diversions before death.
Laurent's lips twist. "I know I have let you down."
He comes closer. His breath leaves a fleeting halo on the ghost's cheek.
I would ask for your forgiveness, were stupidity forgivable... and if I regretted love.
He lets their brows touch. The glass is slightly warm.
"I do wrong to your memory. I know that." And, in a murmur: I know.
The face ripples; Laurent closes his eyes.
"But he restored me to life." He's never been scared by the truth. "He's the most honest man I've ever met, after you."
This and much, much more.
But he doesn't say that, because he's done quite enough.
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Below, someone kindles a bonfire. Laurent opes his eyes and find himself alone.