Sleeping Sentinel

by Arnie

Once upon a time, in a kingdom a long way away, there lived a grouchy old king called William.  He and his wife, Grace, had recently had a son, James, and today was James' Christening day.

All the nobles in the land were invited, including all the good fairies who lived in the Kingdom of Cascade.  However, one fairy had not been invited.  And she was fuming.  It made no difference that she was considered to be the most evil fairy that ever stalked through Cascade frightening the locals; so far as she was concerned, she should have been invited to the Christening.

Donning her robes of deepest black, which were highly appropriate for a baby's Christening ceremony, she preened in the mirror and talked to her black raven, um...Raven.  She didn't have a very good imagination when it came to naming things.

"Well, Raven?"  Maleficent tilted her collar and glared at the mirror which promptly cracked.  "Whaddya think?"

Raven, being a bird, didn't say much.  But the gleam in his eyes spoke volumes.

"I think Billy will be sorry he didn't invite me to the Prince's Christening, don't you?"  She turned her head to gaze at her pet, then wondered why she bothered asking him questions.  Did she honestly expect him to answer her?  "Well, it's time we were going.  C'mon, bird."  She led the way to where her footman, dressed in black, waited to help her into her black carriage which was pulled by four black horses.  As you can tell, black was a major colour scheme in Maleficent's life.  As the black-clad driver cracked his black whip, the black gates were opened and the horses set off eagerly towards the white palace of King William and Queen Grace.  They got to live in a white palace because they were (technically, anyway) the good guys.

~'~

Meanwhile, at the palace, the fairies were giving Prince James their Christening day gifts.  Now, unlike most people, they weren't handing over small silver moneyboxes, silver-plated hair brushes or silver photo frames with cutesy little bears on them.  Oh no; they were, after all, fairies and they had standards to live up to.

The first fairy, Flora, flew forward and raised her little gold wand.  "To thee, Prince James, I give the gift of exceptional eyesight."

William frowned, then nodded slightly.  Eyesight was good - just think of the money he'd save by never needing to get the kid glasses.

The second fairy, Fauna, took Flora's place by the cradle.  "To thee, Prince James, I give the gift of exceptional hearing."

He frowned again, then nodded, slowly.  James would never need a hearing aid.  Another saving in his old age.

The third fairy, Merryweather, flew forward.  "To thee, Prince James, I give the gift of an exceptional sense of taste."

Another frown settled down on William's brow.  This one took longer to clear.  Finally, he decided that James would be an asset when it came to redecorating the palace and Grace wouldn't need to employ any of those interior decorators she kept insisting upon.  That would save him an absolute fortune!  He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost missed the fourth fairy's benediction.

"...of an exceptional sense of smell," Calliope declared.

William stared at the fairy as she swooped gracefully back to the others.  What on earth would an exceptional sense of smell be good for?!

Still staring, he heard her ask, "What's up with the King?"

"He probably tried some of Merryweather's cheesecake," Flora replied.  "I told her not to bake it but she never listens to me."

William was about to refute that when he was distracted by the fifth fairy giving her gift.

"To thee, Prince James, I give the gift of an exceptional sense of touch."

His jaw dropped.  Erato must have lost her mind.

Erato, obviously feeling that he needed some kind of explanation, hissed, "That's mean he's extra touchy-feely."

He stalked towards the cradle.  "What happened to traditional gifts?  Where's his beautiful voice, his sunny nature, his exceptional good temper?"

"He's got no chance if he inherits the King's," Calliope muttered, snidely.

Fortunately for Calliope, William was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Maleficent.

The gathered nobles cringed in terror.

"Oh, grow up," Maleficent snapped at them.

William sighed.  He guessed it was going to be one of those days.  "Hello, Maleficent."

"Hello, Billy," Maleficent grinned at him.  "Guess my invite got lost in the post?"

He looked at her, stunned.  "I never sent you one!  You said you'd never attend another one of my parties!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't.  Oh, wait a minute, was it your party where I got absolutely plastered and ended up head down in the fountain?"

"That's the one.  Everyone saw your kni -"

"I changed my mind.  I wanted an invite."

"Oh."  William scratched his head, moving his heavy crown out of the way to do so.  "Well, if I'd known, I'd've sent you one."

"Too late for apologies now, Billy, my boy.  I'm gonna curse your son."

The nobles cringed again and did absolutely nothing to help.

"But...he's only a baby!  Can't you curse the wife instead?"

Maleficent and William looked at Queen Grace, who was too busy drinking wine to notice the goings on around her son's cradle.  "William, considering the man she's married to, even I don't have the heart to make her life worse.  Not that I could."

William frowned again and considered her words.  Had she just insulted him?

"Well, James...looks like it's you and me, kid."

There was a flicker of pride in William as his son looked calmly at the evil fairy.  He didn't even stop to consider that as James was used to him, Maleficent wasn't that big of a deal.

"My gift to thee, Prince James, is that you will die on your thirtieth birthday."  She cackled with glee then disappeared in a puff of black smoke.

William cursed.  James was his heir.  If he died on his thirtieth birthday, Cascade would be left without a king, well, unless James had married and had children by then, which was always possible....

