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Jean can feel the intruder’s hesitation at the edge of his glade. One booted foot hovers uncertainly over an untouched patch of grass and Jean licks behind pointed teeth. One more step. Take one more. He urges, extending his will out into the glade. Fresh fragrance wafts from nearby flowers, something pleasant and light. They straighten with the next sway of the wind, petals stretching as though each plant is now in full bloom. From across the glade, Jean can hear the man’s quiet exhale. His foot touches the ground.
Mine. He watches with hunger as the man fully enters the glade, looking around quizzically like he’s trying to find what called him here. His curiosity is intriguing. Most humans would look nervous and uncertain, taking a step into the glade and then hightailing it out of there once they felt the subtle buzz of magic caress their skin. But not this human. The short-haired blond merely rubs the back of his neck and continues walking, following the gentle tug of magic until he’s only a few feet from Jean’s fairy ring.
Got you! Grinning, Jean snaps his fingers and materializes from thin air in the midst of the circle of mushrooms. People often consider it a portal to another world, something created by the fairies that will transport people. They’re not entirely wrong. What they don’t know is that it’s nature’s way of fighting back, a way it’s learned to contain their wild magic down to a singular point. A portal, sure, but also a prison. One that Jean will never be able to escape without outside interference, but he’s made his peace with that.
Golden eyes that remind him of a burning sunset snap to his face and he smiles, careful not to reveal his pointed teeth. “My,” he croons, “aren’t you a pretty one?” It’s been a few hundred years since he’s seen a man this rugged enter the forest.
“You’re fae.” The man murmurs, his voice low and rich. The very timbers of it send a shiver down Jean’s spine.
“Observant, aren’t you?” He flashes his fangs and the man doesn’t flinch. Brave? Or maybe just stupid. “What’s a lost lamb like you doing all the way out here?”
“Clearing my head.” The man lifts a hand and scratches at the back of his neck. “Your magic, I take it?” His free hand gestures at the entire glade and Jean nods, flicking his fingers outward. Around them, fireflies appear and light up the glade and produce quite the dazzling spectacle as they weave around his flowers and truly make them shine.
“How’d you guess?” Jean’s curiosity gets the better of him and his head tilts. The man raises a single eyebrow and Jean snorts, nodding his head as he lowers his hand back down. “Fair enough. What’s your name, traveler?” He aims for casual, but he must miss the mark. The man’s brows pinch together and his mouth tilts down into a frown. Pity.
“Names are sacred.” He says, a repetition of the rules instilled in the ones who still believe in magic and the world that’s hiding behind the multitude of veils.
“They are,” he agrees, “but I won’t do anything with yours. I won’t steal it.” Stealing identities is a parlor trick and Jean hasn’t practiced those arts in at least a century. Living in the human world gets boring after so many years. He doesn’t know how they live entire lifetimes in a stagnant world. “You can trust me,” he grins.
“Pass.” The man’s mouth twitches into a smile and fades just as quick. Disappointing, he thinks, when the man is so beautiful.
“I’d tell you my name, but you’ll use it to report me.” With a heavy sigh, Jean sinks down into a crouch and loops his arms around his knees. It’s not that a human government can really do anything, but whispers travel fast in the human world these days. People will learn Jean’s name and come seeking him, or perhaps torch his glade to the ground, and then where would he be? Trapped in the fae realm until he could grow a new spot. “So why are you out here wandering the wilderness?” He lifts an eyebrow and the man hesitates only a brief moment before taking a seat criss-cross across from him.
“Family trouble.”
“…care to elaborate?” He arcs an eyebrow and makes a show of sitting down, stretching his legs out until they brush the edge of the circle. It’s too fucking small and he feels warning bells bursting near his skin, reminders that he cannot breach containment. If he crosses the line, he’ll turn to dust. Fucking bullshit.
“My mother and I don’t get along.” The man frowns at the mention of her and Jean bares his teeth, hating the look. “Sometimes I wish I could just disappear.”
“Well, I can help with that.” Winking, he gestures at the ring around him and smirks. “Take one step in here and I’ll show you a good time.” Pink splotches appear on the man’s cheeks and he giggles to himself, pleased. “I could steal you away forever, you know. All I need is your name.”
“Forever is a long, long time.” The man drags a hand over his face. “You’d get sick of me pretty quick.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m very good at keeping myself entertained.” He sniffs. “You’re very hot.”
“You’d be the first to think that.” Snorting, the man shakes his head a little.
“That’s bullshit.” He says bluntly. “Have you seen yourself? I’m pretty sure there’s a body of water nearby. You should investigate.”
The man laughs, quiet and mirthful, and the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “That so?” He lifts soft golden eyes and Jean nods, licking behind his teeth.
“That so.” He says. “If you ever need a reminder, you come back here and I’ll tell you.”
“You’re just going to let me walk away?” An eyebrow lifts at him and Jean snorts.
“Can’t exactly walk out of this circle and drag you back to my realm. Besides,” he says cheerfully, “it’s much more fun when you humans want to come along.”
“Have you taken many?”
