Happily Ever After
By: RavenHeart101
Disclaimer: I wish I could claim ownership for ANY of this. Sadly, I cannot. I know... it's a very sad day.
Summary: Noah Puckerman is a twenty six year old police detective and lives a relatively normal life with his partner in New York City. Until the daughter that he hasn't seen since she was born shows up and tells him a story of how he's the only one who can stop a fairytale curse from continuing. It doesn't help that things start happening in the small town the moment Noah brings Beth back home.
A thanks to all those who reviewed: Aledda (It's certainly going to be fluffier than Cadenza. I hope. I make no promises. My muse tends to bring me places I don't want to go.), fuffylover (Aww yay! Thank you!), omgbelle (-blushes- I'm not sure if they're all great but thank you for your kind words.), M. J. Goldie (Thank you!), Kimmi G (You should watch it as soon as you can. It's an amazing show.), eaglegirl1202 (Eee! Thank you!), LukeorMarch (As you should. Don't guess my plots sweetie. You won't win.), Utena-Puchiko-nyu (Thank you. :D), and PopcornSoda (The internet will work miracles. Google it. I'm sure you'll find a website streaming it. :D Ahhh! Have fun! It's so nice to hear that people still read that story.).
A: N – A damn good turn out for a first chapter. Love you all. :D
The Prince fell back against his chair, a sigh passing through his lips and his cup handing almost limply from his fingers. His brown eyes never strayed from the floor, observing all the cracks and all the dirt and dust. His cloak was slung over the side of the ornate throne, blue and flowing. The Prince wore his traditional "down-time" clothing – his hunting pants, dark brown that they were, and his dark blue and brown long sleeved shirt. A tiny layer of thinly cut brown hair sat on top of his head, his sword at the foot of the throne, resting with care beside his outstretched hand.
The Prince's skin was tan and clean and his lips were pink and pursed in thought. He tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling with something a kin to worry.
This Prince wasn't one to worry a lot, though that isn't to say that he never worried. Simply he just didn't have much to worry about besides his mother and sister. He didn't bother thinking and worrying about others. Especially about his father and the people within the kingdom. The Prince cared about the people, but he honestly did not believe that he had the energy or the authority to be worried. He hadn't been Prince for very long and the only reason he was staying was to ensure that his mother and sister would be alive and kept safe.
Maybe the Prince had made a mistake when he asked the thief to show. Or maybe he hadn't. All the Prince knew was that there was something about the other boy that was attracting so much of his attention. Like an invisible tether at the core of his very being. The thief was imprisoned for a reason – a very good reason at that, he had somehow managed to sneak in and out of the castle twenty times without ever being noticed or caught by anyone besides the Prince. And when the Prince had caught him he couldn't help but be stunned by his beauty.
He had tanned skin, yet skin that was paler than his own. He had the most stunning hazel eyes, the orbs wide and yet guarded, the green and brown swirling together in perfect unison. His hair looked deliciously soft, the curls cut short and controlled, yet still bouncing up on top of his head.
The Prince was smitten from the moment he had laid eyes on him.
It was scarily shocking, to be honest. So far the Prince had had no romantic interests, no matter who his father tried to set him up with. No matter who he was "married" to in the eyes of the kingdom.
Nothing cliché like his heart stopping happened. No. It was nothing like that.
He had been shocked is all. So incredibly shocked and taken in by the thief's beauty the first time he had seen him. And the thief had simply stared at him for a moment, most likely trying to figure out whether he had a chance of running or not, before a small upturn of his lips overcame his features and he was jumping out the open window of the Prince's father's study.
The Prince sighed, sitting forward in his seat and willing the guards to hurry up. He did not have a whole lot of time before his "wife" was going to be back from her day spent out of town and the Prince would like to get some insight into this connection before he did anything else.
Footsteps, around four and measured in precise footfalls, interrupted every once in a while by a stuttering staccato before falling back into rhythm. The Prince sat up straighter, arranging himself into the image of nonchalance, his back pressed against the throne and his feet settled firmly on the ground. He gripped his cup tighter, in a more sure grip than it had been in before. "My Prince." One of the guards, the one leading in the thief by a tight hand on his arm bowed in acknowledgment.
The Prince nodded his head back, letting a tiny smirk cross his lips for good measure, taking in with a pang how the guards shoved the thief roughly to the ground so that he was kneeling before the Prince. "Show your Prince some respect."