His matchmaking plans were interrupted by the smallest fairy, as she rushed forward, waving her wand determinedly.  "Never fear, King William!  I have not yet given Prince James my gift."

He brightened up.  Maybe today wouldn't be such a bad day after all.

Clio fluttered delicately over to the cradle and gazed into the baby's face.  "Fear not, Prince James, for you will not die upon your thirtieth birthday.  Instead you will fall into a zone-out and your one true Guide will awaken you from it."  Smiling proudly, she drifted back to her fairy friends, who all agreed she'd put a spoke in Maleficent's wheel all right.

"What the hell kind of a gift is that?" William demanded once his indignation had subsided enough to allow him to speak.  "Zone-out?  Guide?  Couldn't you just have said that he wouldn't die after all and leave it at that?"

Clio looked upset.  "I never thought of that."

"Well, change it!"

"Oh, I can't!"

The other fairies hastily agreed.  Once the gift had been given, it couldn't be altered.

"Oh for crying out loud!"  William stalked back to his throne, muttering various imprecations about fairies and how bloody useless they were in a crisis.  Slumping down on his throne, he waved a hand to the musicians.  "You might as well play," he shouted at them.  "I'm not paying you to sit around doing nothing."

The musicians struck up a moderately lively tune, and conversation gradually returned to the great hall.

And so the years passed....

~'~

Prince James grew up in his father's court and, after a while, became very tired of his father's bad temper, despite the fact that his own temper was nothing to write home about.  In fact, if we're going to mention it, we might as well point out that one of the fairies could have done him the favour of giving him a sunny nature and cheerful disposition, but none of them did.  So we'll let it go and console ourselves with the thought that no matter how bad his temper was (and it wasn't really that bad), he was far nicer a person than his father, to say nothing of being honourable and honest and an all-round good guy.  And he had a sense of humour.  Take that, William!

Needless to say, this grated on William.  His son was supposed to take after him and be a grouchy old sod and, instead, James was wildly popular with the people, who all preferred him to the King.  Finally, driven demented by his father's endless marriage plans and his insistence that James could not have seen, heard or smelt whatever it was that he had seen, heard or smelt, James left.  He sneaked away in the middle of the night and joined an elite army platoon called the Rangers who never once suspected that their tall, good-looking, honourable Jim was the tall, good-looking, honourable Prince James who was mysteriously missing.  This shows why 'Army Intelligence' is such an oxymoron.

~'~

After many adventures and battles, Jim decided to return home for his thirtieth birthday celebrations, not one bit the worse for wear.  Of course, he had no idea why his thirtieth birthday was so important, but his father had always been exceptionally grouchy when the subject came up, so Jim decided that he might as well go and annoy his father as a thirtieth birthday present to himself.

Accordingly, he saddled up his horse, Sentinel, and headed back towards Cascade.  He'd allowed plenty of time for the journey as he planned on camping in the woods and probably doing a bit of fishing too.  Of course, he'd have to sleep on the ground but he'd worked as a Ranger for quite a few years, and sleeping on the ground and catching his own dinner really didn't bother him at all.  He was a very practical kind of man despite being a prince by birth.

The woods were vast and it was rare to come across anyone else at all in them, so Jim was looking forward to a lot of solitude which would only be interrupted when he got up close and personal with a fish.  And fish don't talk much.

On his second day riding through the woods, he found a rather large pool that was presently home to a rather large trout.  Making camp not far from the edges of the pool, he got out his rod and bait and set about catching his dinner.  He baited his hook and spent quite a while patiently persuading the fish that this large tasty worm was irresistible despite the shiny hook the worm was attached to.  Just as the trout was about to take the bait (and the shiny hook) there was an enormous splash as someone fell out of an over-hanging tree and landed in the middle of the pool.  Naturally, the fish decided to dine elsewhere and left.

For a moment, Jim stood open-mouthed as water ran down his face and dripped off his nose.  Then, as the miscreant surfaced and started scrabbling to get to the edge of the pool, he gave a roar of anger and surged forward to haul the intruder out of the pond.

As soon as their feet reached dry land, he shook the smaller person sharply.  "What did you think you were doing?!"

Blue eyes gazed up through dark, tangled curls.  "Watching you fish?"

"How close did you need to be to watch?" Jim demanded.  "Couldn't you see from where you were?"

"Well, of course I could.  It wasn't my fault I slipped and fell off the branch!"  There was a hint of indignation in the boy's tone as he pulled himself free.  "I didn't mean to fall in."

Jim looked up at the high over-hanging branch then back down at the pool, measuring the distance.  "If that pool hadn't been there, you would have killed yourself falling that far."

"If that pool hadn't been there, I wouldn't have been on the branch watching you fish!" the boy retorted sharply.  "You were doing well too."

Jim's anger rose sharply once more.  "I was doing well until you fell in, you mean!"

"Like I said, that was an accident."  The boy shivered suddenly and sneezed.  "Anyway, I'm sorry I ruined your fishing.  I'll let you get back to it."  He turned to leave.

