marlowemuses | A cruel reality when you've had too much to dream

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A cruel reality when you've had too much to dream

On most days, Adam thought he knew all there was to know about himself. He had studied his skin and the capabilities of his muscles. He had interrogated every thought inside his own mind. He knew the depth of his capacity for exhaustion, and how much he could do on how little sleep.

He did not know, on the afternoon of the prince's eighteenth birthday, that over the course of the day things had been learned about him, through spell and revelation, that he did not know about himself.

Adam knew that there were celebrations throughout the kingdom for the prince, but Adam had no time for them. He had the day off of work at the shipyards, but that only meant that he had time to catch up on his chores at home, which would allow him some time to catch up on his studies. He knew that the royal family was magic. A fairy king and his family, and the middle son, the magic son, who would inherit everything. He knew, esoterically, that the fairy-dreamer kings of their realm took magic consorts who aided and increased their power.

Adam had no interest in any of it. This was mostly due to self-preservation for his pride and his heart. He knew he was not magic and did not belong in that world. Nothing he could do would ever produce an aptitude for that kind of magic. So he forbade himself from wanting it.

And if, in the months since his own birthday, he'd found lost things easier and broken things were more swiftly fixed by his hands, he attributed it only to his own intelligence and aptitude. If the weather suited itself to his mood and the flowers grew around his parents' house in a riotous profusion that he'd never seen before, Adam thought little of any of it. All these things had logical explanations, or they were mere coincidences.

He did not know that the king had cast a spell for his son, and his face had appeared in a basin of water, and a map had glowed to mark his home and the back field where Adam was hard at work repairing a broken fence.

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Ronan stared at him in confusion. That hadn't happened before, not unless he was talking to his brothers. With them, he could fight back, but not here. Ronan didn't pick fights with strangers. He didn't lead. He told people what he wanted and they didn't. Now was the exception to one of the unspoken rules in his life.

"Or you can stay here," he said, still taken aback. He rubbed his fingers together idly, then forced himself to be still again. It lasted for a few moments because most of his mind was focused on what the hell he was supposed to do now. It wasn't like he was going to drag Adam kicking and screaming back to his home.

"Fine," Adam said, sharp and stubborn. Prince or no, Adam wasn't going anywhere just because some authority figure snapped his fingers. He set his stance a little more solidly and stared at the prince, waiting for him to leave.

Ronan stared at Adam, waiting for him to say it was a joke or he'd changed his mind. Nothing happened.

"You don't want to?" he asked slowly. "You'll be helping me rule. You do understand what it means to be a magician?"

There were a lot of feelings flowing one into the other right now and Ronan couldn't separate them all. Right now, confusion still dominated.

"I'm not," Adam said, showing the prince his plain, dirty, calloused, magic-less hands.

He was tempted by helping me rule, if that was true. Being handed half the kingdom was a heady gift, and Adam could understand why Ronan was so surprised. It was probably rare for anyone to turn down an offer like that. But Adam didn't believe that he was being offered a position as an equal. He wasn't that naive.

"And I'm not going to abandon everything I've worked to achieve just to play your royal babysitter."

Ronan's mood changed in a moment. Anger flashed across his eyes. His jaw set and he glared at Adam.

"I am not a child. Stay here and rule dirt for all I care." He turned away then. He clenched his hands into fists and stormed the rest of the way back.

Forget that. He didn't need a magician. And pretty or not, he didn't need Adam.

When anyone asked him how it went, all they got was a glare. It'd take a while for his father to get the truth out of him.

Adam berated himself over it for two days. Pride or no, he had been offered an opportunity. He could make something of himself with an opportunity like that. And if the prince was right, if it was real, if he had some capacity for magic...

Every free moment he had, Adam tried to do magic. He tried to make plants grow, tried to call water from a rock, tried to change a spoon into gold. None of it worked. He felt as ordinary as ever, and his regrets didn't matter. By now they would have figured out the mistake. Adam had just saved them all a great deal of embarrassment and inconvenience.

So he wasn't expecting anything when he was called away from his work at the shipyard and into his supervisor's office. He certainly wasn't expecting to find his supervisor not in the office, but instead a strange man, older but still handsome, with a powerfully magnetic demeanor. Adam stopped in the doorway, regarding the stranger warily.