The thief held his tongue, staring down at the floor with pursed lips and narrowed, determined eyes. The Prince frowned when the prisoner didn't even so much as look at him. The guard behind the thief took on an almost murderous stance, outrage clouding his face and his hand reaching out to slap the prisoner. "No." The Prince spoke firmly, halting all movement. "You may leave." He nodded towards the door, beckoning the guards out of the hall.
"My Prince-" One protested.
"Go." The Prince's voice took on a steal edge, warning the guards of what would happen if they did not obey.
They blanched before retreating through the door, muttering to themselves as they turned into the corridor and shut the heavy metal behind them. The thief stayed kneeling in the middle of the floor, making no motion to change his position. The Prince slipped off his throne and stood before him, taking in the disheveled appearance, the dirty face, the uncontrolled hair, the ripped clothing. The thief had never looked more like a commoner than he did at that moment. "What is your name?" The Prince asked softly, repeating himself when he received no answer.
And when he received no answer then he couldn't help blinking and falling back against the throne, leaning against it with shock and confusion. No one had ever disobeyed his orders since he had become Prince. "You do realize what I could do to if you do not answer."
Still, the thief defiantly kept his mouth shut. Fury began to coil in the Prince's stomach. Who did this thief think he was? His foot rested on the thief's shoulder, kicking him backwards, relishing in the grunt that passed through his lips. The Prince circled the figure before him, kneeling down beside him and turning his head to look into his eyes. The thief avoided his gaze, his head turning aggravatingly to the side until the Prince gripped his chin and made their eyes connect. His lips were practically glued shut in protest, his stunning hazel eyes hardened in anger, his forehead uncreased and the Prince watched as his features visibly went lax, making it close to impossible to read anything off of him. He was good. "I could have you executed. Killed. Tortured."
The Prince's eyes narrowed as he stared at the silent thief. He was no older than him, in fact he was probably younger, in his late teens most likely. It was a weird thought. The Prince had been no better than this thief a year ago. "Your entrails could be cut out and strewn across the room." That didn't even garner a reaction and the Prince had to sit back on his heals to think of a way to get the thief to crack. His hand relaxed along the thief's chin, but the thief made no motion to move his hand out his grasp. "I could order your family to be killed. A sister or brother perhaps? A close friend."
And there. There was that reaction he had been hoping for. His hazel eyes flashed in something close to fear. The Prince couldn't help the small smirk that crossed over his lips.
"A curse?" Noah stared at her in disbelief, an eyebrow raised in question. Even Blaine sat back in his seat, confusion etched onto his face and Noah's hand heavy on his shoulder. Beth stared at the two of them, taking the question as an invitation to explain more.
Her voice began to build up, filling with excitement because it was obvious that she had yet to tell anyone any of her theory until now. "You're a prince, Noah." Her voice was full of wonder, her brown eyes wide. "There was this time, this whole other universe, where your father reigned over this huge land. But then this queen came, the queen from Snow White, and raged war on every neighboring kingdom. When Snow White was kissed by Prince Charming they were able to take their spot as the rightful King and Queen and the war ended. Until the evil queen came back on their wedding day, and you were there Noah, and so were you," She nodded at Blaine who nodded along slowly, an encouraging smile on his distressed face. Guess this wasn't exactly the puppy he had been expecting. "But, anyway, she showed up and cursed everyone into this world. You were knocked out and you, you just weren't affected for some really cool reason, and the curse didn't affect you right."
She paused to heave in a deep breath, a smile over her lips and her fingers tapping out on the cover of the big book eagerly. Blaine traded a look with Noah, a frown on both their faces. "That's a very nice story, Beth." Blaine said slowly, swallowing and moving to stand up, but her small hand latched onto his arm and kept him place, her blue eyes wide and begging.
"Please! You have to believe me! You two are the only two who can save everyone from the evil queen." She stressed and Noah had the feeling that she was actually believing what she was talking about. And, for some reason, that was both terrifying and adorable.
Blaine looked at her for a moment longer, a gentle smile transforming his features and Noah was suddenly reminded of all those acting classes and plays Blaine regularly found himself in. "Of course I believe you, sweetie." Noah looked at him disbelief, gaping for a moment before frowning. "I just have to go into the kitchen to check on the coffee and call your mother. Do you have a number where I can reach her?"
Beth's eyes took on a panicked look and she stuttered out an answer. "N-no. Well yes, but-but please don't c-call her. She'll be so mad!"
