Boys. She won't dignify them with the title of men. Maddie is fuming as she stomps down the sidewalk. They even totally bought that I'm going shopping. Why would I go shopping in Cardiff? BOYS.
     Maddie fishes her phone out of her purse, eyes snapping as she stalks over to a bus shelter and flips the phone open. She calls the number on her speed dial - not that she's had to call it for a while. She's been with you all this time, after all. "God, Baz, I hope you're there..."

     Madison West
     The display shows your name even before your ringer (Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane) sounds. Balthazar smiles -- the first real smile in what feels like forever.
     "Hello, Maddie," the warmth of his voice carries through the line ... like magic. The reception is incredibly crisp and clear. "Where did you all decide to go?"

     She smiles, even if you can't see it. "Hi! We're in Cardiff. The guys are in a pub and I'm mad at them so I decided to call you instead. I'm a block or two from the car." Maddie glances to the side, then lowers her voice. "We had a - not a fight exactly, but a difference of opinions about the m stuff. Are you busy? I'm not calling at a bad time, am I?"

     M stuff. Cardiff?
     "You went all the way to Cardiff for a pub? Welshpool has at least five," he seems amused but at least it's an adventure. "And... no... it's not a bad time, Maddie," he half-purrs that. "I'm sorry that the adventure is hitting some turbulence. Is there something wrong or anything I can do?"

     She goes a bit pink as you purr. It goes right to the pit of her stomach. "Not unless you've got a way of picking me up. I mean, I can always call the guys from wherever. I just..."
     Dammit, Maddie, this is your one chance to sound like a grownup woman instead of a little girl, and you're messing it all up! But...
     "I miss you," Maddie confesses quietly, after another sly glance around to make sure nobody's in earshot. "And - I want you to help me. It's not an emergency, but ... I just, I need someone's help, I think, figuring stuff out. And Pres and Loki aren't any help. They're being such guys about it."

     "I can come get you," his voice is warm, assuring, and concerned. "I want to help you, of course. I'll do whatever I can, you know. I do have to be back by seven. Do you mind if I ... use somewhat less traditional means? If it will bother you, I won't of course."
     Balthazar rises from his seat on his large sultanic pillows, clothing himself with a thought to Cardiff weather and a need to be modest. It is the most clothes he's worn in well over twenty-four hours.
     "I know all this is... well, I understand that it's all a bit weird." There is a slight pause. "Tell me where you are and make sure to text your brother to let him know you're with me. I don't want him to worry that you're lost in Cardiff..."

     "I don't mind. Tradition, shmadition! Of course I don't mind." Maddie's mood brightens immeasurably. "It is weird, okay? But you're still you. And honestly, the stuff that's bugging me ... well, it's not you. I believe you'll love me no matter what, and I know I'll love you no matter what. But there's stuff that has to get sorted out, and ... I can't do that without you, or somebody, at least, to help me. 'Kay?"
     "I'll text him," she promises. "As soon as I hang up with you." So take THAT, brother dear.

     "I do love you," he quietly confirms. Emotion moves on air, carried by fire and sunlight, from Welshpool to Cardiff. "And.. I know... we have more to discuss, oes. Okay. I will be there in a moment."
     And he means that literally.
     As soon as the call is ended, he is crossing the street. It's nearly summer, but that doesn't mean it isn't a little brisk -- at least in comparison to, say, Los Angeles. He's wearing a pinstripe suit jacket with a pair of jeans and a layer of untucked broadcloth button-down and a t-shirt. The broadcloth shirt is white, the t-shirt red. His hair is getting more burnished, so much amber intermixed with cinnamon.
     Glancing this way and that before stepping into the intersection, Balthazar crosses the street (and miles and experience) to come to where you are standing.

     The text is sent; it's brief. Baz picking me up. C U @ castle. Nothing more needs to be said, right? Right? And she turns from the phone, hair whipping away from her face as she smiles up at you with blue eyes lighting right up.
     And, well, what follows next is surely forgivable on the grounds of youth and Americanness, right? Maddie gloms onto you in a big hug. "Hi!"

     "Hi," he says that most American of words softly, his arms coming around you as you stand on the sidewalk. Balthazar kisses the top of your head as he sways you back and forth in his hold. There is warmth and protection wherever he is. "I've missed you."
     Straightening and parting from the hold only enough so he can look at you, he lightly brushes your face with his hand, a tender motion that precedes a kiss.
     His lips are soft and warm. And the kiss is one that may be had in the middle of the street, in the middle of the day. "Are you ready? Do you mind if we take a slight detour? There's something I'd like to show you. I will warn you," Balthazar says with a bit of a lopsided smile, "... it is fantastic."

