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Title: Once Upon a Time
Summary: Turns out, the man really was a dragon and the boy truly was magical. Julian x Oscar.
Sorry, unbeta'd.
Once upon a time – for wasn’t that how all great stories started? – in a country far, far away in a time long, long ago. Though, it wasn’t actually that long ago that this story transpired, it just felt like it was. There were no dinosaurs but the wheel had been invented, and there were barely any televisions and iPhones were not even a dream at that time.
The boy was said to possess the power to change species, to control the weather and bring chaos to the world they knew of. There were countless of tales about the evil boy and no one seemed to realize that most of them were impossible for an eight-year old boy – even if he might have magic.
These were the kind of stories that Oscar grew up with. Being the son of the village leader he had been raised to be courageous and fair and everything else that would make him a great heir to as the position as the village leader. And because Oscar had grown up to be courageous and fair and because of the stubbornness which he had inherited from the mother he never knew, Oscar was more fascinated by the stories of the boy than anything else.
So, one day, Oscar went up to hut to see the boy and the man-dragon.
The road up there were tedious but the moment Oscar peaked from behind a bush at the small boy running around the garden outside the hut, collecting flowers Oscar had never seen before for the old man, Oscar decided that it was worth it.
The boy truly was magical with his dark hair and pale skin. He reminded Oscar of the porcelain dolls his mother used to collect and now stood gathering dust by the fireplace. Though, Oscar decided that the boy wasn’t as creepy as the dolls. Okay, wasn’t nearly as creepy – those big eyes that he could see even from the distance that they were fully white were a bit unnerving.
But not in a bad way; more like the time when Oscar used to think broccoli tasted funny but now he actually loves them.
Oscar continued to watch the boy for weeks, refusing to call himself a stalker or a creep – words he had heard the woman in the village call that his grandpa, Albert, who had no eyebrows when he had watched them dress through a window at night.
It wasn’t until after a month of stalking – or observing, as Oscar preferred to call it – that Oscar learnt about the little boy’s name. The old man always called him ‘boy’ so when the little boy walked up to where Oscar was sitting behind the same bush as always and asked him how long he was going to hide, Oscar finally found out.
Surprised, Oscar asked how he knew Oscar was there.
‘’I could see you glowing when from the first day you started watching me.’’
‘’I don’t glow.’’ Oscar said, suddenly feeling angry – or maybe just embarrassed. Oscar wasn’t sure – as he looked down on his bruised and band-aided skin.
‘’Idiot.’’ The little boy laughed. ’’Not your skin. You.’’
Oscar was confused but smiled anyway. ’’Oh. I’m Oscar.’’
’’Hi Oscar. My name is Julian. Do you want to be friends?’’
Oscar didn’t have to think about the question as his father always told him to do. He had watched Julian for weeks and found out small things about him such as how he always plucks new flowers for the old man each morning, and how he had healed an ugly crow and then given it a burial when a stoat had killed it. Now - now that Oscar finally knew Julian’s name, Oscar wanted to know more about him.
‘’Yes please.’’
Julian flashed him the brightest smile Oscar had ever seen and Oscar then, at that moment, made it his life mission to see it as often as possible.
For years they played together in Julian’s garden. The villagers feared their relationship but didn’t dare tell the village leader because even if they feared the moment he really would find out, they feared taking away the magic boy’s only friend even more. And thus, every day after school, Oscar would come up to Julian and the old man – who, as it turned out, really was a dragon – and play and tell Julian all about what he’d learnt during the day and Julian would show him his latest magic trick before they went on and did what they did every other day. They were happy.
They would run around the woods behind the hut and laugh and find animals and they play in trees, they would sit in Julian’s flowerbed because Oscar had discovered that none of the flowers were supposed to be able to grow here because it was too warm but that year was still the last winter Oscar ever saw, which was fine because he hated winter. They would help the old man pluck herbs even if it was Julian who did most of the plucking but it was fine because when Julian pricked his fingers, Oscar would always be there to put a band aid on. They would do nothing at all.