Blaine frowned, looking up at Noah with wide eyes and yes, Noah guessed this was his area of specialty now. After all, he was the police officer. "Your mom doesn't know you're here does she?"
Beth swallowed, her brown eyes starting to water and her lower lip trembling. Noah's heart tugged in response to the classing 'puppy dog eyes' that Blaine had used so many times – that his sister had used so many times – that he had used so many times. "N-no. She wouldn't agree with me meeting you."
"How did you get here?" Blaine's voice held a twinge of panic and Noah halted his overreaction by a hand on top of his own and a nod to the kitchen where the coffee maker was dinging for attention.
Noah kissed his cheek when he stood up, his hand lingering in his own as Blaine walked away before he fell into the seat he had occupied before. "How did you get here, Beth?"
"A train."
"You took a train." Noah ran a hand down his face. "Where do you live?"
"Please don't bring me home until the end of the school day! She won't even know I'm gone!"
"Where do you live, Bethany?" And there Noah went, his tone stern and fatherly. He hadn't even realized that he remembered her full name he had referred to her as 'Beth' so many times in dreams and memories.
A few tears escaped out of the corner of Beth's brown eyes, sliding down her cheeks around the same time Blaine exited the kitchen, two coffee mugs clutched in his hands. He handed one to Noah, frowning when he caught the tear streaks down Beth's face and sitting on the arm of the couch with a calculating look. "Sweetie you're not going to be in trouble with us. We just want to get you home. I'm sure your mother's worrying a ton." He wrinkled his nose at her and Noah thought, not for the first time, about what Blaine would be like as a father. A great father most likely. The kind who would get down on hands and knees to play with the child, no matter how old he was. The kind who would sing them to sleep every night, the kind who would write them their own lullaby and have around ten songs dedicated to them a year. He'd parade them around as though they were the most beautiful thing in the world.
Noah shook himself out of his thoughts before the entered dangerous territories. The fact that he had been in a relationship for three years was shocking enough. He didn't need – nor did he want – to add children into that equation. Not yet.
Beth stared at them a moment longer before swiping under her eyes to wipe away the tears and sniffling. "Marion."
Noah stiffened.
Blaine nearly choked on his coffee. The mug he was holding would have crashed to the floor if Noah hadn't turned around in time to catch it, some of the hot liquid falling onto his hand in the process. He hissed before turning his eyes onto Blaine, noting his wide hazel eyes and shocked expression.
Because Blaine was from Marion.
"I could do this all day." The Prince paced in front of the thief, his boots slapping against the floor before he sighed and looked down at the prisoner before him. No. He couldn't do this all day. And being tough and hard around the edges was getting him nowhere so far. So far he had no answers about why he felt connected to him. Which was the whole damn reason he had called him in in the first place.
The Prince scratched at the back of his neck before kneeling down in front of him again, tugging the ring of keys off his belt and finding the one to unlock the thief's chains easily enough. He placed the key in the whole, turning it and watching as the metal clanged to the floor. The thief looked up at him uneasily but calculatingly. His hazel stare was almost too much and, for some reason, the Prince almost felt like blushing. More than that, though. He felt as though he owed this thief some sort of explanation. "I won't do any of those things." He sighed, sitting down in his throne and letting his head fall into his hands.
They sat in silence for a long time and the Prince was sure it was a lost cause. He was ready to call back in the guards when he heard a voice that made his heart stop. For once he was not the only one talking. "What makes me any different?" It was soft, yet it was precise. It held prestige and wealth. It sounded a big northern, like a different dialect than the Prince was used to hearing. And, indeed, he had not heard that dialect in a full year, ever since he had been moved into the castle to live and serve with his father as Prince to a land he did not willingly rule over.
He was confused for a moment before almost being insulted. "What?"
It must have shown in his voice, but the prisoner made no move to apologize. "If I were any other prisoner you would have done no more than leave them chained up and executed. You would have done all of what you had threatened. So what makes me any different from any other prisoner?"
The Prince stared at him for a moment longer, holding his gaze before looking away. "I don't know."
"Then you're not very kingly are you?" The thief rolled his eyes and the Prince had the feeling that he was being teased. He frowned, glancing over at the prisoner for a moment and noting his protective stance, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed at the floor in what the Prince could only place as contempt. He wasn't happy with the Prince. He wasn't happy with him at all.