"Wait a minute!"  Jim grabbed hold of the handy tunic again and pulled the boy to a stop.  "Where do you live?  Where are your parents?"  He glanced around.  He couldn't remember seeing any cottages nearby, and how many people chose to live in the middle of a wood anyway?

The boy shrugged, trying to pull himself free again.  "I live on the outskirts of the wood.  I was collecting firewood a couple of days ago and I kind of um...lost my way."

"You've been wandering through the woods for two days?"

The boy's face tightened with his anger.  "Well, I lost my way."

"Oh for God's sake."  Dragging the boy over to his camp, he pulled out some clean clothing and thrust them into the kid's arms.  "Go behind that bush and get changed.  I'll make up a fire then try to catch us some dinner."

The boy stayed where he was, glaring at his reluctant rescuer, so Jim spun him around and pushed him in the direction of the bush.  "Go!"

Ignoring the mutterings that were coming from the bush, Jim built a fire and returned to his fishing, keeping one ear fixed on the boy's heartbeat.  He didn't want the kid running off with his spare clothing.

Finally, the kid emerged, his face flushed, and Jim bit back a smile.  It wasn't the kid's fault that he was so much shorter and that the sleeves of his tunic had had to be rolled up several times while his hose had a certain 'very baggy' look around the ankles.  And it certainly wasn't his fault that he looked extremely comical in Jim's clothing.  Therefore, Jim restrained his mirth and calmly directed the boy to spread out his own clothes to dry on some nearby bushes.

The large trout had disappeared from view so Jim made do with catching two medium sized fish.  He had some bread in his saddlebags, plus a bottle of wine, although he'd have to water the kid's wine down a bit.  It wasn't until he had the two fish cooking that he returned to questioning the boy.

"What's your name?"

"Blair.  What's yours?"

"Jim."  He turned the fish over in the pan and glanced at the boy again.  He'd assumed that the kid was in his mid-teens, but now he wasn't so sure.  If he was only about fifteen, he'd started shaving early as there was a definite hint of a beard.  "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," the boy claimed, his heartbeat increasing.

Jim raised an eyebrow.  "Try again."

"Twenty."  The boy's eyes met his and he scowled.  "Oh, nineteen, okay?  I'm nineteen."  His heartbeat had calmed.

"So what's a nineteen-year-old doing living on the edge of the woods?"

The boy flushed with embarrassment and remained silent.

"Do you live with your parents?"

Still nothing but the boy's face was getting redder.

"Do you live alone?"

If the boy kept this up, he was going to have a stroke.

"For heaven's sake, just answer the question!"

The boy scowled and muttered, "Ilivewithsixfairies."

Jim stopped and leaned forward.  He'd heard it, but he didn't believe it.  "Excuse me?"

"Ilivewithsixfairies."

He decided to untangle the words.  "You."

"Yes."

"Live."

"Yes."

"With."

"Yes."

"Six."

"Yes."

"Fairies?"

The flush deepened once more as a very small voice admitted, "Yes."

Jim sat back and thought about that.  "So why didn't they come looking for you when you went missing two days ago?"

Blair shrugged, his flush fading as Jim let his weird living arrangements pass without comment.  "I don't know.  Normally, they won't let me go anywhere because I uh...have a tendency to get a bit lost.  This time, they were positively shoving me out of the door."

Jim shrugged.  Who could fathom the ways of fairies?  "Six fairies; they must be hell to live with."

"Oh, they're not too bad.  I mean, they do a lot of the housework and if I need a new book they can just magic it up.  And as long as Merryweather doesn't do the cooking, everything's fine."

"Merryweather can't cook?"

"She's killed dead people with her cooking."

Jim considered that.  "That's bad."

"So what do you do?"

Jim flipped the fish over, savouring the smell of them.  "I'm a Ranger."

"What do you do as a Ranger?"

"Well, I fight in battles, keep the peace, march a lot.  That kind of thing."

The boy thought that over, then, "Huh.  I think I prefer living with the fairies."

Jim was rather miffed with that answer.  "Hey, at least it's a job."

"Well, yes, but...fighting in battles.  You must have to kill people."

"Only people who are trying to kill me."

"Maybe they wouldn't try to kill you if you weren't trying to kill them."

Jim looked at him in exasperation.  "That's not how war works, you know."

"I know that but...I could never kill someone."

"You don't need to," Jim retorted as he handed over a plateful of fish and bread, "you can just get 'em with Merryweather's cooking!"

Blair opened his mouth to argue further but Jim held up his fork warningly.

"You're wearing my clothes and you're about to eat the fish I caught.  Do you really think you're in a position to argue with me?"

His mouth shut and Blair's eyes dropped to look at his plateful of food.  "I guess not."

"Right.  Eat your meal."

~'~

Blair glanced over at his recently gained and rather unwanted companion.  While he had been quietly panicking about the fact that he was lost in the woods, he thought that he'd been doing fairly all right.  He'd found plenty of fruits to keep himself going and, he was sure, sooner or later his six guardians would have come looking for him.