Jean ponders the question. Technically, he’s taken no more than a dozen. People who wanted to come with him. People desperate to escape their lives, although there was the one red-headed fool that had been an arrogant son of a bitch and Jean had taken great pleasure drowning him less than three days after his arrival. All of the fae are different though, but he doesn’t expect the stranger to understand that concept.
“No,” he finally admits, “but that’s how I got my best friend a couple of centuries ago.”
“Best friend?”
“Yeah. He was a soldier in one of your stupid wars. He didn’t mean to stumble across my glade, but the enemy…they were going to kill him. I found him before they could and offered him another way out. He took it.” Fondness curls around him as he thinks of beautifully freckled Marco and his presence that rivals the sun.
“And this friend…is still alive?”
“Yes. Humans don’t…you don’t age the same over there. At most, he’s gained a couple of gray hairs. Although,” Jean sighs, “you can choose to keep aging. That option is a lot less fun though.” He’s lost most of his humans to death that way and the thought makes his chest ache fiercely. Marco’s the only one who has been steadfast at his side after all these years. And, as much as Jean is loath to admit it, he’s become a somewhat reliable moral compass to Jean.
“Is your friend still enjoying himself? Doesn’t he miss life here?” The stranger asks.
“Sometimes, I think. But he…I think he’s happier with me.” Frowning at the thought of Marco being unhappy, Jean rubs the heel of his palm against his chest. “I give him everything he needs. If he wanted to come back here…” It would break Jean’s heart into pieces, but he would open the path and let Marco slip through. “He wouldn’t know what to do in your new world.”
“It sounds like you care about him a great deal.”
“He’s my best friend.” Irritation makes Jean grind his teeth, sharp incisors poking along his bottom lip. “You’re annoying.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.” Flashing a grim smile, the man starts to rise to his feet. Jean scrambles to match him, refusing to be on uneven ground. It’s a small thing, but he never wants a human to think that he’s beneath them. They’re the ones that lost touch with the magic.
“Leaving so soon?” He asks, tilting his head. “My offer still stands. Your name and I’ll make all of your problems disappear.”
“Tempting.” He thinks the man is considering saying yes, but something seems to be holding him back. Fear of the unknown?
“I meant what I said. You’re handsome and I wouldn’t mind spending some quality time getting to learn every inch of you.” His sharp smile veers into lecherous territory, but the stranger only laughs and rose colors his cheeks again. “Next time then.” He offers with a shrug. Golden eyes go wide.
“Will you be here again?”
“This is my glade. I’m the only one that will be here.” Jean assures him. This magic is connected to his home in the fae realm. If another fae tries to access it, they’ll be in for a nasty surprise. “Come back and I’ll be here.” He says, softening his smile. “Escape or an exciting love connection. Your choice.”
“A tryst with you might get me killed.” The man points out, looking far too amused. Jean likes him even more.
“You’ll never find out unless you give me a chance.” He blows a kiss, winking, and feels a sharp tug beyond the fairy circle. “Gotta go, handsome. I can’t wait to see you again.”
“You’ll be here?”
“If I’m not, wait for me. I won’t be long.” It’s a promise he can’t truly make, but it’s worth it to see the man’s cautious smile bloom into something real.
“It’s a date.”
-
For three weeks, like clockwork, the stranger returns to the glade near sundown. Every time he visits, Jean gets the sense that he’s shedding the weight of the outside world the moment he enters the glade. His eyes brighten despite the heavy bags that are under them and his spine loosens. He sits closer now, right up against the fairy ring, and Jean burns with the need to touch him. This close, he swears he sees subtle flecks of hazel in those gentle golden eyes. Twice now, he’s fallen asleep in the glade listening to Jean try to lure him to step into the fairy ring. It’s astonishing to see how easily he trusts Jean not to hurt him. Those nights, Jean stands guard and warns predators from his glade so the blond can get his few precious hours of sleep. He tosses and turns in intervals, whispering things that Jean doesn’t understand, but he never presses for an answer. Human nightmares are beyond his field of understanding.
He still doesn’t have a name. At this point, he’s not sure he will ever get one. It doesn’t piss him off as much as it once would. Humans and their complex emotions and strange attachments to their families seem to be what’s tying him here. A cousin, he thinks he remembers the stranger mention. The only family that matters to him. When he reveals too much, a childhood nickname spilling from his lips, he freezes for a heartstopping moment and looks at Jean in horror. Back then, all he’d done was shrug and say it didn’t count since it wasn’t her given name. That wasn’t entirely true, but Jean has no interest in taking a child to the fae realm. Instead, he’d used her name on whispers of the wind and sprouted flowers in her every footstep while she’d played a game in her yard. The stranger had come back the next day and thrown a gentle accusation, but Jean had only shrugged and pretended he didn’t know what he meant.
Evening comes as always and Jean materializes in the fairy ring, sitting himself down as he patiently waits for his favorite visitor. When the familiar tingles of magic lick over his skin, he sends out his usual calming spell to the rest of the glade and waits for his human to appear. There’s something different about his footsteps today. They’re heavier than they have any right to be. Gnashing his fangs, he waits with growing impatience until he spies the stranger stepping from the trees.
