1.4k words, Max and Daniel (NOT ROMANTIC), Fantasy AU
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The cold air stings against his nose as Max makes his way through the forest, he doesn't need a map, he knows the way by heart now. A path well remembered by years of repeated steps, a never ending cycle reinforced once more. Small twigs crunch underfoot as he makes his way deeper into the woods, branches winding out in a canopy of evergreen above him. The forest has always brought comfort to Max, it's the place he has had most, if not all, of his firsts.
His mother used to bring him to the riverbed, dance with him among the wildflowers that all but covered the forest floor in Spring. He remembers his first hunting dog, Nino, taught to guide him in the winter, laughter amplified by the silent insulation of the snow. His first horse in the fall, sparring in the summer, the forest has always been Prince Verstappen’s closest friend.
As he reaches the edge of the riverbank where the grass drops off into the rocky shoreline Max finds himself once more at peace with his thoughts. He is no boy anymore, far from the years of dancing and sparring, but he has yet to find a place better capable at calming his mind, and so he sits. For a moment he just takes in the sounds, the river’s soft grumbles, the leaves as they sway in the wind, the quiet symphony of sounds only for him. It only lasts a second, a brief pause before the calm is ripped.
“Maxy~ Are we escaping again?”
He doesn't need to open his eyes to know it's Daniel, the soft ruffle of his hair punctuated by the thud next to him confirms his suspicion well enough.
“Id say you need a haircut, not a bath, but do what suits you best. The baths in the castle are much warmer than the river though mate.”
When Max opens his eyes Daniel is, as he expected, sitting beside him, feet idly shifting in the water. It causes small ripples that Max watches span out until they become consumed by the natural path of the stream.
“Im not here to bathe Daniel.”
He tries to make his voice clipped, to put out some semblance of annoyance at the interruption,however the whole thing dissolves into a futile attempt as he speaks. Daniel is sporting the same gummy grin.
“Alright then, what are you here for then, future heir Verstappen?”
His words are lighthearted, but Max recoils at the name, a frown etching itself across his face before he can remember to stop it. Daniel flashes him an apologetic smile.
“Ferrai is in danger, they need aid.”
“Ah, and so father is sending his best commander to front them troops?”
Max scowls at him once more.
“He wants me to bring our battalion, yes.”
“Ive heard Prince Leclerc is quite handsome~”
Daniel’s voice goes singsongy in the quiet, enough to disrupt a squirrel nearby, Max doesn't blame it.
“I have no interest in making advances of any sort with Prince Leclerc, I'm just going to provide support until Mercedes makes their decision.”
“Right, just going to the kingdom of Ferrari to provide support until you can get your hands on Prince Russell then? Or maybe King Wolff..? I never pegged you for the older type Maxy, but I suppose if-”
Max punches Daniel in the shoulder.
“Just going to the kingdom of Ferrari because I was ordered to.”
The second part goes unsaid, the ‘I don't want to’ the ‘I don't have a choice’, but Max knows Daniel understands. Daniel understands their father better than anyone.
He looks at Max with a far off look, one that ties his brows into a thick line and wrinkles his eyes in concern. For a moment Max wonders if that is how he has always looked when Max speaks about their father, it makes his chest tighten.
Jos is not a kind man, nor is he a kind father. Even as an adult Max is reminded he is nothing more than the crown piece in his father’s game. And as much as he hates it, he knows Daniel knows he is right. Max is only ever able to find his own piece in moments like this, his father never dares to come into Max’s woods.
It's the only place Max is truly free to be himself.
His gaze returns to Daniel, tracing over every feature of him with immense care. His skin is slightly darker than Max’s, tanned and olive where his own is pale and pink. Daniel’s eyes are honey brown, they glow slightly amber when the sun hits them just right. Max remembers that. Daniel has lots of scars, plenty of which are from Max, blunt blades used in his youth. Daniel is 8 years older than Max, but here he almost looks younger. It stills Max’s heart, a kind of freezing in his ribs that aches with every breath as he leans his body into Daniel’s.
“I don't want to go.”
His voice is so pityfully small for a prince it makes him wince, accent sliding over the words unevenly. Daniel wraps an arm around him and Max can almost remember his scent, almost remember his warmth. Daniel’s fingers card through Max’s hair softly, pressing soothing motions into his scalp.
“I know Max.”
“Im scared.”
He squeezes him, and Max feels tears begin to swell in his eyes.
“I know Max.”
Daniel doesn't comment on how Max’s snot is going to leave an unruly stain on his tunic, he never does. He just continues to press his weight into Max’s side as his hand traces patterns on Max’s back, they never acknowledge the soft sobs that come from Max. The tear trails that stain his cheeks.