"My name's Noah. What's yours?" It was a split second decision and it wasn't one that the Prince really had wanted to make. He didn't just go around telling people his name, his 'wife' didn't even refer to him by his given name.
"Why are you telling me this?" The thief looked up at him what the Prince could only place as amazement, a frown on his face, as though he were waiting for the catch. To be honest, the Prince was waiting for one too.
"There's just... you're interesting."
"So I'm your new toy? Lucky me."
"No." The Prince shook his head slowly, turning to look out the window before turning back to the prisoner, a frown of thought on his face. "There's just something about you."
"People have said that before." The thief shrugged at him. "It's called the 'con man persona'. Or so I've heard."
"It's not that." The guards pounded against the door, yelling at him that the King and the Prince's 'wife' were back. A brief fear laced in his stomach as they banged once more. Soon they were bound to get restless and walk into the room unannounced. Then where would the Prince be? With an unchained thief. That would not go well for either of them.
He knelt down, picking up the chains and walking over to the thief. The prisoner was standing now and he was shorter than the Prince, but not as short as his 'wife' was so that it was almost uncomfortable. This close he had beautifully long lashes and the Prince had to resist the urge to do something he would most likely regret later that day. He placed the chains back on the thief's wrists, his curious gaze burning into the Prince's face. They were only a few inches apart and, as the Prince locked them around the limbs tight enough that they wouldn't fall off, but not as tight as the guards had placed them before, the thief leaned up on his tip toes, his breath brushing against the Prince's cheek as his lips strayed near his ear. The Prince stiffened, holding onto his wrists in case he tried anything. But nothing was tried, just a simple word was whispered into his ear. "Warbler."
"What?" The Prince tried to keep him from moving backwards but the prisoner still made it back a few steps before the door opened and the guards walked in, apologizing for how long it took them.
"It's what you can call me."
"I haven't been to Marion in years." Blaine commented softly in the passenger seat of Noah's car, his head leaning against the window as the scenery passed them by. Marion wasn't too far away, but his dislike was understandable. Noah had heard the tales of what had happened to his partner in Marion and he was no happier than him to be going back to that place. He would rather avoid it all costs. But he had needed to get Beth home quickly and Blaine was the only one of them that definitely knew the route there.
Beth sat quietly in the backseat, singing almost inaudibly to the music on the radio, her book open on her lap and her brown eyes soaking in the words on the pages. Noah glanced back at her through the rear view mirror, trying to ignore the surge of affection.
He could imagine the two of them – Noah and Blaine – in two time, maybe even more than two years, with a child of their own sitting in the backseat. And, of course, they'd be singing along to the radio because Blaine was their father, and of course they'd be singing along to classic rock like Van Halen or Queen because Noah was their father. They'd look back at him or her and smile at them and they'd return the gesture and...
There Noah went again. Planning their future like some love sick woman. He rolled his eyes at himself, pulling up to a stop light and reaching over for Blaine's hand, happy when it slid easily into his own and he rested their linked hands over the console in the middle of the car.
Blaine didn't look too good. But, once again, Noah couldn't really blame him. It was obvious that even though Blaine had friends in Marion he didn't particularly want to go back.
1.5 miles to Marion. A sign on the right read in the classing blue type.
"Okay, we're going to drop you off and maybe talk to your mom about how you ran away and then we're going to head back home." Noah said for about the tenth time when they pulled into the small town. It was quaint and homely. It was exactly as Blaine had described to him before.
Beth looked up at him with wide eyes. "You can't! You need to save everyone from the curse!"
"Beth, please." Blaine sounded exhausted, his hazel eyes struck with a tired film and his head resting in his unoccupied hand. Noah had a feeling that bringing him here really hadn't been his smartest idea. "Noah has work he has to get back to and we left all our stuff at home. I'm sure Noah would like to visit sometime but we have to make sure that it's okay with your mother."
"No one leaves Marion!" She insisted, her voice taking on a sort of panicked tone. "You can't try to leave! Something will happen and you'll get hurt."
"Which house is yours?" Noah ignore her frantic voice, happy when she sat back in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest and a pout on her lips, her eyes watering again. Of course Noah had to be the father of a drama queen. What other way would it have been?
"That one." She pointed dejectedly to a tall white building and Blaine sat up straighter for a moment, his hazel eyes wide in shock yet again.
"Your mother is the mayor?"
A: N – Annnd there's chapter two. :D This is basically going to be the set up for all the next chapters until I decide to change it. Sound good to you? Good.