“What,” he hisses lowly, “happened to you?”
Blue and purple bruises decorate the stranger’s face. He walks with a limp, an arm wrapped around his torso. He doesn’t speak at first, but when he’s close enough Jean realizes that he’s carrying something. A heavy brown satchel hits the ground at his feet. Pained eyes flit to his face and he watches as the man swallows and opens his mouth, looking utterly lost. He’s still so young.
“Just tell me your name,” Jean pleads. He presses up against the invisible boundary, nature pressing back against his wild magic, and he bares his teeth. “Set me free. Destroy this ring and I’ll bring havoc down on them all.”
“You never said that was possible.” The man smiles weakly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Violence flashes through Jean like a thunderstorm, unruly and dark.
“I don’t like to walk through your world. I’ll do it if it means I get to destroy whoever touched you.” He hisses. “You’re mine.” It’s been his thought from the first moment the man entered his glade. He’d never said as much, the concept of claiming aloud needed a name, but he’d felt it with every fiber of his being. That had to count for something.
“They’re not worth it.” The man shakes his head and presses the heels of both palms to his eyes, exhaling shakily. “I’m not even sure what I’m doing here.”
“You know why you came.” Jean snaps, temper flaring up as the itch flares under his skin. He hasn't wanted to kill a human this badly before, not since the soldiers that were hunting Marco and he’d had no choice in the matter. It should terrify him, but it feels exhilarating. If he were set free, he could hunt down those who dared to lay a hand on what belongs to him.
“Why a name?”
“…what?” He blinks, taken aback, and huffs as he rocks back on his heels.
“Why,” the man exhales and drops his hands from his face, “do you need a name?”
“They’re powerful. They…your name is the very essence of who you are.” He licks behind sharp teeth and runs a hand back through his hair, tugging at the strands harder than necessary. He’s never been asked such a stupid question. “Aren’t names important for you humans?”
“I guess. It’s binding like a contract.” The man offers a half-smile. “But people change their names these days. Doesn’t that shift things for you?”
“I don’t know! I don’t take humans the way my brethren do.” Jean snarls, unhappy this is taking so long. Why is this bastard so damn resistant? He’s here with a bag and a purpose. All he has to do is close the distance and he’ll be in Jean’s arms and under the protection of the fae realm, safe from whatever untold horrors the human world currently holds for him. “Who did this to you? Break the ring or give me their names. I’ll make them pay.” He promises, the flowers closest to them withering and shrinking under the influence of his rage.
“If I give you their names, you’d kill them.”
“I’m not that powerful anymore. I’d make them pay for touching you.” He hisses through his teeth, itching to pace the confines of the cage around him. It’s too fucking small for that though and his anger leaps higher. “Poison their water supply. Kill their crops.”
“These people aren’t farmers anymore.” The stranger chuckles and Jean’s heart beats impossibly fast.
“Tell me your name,” he pleads again. It’s a broken and ugly sound, but the stranger’s eyes widen.
“You’re begging?”
“I need to touch you.” He insists, curling his sharpened nails down into the grooves of his palms. “You’re hurt and I can’t do a fucking thing about it from in here. So either you come to me or I come to you.” He steps forward, a threat and a promise, and the stranger holds both hands up quickly.
“You said that would turn you to dust.”
“TELL ME YOUR NAME!” The ground rattles, flowers wilting, and the grass dies around the fairy ring. A chilling wind cuts through the glade and the stranger hunches in on himself, shivering. Jean feels a sharp tug in his gut and snatches his hand back from the barrier, breathing hard as his skin tingles in warning. Too close. Too fucking close. His ears ring with his anger and he takes a sharp breath, trying to collect himself.
Outside the fairy circle, his human exhales. He bends down slowly, fingers curling in the leather strap of his bag, and Jean’s hit with the awful realization that he’s finally ruined this. The man will collect his bag, take his leave, and Jean will never see him again. It’s a sobering moment and his anger shifts at once, curling inward until poisoned thoughts are leeching through his skin.
“Don’t go.” He pleads weakly. Startled golden eyes flit to his face and Jean drags a hand over his face, scowling. “I know that I’m the monster your people warn you to stay away from. But you’re mine and you can’t leave me.”
“I’ve been yours since I walked into the glade.”
“…what?” He watches, holding his breath as the man moves a foot into the fairy ring. He doesn’t dare reach for him, letting the man step fully into the ring. The moment they’re chest to chest, he offers another smile. This one reaches his eyes and Jean’s breath leaves him in a heavy rush.
“I’ve belonged to you since that first day. You cared about my wellbeing and offered me a way out. At this point, I don’t even care if you’re trying to trick me.”
“I’m not,” Jean insists. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I know that now.” The man reaches up and curls a hand around Jean’s cheek, softly brushing his thumb over his skin. When he leans in, Jean closes his eyes. The rush of air makes him feel giddy.
Reiner tastes divine on his tongue.