He isn't sure how long he spends out in the forest, but he does know as the sun begins to set Jos will be looking for him soon. He returns to the castle with heavy footsteps, the looming shadow of its stone guiding him through its gates menacingly. The sconces flicker as he steps into the grand hall, the last of the day’s light fluttering through the stained glass into coloured blobs across the red of the carpet. He doesn't have to be told to know that Jos is waiting for him, Max’s feet find their way to the throne room of their own accord, dropping to his knees before his father’s crowned figure. The light is gone from the sun now, an extensive shadow stretching across the room in its wake, too early still for the moon to take its place. The hall is eerily silent.
“Are you prepared to set out tomorrow?”
Max keeps his head bowed, hands clenched at his sides.
“Yes sir.”
He tries desperately to keep his voice level, void of anything that might give his father satisfaction.
Jos is unimpressed.
“The servants say you were galavanting in the woods again?”
Max’s body stiffens momentarily before he wills himself to relax, he has learned it's better to stay unaffected in these situations. He doesn't answer.
“Well? Come on, were you?”
Max grinds his teeth.
“Yes sir, I'm sorry sir.”
“You arent a boy anymore Max, you shouldnt be fucking around out there.”
Max feels his blood begin to boil.
“What is it about your woods that intrigues you so?”
Max isn't sure how to respond, the words have a bite, however he knows he is expected to answer.
“I’m not sure, father.”
His knees ache beneath him.
“Best of you to say your goodbyes to it then, I don't want you going back there anymore, there is nothing for you there Max.”
Max wishes he could stop himself from whipping his head up to meet his father’s eyes. The look of desperation clear across his own face. It's a flash of weakness, a flicker of mistake, and Max’s heart drops the second he sees his father smile.
“Yes father.”
He bites at his lip.
“Good, now go wash up, you leave at dawn.”
Max answers with a curt nod, and he is grateful that Jos accepts it for once. Allowing him to return to his feet before he catches Max’s attention once more.
“Oh, and Max,”
Regrettably Max turns to face Jos once more.
“The servants have told me you’ve been speaking to yourself again.”
Max’s face goes white as a ghost.
“He is dead Max, and with good reason, you'd be smart to let him go lest you wish to join him.”
The words stick like arrows in his chest, his voice quiet as he turns once more to leave.
I love the new The Regrettes song. I miss them. Come back to me! And I didn’t know that there was a new The Spiderwick Chronicles show so now I’m really excited about that. I loved those books! I’ll have to re read all those books now! And oh my god I had suck a crush on all the siblings growing up! I didn’t realize why I loved Mallory Grace the Sword girl so much but she is so cool and pretty. It’ll be neat to meet new versions of these characters.
Album Review: Procol Harum - Something Magic (Expanded & Remastered)
When it came out in 1977, Something Magic, the 10th - and final - album of Procol Harum’s initial run, represented the sound of a band running on creative fumes.
Filled out with the side-long (18 minutes) “The Worm & the Tree,” an orchestral, spoken-word treatise on greed, it has but a few high-quality tunes, including the symphonic title track.
Remastered - brighter and with more high end - and expanded with studio cuts, including the uncharacteristic bluegrass of “This Old Dog” with organist Pete Solley on fiddle, and a terrific BBC Radio 1 concert, the Something Magic reissue is worth a 21st-century revisit for the bonus material.
The live performance finds the band playing much of its classically tinged music - “Something Magic,” “Conquistador,” “Grand Hotel,” et al. - sans strings, leaving vocalist Gary Brooker and Solley to recreate those parts on piano and organ, respectively. This sets the songs in unique arrangements and allows the band - not to mention Brooker on the mic - to show off its formidable musical chops.
“Wizard Man,” meanwhile, foreshadows every rock ‘n’ roll song Bruce Springsteen would pen for The River and “A Whiter Shade of Pale” proves this Procol incarnation - despite having only Brooker and drummer B.J. Wilson, plus non-performing lyricist Keith Reid, from the original lineup - capable of recapturing decade-old magic just before the end of the line.
We told each other things. He told me I came across as an air head, I laughed and said he was a self involved whiner. I was getting drunk meanwhile he was sobering up. Around 5 a.m. he asked if I wanted to smoke a cigarette and watch the sun rise. I hated cigarettes, but for him, I would’ve smoked a carton. I knew we wouldn’t last, I’d get wise or he’d chicken out. That, how I feel now, how close to you can’t last.