     "I missed you, too." She sighs, eyes closed, lips parting for the kiss. It is the seal that holds the world together, that kiss. Her arms go around your neck, and she dangles from your shoulders for a moment, leaning in to steal your warmth before brushing her cheek against your shoulder as she draws back. "I'm ready."
     Maddie straightens, grabbing your hand in her own with a quick smile as she peers up at you. "If it's fantastic, that's okay. You're fantastic, so it'll be a good match, right? Let's go. But can we get some chocolate ice cream on the way?"

     Turning, Balthazar takes your hand. "What sort of chocolate ice cream? Do you want gelato? Chocolate with hazelnut, cinnamon? Dark chocolate?" He has your hand. He walks across the street from you in the direction from which he came.
     And you are moving -- you are walking -- and then the Cardiff street unfolds like a flower, and you are walking with him along the balcony he showed you in his pictures. "If things are going to be weird, they may as well be completely, honestly weird," Balthazar says quietly, leaning against you as he walks. His clothing has not altered, nor has yours. The universe has, like the scenery of a play, changed from act to act.
     Out there, the coastal view he promised. It looks vaguely Mediterranean though you can tell by the mixture of Greek, Roman, Byzantine and even Babylonian influences that it is the Mediterranean only in one's dreams of it or as poets would have preferred it. You stand on a marble colonnade, high up in a white marble basilica. There are large comfortable sofas and chairs placed here, granted a view to be envied by all the world. However many worlds there may be.
     And there is ice cream...
     The air is unremarkable; it is air, though it is scented like the best fantasies of a Moroccan market. "I was sitting right there," Balthazar gestures to one of the arched openings along the colonnade, "...when I took the picture for you. My apartments are through these doors," he gestures to one set of three double-doors -- his are decorated red and gold. "It isn't heaven," he smiles a little. "So... don't worry. No judgements. No pearly gates. Have a seat," Balthazar murmurs. "And we'll talk about things..."

     "Chocolate with marshmallow ribbons," Maddie decides, walking with you and leaning in against your arm. She blinks a few times as the scenery alters, looking down at herself and then around. She looks at you, then at the scenery again. "Huh," she says thoughtfully.
     Not quite what she thought you meant. But it is, apparently, okay. She goes to take a seat, a bit gingerly, and nods at you. "Can we go to the market?"

     "I think we'll have time, sure," Balthazar says as he sits across from you. Chocolate with marshmallow ribbons -- you ask and he gives, two scoops in a bowl. He sits back with chocolate hazelnut gelato. "We haven't really talked about any of this, well, in depth. I'm sure you have questions. I don't want to just blab it all out in a torrent. Maybe we should play twenty questions for a bit. Anything you want to know, Maddie, I will tell you. Truthfully. Just," he smiles a little, licking the spoon, "...tell me when if it becomes too much. I don't have a good gauge for that sort of thing..."

     She looks more than just pleased with the ice cream, settling crosslegged in her seat with the bowl cradled to her chest with one hand. "I don't know," Maddie tells you. "I keep thinking, wow, I really should be more freaked out by this than I am - but I'm not." She shrugs. "It's not that it isn't weird, Baz. I mean, it's weirder'n snake shoes, as the saying goes. But ... really, what am I going to do about it, break up with you over it? Isn't that kinda like throwing the baby out with the bathwater?"
     She takes a spoonful of ice cream, licking it thoughtfully out of the bowl of the spoon. "You're a wonderful guy. You're smart, you're charming, you're thoughtful, you're sensitive, you're creative, you're handsome, you're amazing in bed," even if she blushes to mention it, tossing her hair and crinkling up her nose to hurry past it. "The Duke thing threw me off guard. This stuff... well, I can see why you didn't tell me. How could you tell me without me thinking you were completely cuckoo for cocoa puffs? Honestly, Baz, what I'm worried about is - well, I'm not that special."

     He actually blushes at the praise. He's not disingenuous about it; there's not false or faux bashfulness. Long lashes downsweep as he sucks the chocolate and hazelnut flavor from his bottom lip. Amber eyes lift, a look to you past those lashes. Balthazar smiles a little. "It is a bit hard to bring it up in polite conversation. It's sort of hard to know where to begin," he murmurs. "But... do you not think you are special? Your light, your laughter, your energy, your good heart, your compassion, your brightness and intelligence -- your willingness to look past the oddity to see the reality even within the magic and fantasy. Maddie, you are special, and you are special to me."
     Balthazar pauses a moment, mulling over his own thoughts as he takes another taste of the chocolate gelato. He sets it on the small table and sits forward, close to you. "I was worried... even before I met you... that I would always feel or seem or be strange, that I couldn't know what a so-called normal existence could be. You are worried that you are too normal or not special enough for this strange existence. But we're both wrong." He smiles tenderly at that. "I love you for who you are and who you are still becoming. Even as I hope you do the same for me. So, that makes us the same really. We're in the same place, even if it looks a bit different."