If he was strictly honest, he was extremely surprised they hadn't already come looking for him; they were rather on the over-protective side.  However, be that as it may, he would have preferred to still be alone and trying to find his way back than be stuck with Jim.  It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the hot meal - fruits and berries had palled on him after a very short time - but the man was so...so...in charge all of the time!  He'd insisted on watering down Blair's wine, and now he'd decided, as Blair had sneezed just a couple of times, he should lie down on Jim's blankets and try to sleep.

Blair scowled and checked his clothing one more time to see if it was dry yet.  If it was, he planned on getting changed and making his escape while Jim was busy 'making up the bed'.  Unfortunately for him, his clothing was still damp.

He glanced uneasily at the bigger man he was going to be sharing the blankets with.  Not that Jim seemed the type to...well, who did?  But he felt pretty sure of Jim.  He didn't know why, he just was.  Jim might, and would, order him around but he knew, deep down inside, that Jim would never hurt him.

"They'll be dry by morning.  Now lie down and go to sleep."

There it was, that tone of command again.  Giving in, Blair silently huddled down under the blankets, his face turned towards the fire.  If only he hadn't slipped off that stupid branch.  He'd thought he'd had a good perch but, just as Jim was about to catch his fish, it had felt as though the branch had, well, quivered and then chucked him off.  Not that he'd told Jim that part.  He blinked sleepily and yawned.  It didn't even make sense!  Trees didn't chuck people off their branches.  Well, not unless they were magicked.

For a second, a thought flickered at the edge of his consciousness but the wine and the warmth did the trick and he slipped into sleep before the vague idea could become anything more.

~'~

Sleeping on the ground with only a blanket between you and the earth is never pleasant.  While a quick nap on a thick lawn of grass is quite comfortable, a whole night's worth of sleep is guaranteed to leave you feeling stiff and achey.

Fortunately for both of them, Jim was used to sleeping on the ground and knew that the stiffness wouldn't last long, while Blair was normally a fairly happy-go-lucky person who couldn't remain in a bad mood if you paid him to do so.  Therefore, breakfast was a fairly amicable affair consisting of fish caught by Jim and slightly burned by Blair.

As soon as breakfast was over, Jim saddled up Sentinel and collected his things together.

Blair stood to one side, watching him, suddenly sorry that their brief meeting was over.  Despite the dictatorial attitude that Jim favoured, he liked him.  He shrugged slightly.  Maybe they'd meet again and, in the meantime, he had to find his way out of these woods.  He ran a hand through his hair, wishing he'd been blessed with a good sense of direction.  Some people always knew where North was but he definitely wasn't one of them.

"Come on, Chief, let's get going."

He looked up.  Jim was on Sentinel's back with one arm stretched down to him.  Flushing with pleasure, he realised that Jim had no intention of abandoning him to wander through the woods, and a quick jump, with a yank from Jim, saw him sitting behind Jim, holding on tightly.

"Will Sentinel be all right carrying us both?"

"He'll be fine for a while.  We can give him a good rest when we stop for lunch."

~'~

To Jim's surprise, he didn't mind Blair's company at all.  The kid was interesting to listen to, even if half his claims were a bit extreme, and it certainly made the time fly by.

Lunch consisted of more fish, though Blair insisted on fetching various plants to make up a kind of salad.  He'd found a patch of land that he swore must have been someone's garden once, and had happily pulled up and washed various plants from there.

Jim eyed his plate with suspicion.  He'd faced death in battle, foes armed to the teeth with every weapon imaginable.

This green stuff was a bit unnerving though.

"It's lettuce, Jim, it's good for you."  Blair bit into a leaf, as if trying to reassure Jim.

Jim wasn't reassured.  The kid lived with six fairies - he could probably count on them to make him immune to the effects of various plants.  However, Jim was a Ranger, and Rangers never shirked danger.

He was pretty sure Rangers had never faced lettuce.

Taking a bite, Jim chewed, then swallowed.  "It's tasteless."

"It's not tasteless."  Blair waved a leaf in the air before chomping on it.  "It's just...subtle."

Jim tried again.  Nope, definitely tasteless.  Dropping the leaf, and the subject, Jim ate a bit of fish.  "So tell me some more about yourself, Chief.  What do you want to do with your life?"

Blair shrugged.  "Merryweather keeps on talking about some destiny I've got."  He shook his head.  "I don't know.  I don't feel destined for anything in particular."

Privately, Jim thought Merryweather was as nutty as a fruitcake.  "What would you like to do though?  You could become a Ranger."

"I don't think so, man!"  Blair grinned.

"Or a chef."  Jim eyed the lettuce again.  "You could start a new line in uh...lettuce."

"Nah.  I'd like to go to university, to study."

"Lettuce?"

Blair put the leaf he was eating down.  "I swear, man, you are obsessed with lettuce."

Jim shook his head.  He was a Ranger - they didn't get obsessed with green leafy things that had no taste.  Well, not unless they were armed.  "So what do you want to study?"

"People!"  Blair's face lit up at the thought.  "They're fascinating!"  He waved half a tomato in the air.  "Did you know there's a tribe in the Amazon who haven't had contact with any outside race at all?!"

Jim narrowed his eyes as he thought about that.  "Then how do you know they exist?"