The resemblance between father and son was strong. Sometimes, it was like peering into a mirror of Niall's past, with only subtle changes to mark the fact that Ronan was his heir and not himself. But he was the future. Niall was not only the present but its ruler. He was not inexperienced with those who would defy him and he would not allow it to continue. But only a fool thought an order would work on everyone.

"Forgive me. A surprise is not always the best way to introduce oneself, but it does make an impression. My name is Niall. I've been expecting you," he said smoothly. He smiled, warm and welcoming, and waved his hand to invite Adam further inside. "I've spoken with your supervisor. He told me, 'Adam Parrish, now that's a hard worker. Clever too, more than his own good.' I've always liked that line, 'more than his own good.' Some of the best stories I've heard begin with that."

Adam's pulse fluttered in his throat, choking him for a moment. People didn't look at him like this. People didn't speak to him--or of him--like this. It was true, though, that he was too clever for his own good, and a hard worker, and his supervisor knew it.

The rare praise and the acknowledgement of Adam's skills and accomplishments drew Adam forward a step, mind tripping over the fact even as he made the connection--Niall, King Niall.

"I'm not a magician," Adam told him, because no matter how he might appreciate the acknowledgement, Adam wasn't about to let this continue under false pretenses.

Niall laughed. "No, you are not. No great story starts with a master. It is up to the boy to choose what sort of man he will be and what story they will tell of him. Worker, student, magician, there are many paths you can take. None of them will be easy. A magician's job isn't, I won't pretend it is." He laughed again. "Just ask my wife." He paused, assessing Adam.

"But you, you have the natural inclination for it. How many things have happened to you that you struggled to explain? So few people have your ability. It's your choice to waste them, but it would be a shame. Your story would end as your supervisor tells it. A hard worker and clever, but nothing more. So... what holds you back?"

Adam's heart thudded in his throat as the king talked. Student. Either Niall had done his research or his supervisor had mentioned it.

It was true that his luck had been... better lately. Small things inexplicably bending in Adam's favor. Rainstorms held off until the moment he stepped under shelter. Lost items always turned up in the first place Adam looked for them.

"I won't be someone else's pawn or plaything," Adam told the king, lifting his chin proudly despite the nerves he felt. Mouthing off to the prince was one thing. At least Ronan was his own age and inexperienced. Defying the king was another thing entirely. "Whatever I become, it will be on my own terms."

"Who gave you the idea that a magician is a pawn?" It was a rhetorical question. Either Adam was making assumptions founded on what little information he had or Ronan had said something with unfortunate implications.

He waved his hand as though brushing Adam's concerns aside. "You'll be no one's pawn," he lied easily. The truth was, he had nothing to fear from Ronan. But Niall was not as noble minded as his son. He found it both worrying and comforting.

"You don't even have to see Ronan," he lied again because he couldn't have his son sulking all day.

The king was much harder to dismiss or dissuade. Not simply because of his authority, but also for the persuasive way he spoke. Adam had lost track of his reasons to object.

“What is it exactly that you’re asking of me?” Adam chose to frame it that way in his mind, finding it easier to face the idea of the king asking something than of Adam being given so much unearned. It wasn’t charity if Adam had an important job, something real, something only he could do.

"That you learn how to use your talents. Become a magician. You may live in the castle or travel there. It's your choice." He paused until he judged enough time had passed. "What will it be?"

That answered one of Adam's biggest questions, about whether he could leave whenever he wished. He'd have to figure out how to fit this new thing into his life, and it would probably have to replace his studies. He'd receive magician training for free, and in return he would offer some amount of those services to the crown. The walk from his parents' home to the castle was long, but manageable. If he wasn't paying for his studies, he could cut back his hours at the shipyard. He could make it work.

Tentative, Adam nodded. If it turned out he had no aptitude for it, he'd be right back where he was now.

Niall returned to the castle victorious. He told his son the good news, which didn't exactly cheer the prince up. Niall had a way with people that Ronan did not. He'd never minded it until now, when he'd failed so horribly and had to have his father bail him out.

Feeling unwanted wasn't entirely foreign to Ronan. There was a reason he didn't have many friends, but it'd never really mattered before. Or it had, but he was able to dismiss it. This time was not so easy.

While he was generally a forgiving person, he found this rejection hard to brush aside. So he was not happy to step outside one day, hoping to enjoy a walk with only himself for company, and finding Adam there instead. Being shown around. Good for him.