Julian only saw the truth and bravely and the beautiful curl at the corner of Oscar’s lips and Oscar in turn could never deny Julian anything when he turned his white eyes to him and smiled that bright smile that hadn’t dimmed a bit under the years that had passed.
The day the Dean told his son over the breakfast table that the day he would take over after his old father would soon come was also the same day as the day Oscar leaned over to Julian as they sat at the edge of the cliff and gazed over the wild sea and the dark sunset and he kissed Julian on the lips he had watched for years.
Oscar was nervous but determined and as Julian melted into the kiss and opened his mouth right way, Oscar took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. It didn’t matter that it was awkward or that Julian accidently bit his tongue. It was their first kiss and even if they had fallen of the cliff, Oscar doubted he’d be any less happy.
On the other hand, he’d be in an awful lot more pain, but that was beside the point.
Nothing changed after that really. Julian might have blushed a bit more when they were touching and Oscar often didn’t answer Julian’s question because he was too busy staring at Julian’s lips, but other than that, only the kissing and the hand holding were the only notable difference.
After all, Oscar had always been a bit slow at understanding Julian’s words.
But – as all stories – it is always when the protagonists are the most happiest that the villain of the story plans his big debut and ruins the rosy scenario the love-birds has painted for themselves.
Since Oscar had all but grown up now, the villagers feared he would become a village leader influenced by dark magic and told the current village leader about their concerns.
He was not happy.
Who could blame him, though? For countless years his son had been consorting with an evil magic boy and he hadn’t even known and no one had told him either. The village all heard his cry of rage and together they concluded that the evil boy could not be anywhere near their future leader. They knew Oscar was good and brave and loyal, but no light could ever turn black into white.
With their tools and weapons pitched high, they marched on to the hut at the end of the world.
They found the couple in the garden, surrounded by flowers none in the village had ever seen before, and the surprise on the boys’ faces was as clear as the day.
‘’No, wait, what are you doing?’’ Oscar tried to reason but none would listen. ‘’Don’t harm him. Don’t touch Julian!’’
But they all ignored him. He was delusional; the evil boy had bewitched him.
Julian stepped in front of Oscar. He would never forgive himself if Oscar got hurt because of who he was. He tried to protect them both. But a whole village was too much for one small boy, especially a boy who still hadn’t lost all of his wisdom teeth, no matter how much magic he had. His heart was pure and filled with only Oscar’s smile and voice and their memories and he had never seen Oscar cry before until this last moment.
The whole village watched as their brave future leader held the body of a tall, lanky boy with dark, curly hair and eyes white as the wedding dresses all the wives had worn on their big day. They watched as the boy they all knew and were supposed to trust cried over the evil boy as if the world had ended. And perhaps it had, at least for him.
And that’s when they realized it. It was just a boy.
And then the sky broke open and for the first time in years, it snowed.
And a grotesque snapping was heard as the old man someone had been holding back turned into a dragon but didn’t fly away, just walking slowly over to the two boys and standing by them. Protecting them against the true evil there. He stared at the villagers and everyone could see what he wanted to say but couldn’t. Are you happy now? Are you finally satisfied?
And the flowers they had seen upon arriving withered.
And soon every villager realized that they had done and it would be years before anyone spoke of it again. Their children and grandchildren would ask if the legend of the dragon living at the cliff was true and yes it is, so never go up there, ok? Good, now eat your peas, honey, and don’t ask again.
Several decades later, walking up the hut to see the dragon would become a not-so-secret secret rite of passage amongst the young in the village. But none that came down again would ever claim to have seen the dragon. Instead, they would say they saw two boys, sitting in a flower bed filled with weird flowers they had never seen before. One blond and one brunette, and they would have been smiling before they would disappear together off the cliff.
The children who had yet to go the hut at the end of world to see it would call them liars, and those who had, would smile knowingly.
The vision of the two happy boys would follow every villager for the rest of their lives.
And the boys lived happily ever after. Or something. Because isn’t that how all great stories end?