Blair shrugged nonchalantly.  "They've been seen."

"But they didn't see the people who saw them?"

"No."

"So...you want to go study a tribe of blind people in the Amazon?"  It sounded like a recipe for disaster to Jim.  Blair couldn't go for a walk in the forest without getting lost - God knew what wouldn't happen if he got to the Amazon.  He raised his eyebrows as the kid glared at him.

"Very funny, man!"

Nope, Blair definitely wasn't going to study anyone in the Amazon.  At least, not alone.  Jim had friends in the Rangers - and he was the heir to the throne, that had some advantages.  If Blair went to the Amazon, he'd go with protection, and lots of it.  And someone else to read the map.  "So tell me about this tribe," Jim invited before taking a bite of his bread.  Maybe he'd go too - the kid needed someone to keep an eye on him, and he'd probably talk rings around everyone else.

Next minute, Jim's mouthful of bread went flying across the fire.  "They live up in trees?!"

Blair sat up again, glancing over his shoulder at the bread he'd managed to duck.  "Yeah."

"You're not going."  Jim shook his head decisively.  "You fell out of a tree, remember?  If that pool hadn't been there, you would've been killed."

"It's not your decision!" Blair retorted.

Jim opened his mouth to refute that, then paused.  The kid was right; it wasn't his decision.  However...  "Merryweather would hate it.  She'd worry."  There.  If that didn't work, Jim would think of something.  Like a proclamation barring anyone called Blair from going to the Amazon.

"You don't even know Merryweather!"

"I'm sure she's a lovely old lady, and she'd worry about you."  Jim ignored Blair's attempt at arguing and took his plate from him.  "I'll wash these."

~'~

For a moment, Blair stared at Jim's back as he washed the plates, then got up and wandered over.  "I can take care of myself, you know."

Jim straightened, shaking the water from the clean plates.  "And how long were you wandering in the forest for?"

Blair bit his lip, then muttered, "A day or so."

"Make that two days, Chief," Jim replied, making his way to Sentinel and tucking the dishes away.  "Anyway, maybe that destiny will come along before you get to the Amazon, so you'll be worrying about nothing."

"I'm not worrying about it!"

"Uh huh, right."  Jim got up onto Sentinel's back and held out his hand.  "Are you coming?"

Grabbing the hand, Blair scrambled up behind Jim.  "You're such a jerk, you know that?"

"It's part of the Ranger training, Chief.  I'm glad to know I'm not letting the side down."

~'~

This time, when they stopped to rest, Jim insisted on teaching Blair to catch fish.  "After all, if you're gonna be lost in the woods, you need to know how to survive."

From the tilt of Blair's chin, he was doing his best to ignore that in a dignified manner.  Behind his back, Jim grinned.  The kid was so easy to tease.

His amusement vanished when he realised that Blair had managed to sneak more lettuce and other vegetables into his saddlebags, but Jim sighed and rolled his eyes, letting Blair add it to his plate, but steadfastly refusing to have it on his own.

His meal finished, Jim lay back, gazing up at the blue sky above.  Sentinel was probably okay to carry them for another hour or so, but Jim felt a reluctance to go on.  Every hour they travelled meant another hour towards Blair's home and, while Jim didn't have anything personal against the fairies the kid was living with, he just felt an inclination to keep him under his own eye.  Where had Blair's guardians been when Blair was falling into the pool or making plans to go live with Amazonian tree people?

"Jim, you okay?"

Blair's voice broke into his reverie, and Jim opened his eyes.  "Sure, just tired.  I think we'll stop here for the night."

A grin lit up Blair's face.  "Sounds fine to me.  I'll go wash the plates."

Rousing himself, Jim fetched some more firewood and added some to the fire.  Though the days were hot, the temperature frequently fell a lot during the night, and he didn't want the kid catching cold.

It wasn't until he was sitting by the fire again, this time with Blair cosily leaning against his shoulder, that Jim stopped to analyse that.  Why was he so bothered over this?  Even when he'd mentored new recruits, Jim had assumed they knew how to take care of themselves.

With a sudden grin, Jim knew why.  The kid was literally off living with the fairies - who knew what he'd do next?

~'~

It wasn't until the cottage came into sight the next day that Blair realised he was almost home.  While he hadn't liked not knowing where he was in the woods, once he'd met up with Jim, he'd felt fine.  No matter where he was, Jim had known which way to go, so Blair hadn't felt lost any more.

But now he was home...and feeling lost.

"You okay, Chief?"

Blair drew a breath.  "Yeah!  Just realised where we are!"  He filled his voice with fake enthusiasm.

"I said I'd get you home," Jim pointed out lightly.  His voice changed, becoming serious, "Listen, I'm gonna be around for a few days.  Mind if I call back and see you?"

This time, the enthusiasm was real.  "That'd be great, man!  I know the fairies would love to meet you!"

Jim's shoulders shook slightly though Blair couldn't imagine why.  "I can't wait to meet them either."

~'~

Leaving Blair behind was a wrench, though Jim couldn't understand why.  He'd only known the kid two days.

