"David," Alec said, but David was already getting out of bed, touching things and looking toward Alec's trunk, planning. Dreaming.
"David," Alec said again and he'd climbed down out of bed too, put a hand on his shoulder. He drew him over to the window.
It was almost as bright as day on the street outside, the lamps burning fierce. "Look," Alec said and David saw three huge men, tall and thick with muscle, standing right outside, right across from the door.
"How far do you think we'd get?" Alec said and his voice was tired, resigned.
"I could‑‑" David said and touched a finger to the window. The glass bloomed frosty under his touch and he could feel that fierce darkness welling inside him. It scared him but for Alec he'd do anything.
"Don’t say that," Alec breathed and David realized he'd spoken out loud.
"I would though," he said and looked down at the men below them. They might have families; children, parents, someone who looked at them and felt the way he did when he looked at Alec.
He didn't care.
"There would be more," Alec said. "Even if you‑‑we'd never make it out of the city. The King knows who you are and when he wants something or someone he gets it. And when he meets you‑‑sees you‑‑you'll be safe. Safer than you've ever been. He has power."
"I don't want that. I want‑‑" He tugged Alec close.
Alec closed his eyes. "Come back to bed," he said softly, brokenly. "It's not morning. Not yet."
When the sun finally did rise Alec was arched up over him, pushing deep inside him while one hand stroked David's cock, smiling when David twitched, gasped and then said his name.
"You're so beautiful," Alec said, and his voice was barely a whisper, "the most beautiful person I've ever known." And looking into his eyes David saw Alec wasn't talking about what he saw when he looked at him, about what he was seeing now. Alec was talking what was inside him, about his heart.
Alec saw him, saw all of him.
"I‑‑" he said and felt words well up, words he'd only heard about in stories. Words he'd never heard directed at him, never said. Alec kissed him, stroked him harder, faster, pushed until all David could manage was a quick broken cry, his heart's song.
They rode to the palace in silence, seated inside a magnificent carriage. The three men that had been waiting outside were with them, one on either side of David, the third glowering at Alec.
"Didn't expect to see you again," he'd said when he saw him, and spit into the street. Alec had merely shrugged and said, "Still as pleasant as ever, I see," in a sharp voice, but David saw his shoulders tense. He saw the way he was sitting in the carriage, his fists tight knots resting on his legs, his feet tapping restlessly over and over, an impatient helpless rhythm. He saw Alec's eyes dart toward the carriage door, then to him. He saw a moment, saw Alec's gaze veer toward recklessness, toward hope.
Then the palace came into view. When that happened Alec stilled and that's when David knew that once they were inside only one of them would be leaving. He looked out the window, saw stone and towers and tall walls. He saw a place of many rooms and wondered which one would hold him.
Chapter Ten
Inside the palace looked nothing like the outside. It was made of clear rock, of crystal, all long tall clear hallways and rooms where the walls and floors and even the ceilings shone, sparkled and reflected light back and forth, making rainbows everywhere.
It looked like it was made of ice, and David felt trapped as soon as he walked inside.
They were taken down an endless series of glowing hallways and left waiting outside an enormous crystal door. David looked at it and thought of the window, of the three men waiting outside for them, of what he'd wanted to do. He was very afraid of what he'd see when the door opened.
Alec's hand brushed against his. "Gems," he whispered. "From the mines. That's what this place is made of. It's not‑‑" He squeezed David's fingers. "Touch a wall."
David did. It was rough and warm under his touch, and the little rainbows sprinkled across his fingers. He wiggled his fingers a little, watched the colors dance. It looked pretty.
After a moment Alec let go of his other hand.
They were admitted in to see the King then, the enormous door pushed open and a long lustrous carpet woven of fabric so fine it shimmered like sunlight marking the path they were supposed to walk, a ring of silent armed figures guarding the perimeters of the room and watching every step they took.
The King was eating breakfast. David saw a gilded tray laden with bowls of porridge and a pot of tea. Next to the tea sat a cup and saucer, the edge of both dangling over the tray. The cup and saucer were made so finely, so delicately, that the roses painted on them looked almost real.
David had seen a saucer like it before. He looked at Alec. Alec looked back at him steadily.
"Well," the King said, standing up, and David finally looked at him. He was beautiful‑‑tall and lean, with blond hair cropped short and bright sparkling eyes‑‑and David realized who the statue in the fountain in the square was of, saw that it had failed to capture the King's energy, his glow.
In a grand room with shining crystal walls and a carpet that gleamed like the sun he stood out brighter than everything. He made David's brother and sister's shine seem like candlelight, like nothing. He was looking at him and he was smiling, a beautiful pleased smile. "You are‑‑well, I don't think I've ever seen anyone so lovely. What's your name?"
"David."
"David. Surely that can't be your entire‑‑oh," the King said, surprise in his voice, and now he was looking at Alec, his smile gone crooked, pained. "I‑‑you‑‑that is, I'd been told you were gone but‑‑you‑‑you're here."
"Surprise for me too," Alec said. His voice sounded like the King's smile.
"I thought‑‑I was told you'd said you weren't coming back."
"I hadn't planned on it."
The King nodded, looked at David, the smile on his face trembling, and then back at Alec again.
"Are you still living in that awful little room?"
Alec nodded.
"I can't believe I ever visited there. But then," and the King's voice softened, dipped into memory and David watched, fascinated and jealous, "it's where you were."
"Michael‑‑" Alec said, and his voice was quiet, full of memory too. David heard the collective intake of breath of all those silent figures on the edge of the room at the use of the King's name and how Alec had said it. Simply, and like he'd said it before. Like it had once been familiar to him.
"I had to‑‑" Michael said and his voice was soft, pleading. He looked as if he'd forgotten everyone except Alec was there. "It couldn't go on. You knew that."
"I did," Alec said and his voice was steady now, calm. "It's the way of the world."
"Always right to the point. I remember when you‑‑" Michael broke off and for a moment his smile faded and David saw regret in his eyes. When he spoke again his voice was different, commanding, and David knew he'd remembered where he was, who he was. "You know why you were summoned here?"
"Yes."
"Is it true?"
Alec shrugged. Michael made a face at him, a wry twisting of his features, and for a moment Alec smiled. But he still didn't say a word.
"Is it?" Michael said again, voice sharper, as if surprised by Alec's silence. He looked hurt, lost, and David couldn't look at him anymore. It wasn't‑‑he hadn't expected this. All he could think about was the saucer and the look on Alec's face when he saw it, Gladys telling him that no miners were ever taught to read but that Alec could, the way Alec had looked at him that first night when he'd come back and David was still there. He looked at Alec.