He folded his arms and stood back, watching from a distance and waiting for him to go away.

Adam was awed by it all, and the things that they kept insisting were his. Rooms reserved for his use, fine clothing that he was expected to wear at any formal functions that he chose to attend, a study filled with books. All of it was presented as his, waiting for him, which made it harder to refuse. None of it was a gift, it was simply already his, and had simply been waiting for him to claim it. A whole life ready for him to take his place in it.

When he saw Ronan, his attention lingered, and he stopped. The steward showing him around was still talking, but Adam didn't hear any of it. So the prince was angry with him. Or at least sulking. Adam was not a peacemaker by nature, so he simply stayed where he was, watching the prince in return.

Ronan's jaw clenched when he saw Adam stare at him. He didn't even move away or continue whatever tour he was on. Well, let him stare. Ronan wasn't moving. If Adam wanted to start shit then that was his prerogative. Ronan wasn't about to back down. He came for a walk and he'd go on his fucking walk by himself.

As always.

It was the steward who broke their standoff simply by noticing it. "Ah, the prince!" he said, in a bright, optimistic tone like he was dealing with kindergartners. "Perhaps I should give you two a moment to make friends."

The suggestion was so utterly tone-deaf as to the nature of their standoff that Adam couldn't help but find it comedic. His head turned toward the steward, lips quirked slightly in amused disbelief.

A muscle in Ronan's jaw twitched but he didn't move other than that. "It would take more than that. You should finish your tour first. I won't keep you."

"Oh, nonsense!" The steward insisted. He patted Ronan's arm, bold enough to do so simply from how known they'd long each other-- and the fact that of the three princes, Declan was the only one who demanded formality. "Don't worry. I'll be back in two moments."

Ronan thought he'd die of second hand embarrassment. It was a thought that the steward usually instilled in him.

"I hope I have your word," he said, his voice sounding very much like he was attempting to strangle himself with his own vocal chords. If such a thing were possible, Ronan wanted to be the first to discover it.

Adam bit down on his lower lip in a very valiant effort to keep from smiling when the steward patted the tall, intimidating, scowling prince on the arm like that. And then the steward was gone, abandoning the two of them together in the garden. Adam looked in the direction he'd gone, perplexed but somewhat delighted that this was the sort of thing that now happened in his life. People conspiring to get him befriended by a prince.

"I don't think you have his word," Adam said, wryly sympathetic.

"It wouldn't matter if I did. He'll tell me when he said two moments I should have known he meant two hours." He suppressed a sigh.

Now if he left to go on his walk, he'd look like an ass. Maybe that was part of the steward's plan too.

Ronan looked down the path. "You can continue your tour or whatever it is. Just tell him I insulted you again."

He didn't want to be around someone who didn't want him in the first place. He wasn't desperate enough to bat his eyelashes in the hopes of a second chance. Adam made his choice. Then he made another one. Ronan wanted nothing to do with it.

Adam studies him, considering the offered out but deciding not to take it. He's too intrigued by Ronan at the moment. The tour can wait.

"Your father is very persuasive," Adam comments. Ronan's so handsome that it hurts a little to look at him. He's something too fantastical to be real. A fairy prince, lovely and powerful. And everyone has the insane delusion that Adam belongs at his side, as if that will have any other result than making Adam look like a fool. "Though perhaps not completely honest."

Ronan did his best to avoid looking at Adam but he kept glancing back at him. There was something about the way he stared at him that he found unnerving. At least, he thought that was the feeling.

"He tells me that's why I'm not as persuasive." Ronan didn't think his father meant it unkindly. It was simply a fact. "Are you regretting this yet?"

Adam's puzzled by the question, gaze becoming a little sharper as he considers the reasons he might regret this. "No." He'd already known better than to believe Niall's promise that he wouldn't have to see Ronan, so this isn't a disappointment. Besides which, Adam's intrigued, and he has reason to believe that he might get better answers out of Ronan than he has out of Niall or the servants. "Can you do magic?"

It was Ronan's turn to be puzzled, enough that he stopped trying to look away and actually stared at Adam. "Of course." He thought everyone knew that. Then he switched from surprised to defensive. "Just because it's not the same as yours doesn't mean I can't do it."

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