Gazing around at the irritating, noisy, smelly city, Jim sighed.  Okay, so maybe Blair had kept him distracted - stopped him from thinking about his father, his mother, and the thousand and one reasons why he hadn't returned earlier.

Maybe he could camp out near Blair's cottage instead.  Spend a few days getting to know the fairies - and Jim never thought that prospect would appeal to him.  But every step that Sentinel took, took Jim closer to his birthright, and his father.

Maybe he could take Blair to the Amazon himself.

Jim was about to turn Sentinel around and head off back to Blair's cottage when trumpets sounded.  Very, very loudly.  He sighed; they'd spotted him.  Pinning a smile to his face, he nodded and waved to the cheering crowds that were gathering.

Okay, so it was kinda nice they'd missed him.

It didn't take long for Jim to reach the palace, and he was surprised to spot his father lurking on the front steps, his neck craning as he strained to see.

Pulling Sentinel to a standstill, Jim dismounted and handed over the reins to an ostler, getting halfway up the steps before his father managed to speak.

"James!"

"Hello, Father."  Jim smiled.  His father really did look surprised to see him, despite the trumpets that had been blaring his arrival for the past mile or so.

"You're back."

"Um...yes."  Jim frowned.  Had his father always been this quick on the uptake?

"Well, that's handy.  We were going to celebrate your thirtieth birthday anyway, but I guess it'll look even better if you're here to celebrate it too."  William looked quite pleased about it all.

"Oh."  Jim kicked himself mentally.  If he'd known that staying away would annoy his father more, he would have gone to camp near Blair's cottage without a twinge of conscience at all.

However, it was too late now.  Giving in to the inevitable, he followed his father up the palace steps and into the great hall.

"Grace, James is home!"

Jim smiled as his mother waved a wine bottle at him.

"Sho nice," she told him.

As William wrested the bottle from her hand, Jim sighed.  Nothing had changed at all.

~'~

Fortunately for Jim's patience, the party was scheduled for the very next night.  Unfortunately for the palace tailors, the party was scheduled for the very next night.  So Jim spent most of the day with pieces of cloth hanging off him as the tailors worked their fingers to the bone trying to get his outfit ready in time.  He'd tried to talk them out of it, saying that he had his uniform but, while the head tailor was ready and willing to listen to Jim's tales of being a Ranger, he was adamant that there was no way any prince of Cascade was going to make an appearance at the ball in anything but a Gaultion outfit.

"It's the principle, your grace," Monsieur Gaultion told him, the silver pins catching the light as they were rapidly jammed in place.

Jim flinched automatically.

"Oh, not to worry, your grace!  None of my employees have ever damaged a client."  Monsieur Gaultion leaned in close and murmured, "Well, except for that incident with the Duchess of Grandier - but she really should have warned us about the parrot."

Frowning, Jim opened his mouth to ask how the parrot came into it, but Monsieur Gaultion had reverted to the previous subject.

"However, as I was saying, it's a matter of principle.  Your grace and his ancestors have been dressed by Gaultion's since Cascade was founded.  It's expected."

The emphasis on the last word was not missed by Jim, who knew a heck of a lot about what was expected and what wasn't.  And, as he'd spent the past few years getting out of what was expected of him, Jim thought the least he could do was accept it gracefully.

~'~

"Blair?"

Raising his head, Blair shut the book he wasn't reading and smiled at Flora.  "Hi."

"We wondered if you were hungry.  You barely ate anything at lunch, even though Merryweather didn't do the cooking."

Blair smiled as Flora handed him a plate of biscuits with a cup of tea.  "I'm fine.  I just...."  Turning his head, he gazed out of his bedroom window where the spires of the distant city could be seen.

"Just...?"  Flora sat on the edge of his bed and waited, smiling at him reassuringly.

"I think I miss Jim."  Putting the cup and plate down, Blair sighed.  "I only knew him for two days, but...I feel like I should be with him.  Like there's something I should be doing."

Oddly, Flora looked pleased.  "I'm sure it'll sort itself out in the end," she said, mysteriously.  "Drink your tea."

~'~

"James?!"

Jim jumped slightly, blinking at the sunshine that poured in through the window.  He'd been trying to see Blair's cottage, but the day had turned overcast, grey, with a thick mist that was impossible to see through.  Now though, the sun was back as though it had never disappeared.  He turned.  "Yes, Father?"

"For a minute then...well, never mind.  The tailors are waiting, have been for the past ten minutes."

Confused, Jim looked at the clock, then shook his head.  He would have sworn it wasn't that late.

As his father followed him, talking about the ball, the guests, Lady Lash and her son who had been specifically invited (and James had better make sure to be polite to the pair of them), Jim went to his dressing room where Monsieur Gaultion and his employees were waiting.

"Well, I'll leave you to it.  Monsieur Gaultion."  The King nodded at the tailor, then frowned at Jim.  "Mind what I say.  Lady Lash is very well-connected and we don't want to offend her."

It was Jim's turn to frown as his father left the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.  What on earth was that about?

~'~

By the time the party began in earnest, Jim was more puzzled than ever.  Lady Lash, a lady of mature years with an overbearing manner and a very large fan, had been dropping hints about bringing their families closer together.  That, coupled with his father's endless marriage plans, was giving Jim the horrific idea that Lady Lash had matrimony in mind.  What her husband, a repellent weasly little man, thought of that, Jim had no idea.

Pinning a smile to his face, Jim escaped their company and grabbed the hand of the nearest debutante.  Dancing - even if it led to his father planning how many children Jim and his dance partner would undoubtedly have - was infinitely preferable to listening to Lady Lash.

Finally, Jim took advantage of the slight scene being enacted as Lady Lash insisted that she had the right to eat the last of the mushroom hors d'ouevres, and slipped out of the room.  All he wanted was a quiet few minutes to clear his aching head and then he'd return.

He left the ballroom, ducked behind a tall suit of armour to avoid some guests, then quietly made his way up the stairs.  No one would be in his room - at least, he hoped not - so he'd be guaranteed to find a little peace and quiet there.

~'~

"James?"  As entertaining as it had been to watch Lady Lash threaten people with her fan, midnight was approaching and, if William's soothsayers were right, midnight was the time when James would fall into that stupid zone-out and be woken by Lady Lash's son.

If William was honest with himself, the idea of being stuck with Lady Lash as a frequent visitor was one that appalled him, but it seemed that her son, David, was the only one who'd be able to wake James.

Snorting to himself with disbelief over all that One True Guide claptrap, William continued to scan the room.  He couldn't see his son anywhere.  For a moment, he debated asking Grace if she'd seen him, but she was more likely to have seen pink elephants than James.  Besides, it looked like she was stealing the last of the hors d'ouevres and he didn't want to be nearby when Lady Lash figured that one out.

James hadn't left the ball, had he?  William realised that it was entirely possible, and grumbled to himself as he headed up the stairs to James' room.  If he couldn't find James there - and midnight was beginning to strike - then he'd have to have the palace searched.  And the place was too damned big for that.

Fortunately for William's temper, he found James in his bedroom, gazing out of the window as he had been earlier that day.  The midnight chimes were striking as the King hurried across the floor, his hand outstretched to rouse James from whatever dream was making him so oblivious.

A brief touch was all it took, and James seemed to collapse in on himself as the final strokes of midnight sounded.  Catching at his son's falling body, William managed to guide it to the floor, losing his crown in the process, but not caring a jot as his horrified gaze took in the slack, unconscious face of his only son and heir.

"James?"  Those damned fairies were right - and where the hell were they now his son was...  He was just in a zone-out, wasn't he?  "Jimmy?!"  Abandoning the dignity that he'd preserved for so long, William called out to his son to answer, then watched carefully.  After a few seconds, he slumped in relief.  James was still breathing, at least that was something.

Getting to his feet, William hurried to the bell pull and tugged sharply, muttering impatiently as he waited for the butler and footmen to arrive.  As soon as they arrived, William ordered them to lay the prince on the bed, then hurried down the stairs.

"David!"  His arrival in the doorway seemed to have come at an inopportune time.  The youngest member of the Lash family was nowhere in sight, but his mother had the punchbowl on her head while the Queen was bashing it enthusiastically with a ladle.  For a brief moment, admiration flickered in William's heart, then he pushed it to one side.  This was no time to egg Grace on.  "Lady Lash!" he thundered.  As she turned, the remains of the punch dripping down her face, Grace dropped the ladle and nonchalantly ate an hors d'ouevre.  "Where is your son?"

He could see the effort it cost her to muster her dignity, but it was wasted as David appeared from under the table and hurried past her.  The glee on the boy's face was clear to see, and William forced down his distaste.  Instead, he turned and quietly followed the Guide up the stairs.

Once back in James' room, William dismissed the menservants, then swallowed his indignation as he too was dismissed with a haughty, "I work without an audience!"

As the door was shut firmly behind him, William began pacing.  Putting up with Lash and his parents would be worth it if he could have his son back.

~'~

As soon as the door was closed, David smiled.  He knew all about Prince James and his condition.  His mother had hired the best tutors possible in order to make sure that he, David, would be able to bring the freak out of his zone-out.  And once James was dependent on David, things would fall into place quickly enough.

Of course, his mother had her own plans.  But he'd get rid of her as soon as she'd disposed of the King and Queen of Cascade.  After all, there was only room for one power behind the throne, and David intended for it to be him.

~'~

Blair stepped out of the coach, then stopped, that strange need tugging at him again.  He knew there was something he needed to do...or to be doing...but what?

"Come along, dear, no time to lose!"  Flora pushed him forward gently, the other fairies fussing around him.

For once he ignored them, his mind intent on trying to figure out what it was he was supposed to do.

"Up the stairs, dear!"

Obediently, he hurried up the stone steps, barely hearing as Merryweather snootily informed the guards that they were all expected, and anyone waving pikes around would be turned into one.

Once inside the palace, the need grew stronger, and he hurried along the corridor, past a well-lit ballroom to the bottom of another flight of stairs.  His foot on the bottom step, he paused, suddenly unsure, but his guardians were there.

"Everything's fine, Blair.  You're doing perfectly."  Erato smiled at him, and he managed a half smile back.

"I...do I...?"

"Just go upstairs and kiss the prince awake!" Merryweather told him, attempting to smooth his hair down.

"Kiss?!"  That broke through the fog of confusion, and Blair stared at her, horrified.

"No, no!" interrupted Flora hastily.  "No kissing - that's an entirely different kind of story.  Just go upstairs and talk to him, dear."

"Oh, talk.  I can talk."  Blair heaved a sigh of relief.  As long as he didn't have to kiss the prince, he could talk until the cows came home.  He ran up the first few steps, then stopped as his guardians stayed where they were.

"Go on, dear," Flora urged him, the others murmuring their encouragement.  "It's for you to do it all now."

Clio smiled suddenly, though he could see the tears in her eyes.  "It'll be fine, Blair.  This is what you were meant for."

Even more unsure of what he was about to face, Blair continued up the stairs.  With each step, the need grew stronger, and he finally allowed his fears to fade and gave in to whatever was calling him so desperately.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, he dived past the worried-looking man waiting there and threw open the door, shrugging off the hand that grabbed at his shoulder as he rushed into the room.

The man on the bed didn't move, but the one beside the bed did, straightening up as his face twisted.  "Go away!"  He raised the pin, dripping with blood, and pointed it at Blair.  "This isn't for you!"

Furious, though he wasn't entirely sure why, Blair ran forward and pushed him away from the bed.  "Get away from him!"

"What have you done?  James?!"  The worried-looking man was there too, bending over the figure and attempting to shake it back into consciousness.

Blair glanced at him, then kept his eyes fixed on the loathsome man with the pin, determined to keep him away.

"He wouldn't wake up - he was supposed to wake up."  There was a definite petulant tone in the man's voice and he threw the pin to one side.  "Fine.  Cascade stinks, anyway!"

As the door slammed behind him, Blair turned back to the bed, then exclaimed, "Hey, Jim!"  It was a mystery to as to why Jim was lying on a bed in the palace while a maniac with a pin jabbed holes in his hand, but there he was.

The other man looked at him.  "You know my son?"

"Well, yeah.  He gave me a ride home.  I'm Blair, by the way."

The man, looking more confused than anything else now, shook his hand.  "William."

The intense need had calmed though Blair still felt the need to get closer to Jim.  As casually as he could, Blair sat on the end of the bed and waggled Jim's foot.  "C'mon, man, you got visitors."

"I don't think -"  William shut up suddenly as Jim yawned and opened his eyes.

"Father?  Blair!  What are you doing here?"

"Just passing.  And good thing too, man.  You need to be careful who you let in, you know?"

"Ow."

Blair watched as Jim raised his hand to his face and gazed at the streaks of blood.  "Yeah, ow.  Jesus, Jim, what were you thinking?"

"I guess I wasn't."

"Well, I'll go tell everyone the good news."  As Blair looked up at William wondering what the good news was, William smiled widely.  "The very good news.  Then I'll make sure the Lashes leave."

The door shut behind him, and Blair frowned and gazed at Jim, who shrugged.  "Don't ask me; I was unconscious."

~'~

Swinging his legs to the floor, Jim settled next to Blair and grinned at him, shoving him with his shoulder slightly.  "What are you doing here anyway?"

Blair looked confused.  "I'm supposed to go talk to the Prince but...."  His voice trailed off and he stared at Jim.

"That would be me."  Jim realised that he'd never actually told Blair who he was.  For some reason, he'd expected Blair to know - to know him.  Not because he was Prince James of Cascade but because...well, it was Blair.  How could Blair not know him?  Jim felt as if he'd always known Blair; he just hadn't met him before.

"Oh."  Blair didn't seem upset anyway.  "Okay."  They sat there in silence for a moment, then Blair asked, "Now what?"

"I've been thinking I should move back in.  Father seems a little...distracted.  It's probably due to all the stress - being King, being married to Mother.  So...you know, I'm gonna need help dealing with them."  He paused, then took the plunge.  "You want to move in?"  Jim really hoped Blair would say yes, if not, he was going to have to persuade his father to pass a decree preventing Blair from leaving.

"Okay."

Well, that'd save on paperwork.  "Great!  It'll give me a chance to meet Merryweather too, and the others."

Blair smiled, his face lighting up.  "I think you'll like 'em."

"I'm sure I will."  Jim stood, his hand automatically going to curve around Blair's arm.  "Let's go downstairs.  I'm sure that Father can't wait to introduce you around."

~'~

And so Jim, Blair, and all the natives of Cascade lived happily ever after.  William was glad to get his son back, the lords and ladies of the court were pleased to have more opportunities for dressing up in fine clothes and impressing their neighbours, and the ordinary people who lived in Cascade just got on with their lives and did their best to ignore whatever "that weird lot up in the palace" were doing now.

As for Maleficent, she didn't even notice that Jim had survived.  She'd left Cascade some time before to marry a widowed King in a faraway land, who had one daughter with hair as black as ebony and skin as white as snow.  Maleficent was enjoying playing Queen and stepmother, even though the child looked like a member of the Addams family.

The end

23rd August 2007