     Now it is her turn to blush; she reddens steadily, looking up at the ceiling. Anywhere but at you. She laughs. "You know what you want to do, though." Maddie allows herself to look at you, so close to her, and her expression softens, smiling staying but going a bit wistful. "You know what to do with yourself. I don't. I don't know how to fit into your life even if you were totally normal, Baz. I mean, okay, college - but it seems kind of pointless if I don't have a goal I'm chasing, doesn't it? Why waste my grandfather's money, my time and yours, just to - to fill in the blanks, mark pages until I have some kind of clue? That doesn't seem right to me."
     She lets her ice cream settle on her thigh, jiggling the bowl until it's stable. Leaning forward, she grabs your hand. "I want to be with you. But I want to be something better than just your girlfriend, the chick who's always hanging around the band. And I don't know how to, or what to, and that worries me. The magic is kinda weird, but ... this is what's going to make it really weird, and not work, if we don't keep an eye on it. So I need help."

     "I don't want your destiny to be my girlfriend," Balthazar says quietly, seriously. "In fact, one of the things I have insisted to everyone, my family and yours alike, is that you have the liberty to explore everything you wish to explore. I think it is important that you go to college, experience it, Maddie, and then grow from there. You need your passion, your dream. And whatever it is, if that takes you to the middle of the Congo chasing gorillas in the mist, then I'll learn to play African instruments. But the one thing I'm not going to allow you to do is to just follow me everywhere as a sort of attachment to my ....whatever."
     He is absolutely serious on that point, his hand holding yours, fingers steepling, then interlacing. The touch of your skin is electric to him. "I don't know much more about what I want than you do," Balthazar says with a smile. "I know where my talents are," he tries not to smile too widely at that, "... but....music is not the end point. It's just the vehicle. For what? I really don't know yet. That is being revealed. It's sort of like watching plants open to the sun in time-lapsed photography. I don't know what's going to happen. I just know that I'm becoming ... the ...embodiment of an ideal, I guess. Though that sounds both egotistical and bizarre, now that I hear it. At the end of this week, on Midsummer's Day, there's going to be a fruition of some kind. But I don't know what sort of fruit. Just like you... you know you're going to do something. You just don't know what it is yet. Mine just...looks a bit more weird is all..."
     Balthazar looks from your face to your hand, where it joins with his, a kind of maneuvering lovemaking. "You fit into my life naturally, no matter how supernatural the trappings. You .... inspire me, Maddie. To be a better person, a more compassionate being. You coax me out of my shell," he smiles. "I want you to be whatever and whoever it is you wish to be. You don't have to know that now. I don't know it now. I just want to love you while you look..."

     She watches you sidelong, holding onto your hand tightly, then nods. "Well, whatever it is, I'm with you," Maddie says stoutly. "I'm not that idealistic, though. I hope that's okay."
     The ice cream is set aside with a clank of spoon on bowl, bowl on floor as she rises to her feet and gloms you again, arms going around your neck as she jumps into your lap. "I don't think you have a shell. I think you just haven't figured out entirely who you are, is all. And that's okay, because neither have I. But I'm not into gorillas. Or Africa. Except for the surfing." She wrinkles her nose. "We need to talk more, at some point, about direction for me, but right now, I just want you to kiss me..."

     "If I kiss you, then we won't talk for a while. I know us," Balthazar chuckles. You sit on his lap and are surrounded by the warmth of Desire itself. It passes between you like delightful lightning crackling on the air between you. "We should talk," he tells that to himself as much as you. Arms around you, he holds you close, closing his eyes as the drug of you and It move through him. Want. Desire. Love.
     His wings unfurl. It is like the dropping of his pants. And they have changed. The are solar flares, great sweeping things that seem like arms of the sun more than what might belong to a very large eagle. His thighs shift, your seat (his lap) shifting for comfort's sake. Jeans were a mistake.
     "I haven't, no. Well...who or what," Balthazar opens his eyes, his voice dreamy, lyrical. He sighs, tipping his head back to get a breath of fresh air. He settles back in the chair, his legs spreading beneath you to give you more of his lap to lounge upon. "We need to be completely open and honest with one another. That is the only way. And we should talk about your brother and your sister, too," he notes.
     And just how do they figure into things, and why do they have to be discussed?
     "It is not going to get any less weird any time soon, I'm afraid. I wish I could tell you that it will settle down, but I think it's just getting started really. And I have a shell," Balthazar smiles, rolling his head against the sofa's cushion to look at you. "I sometimes detach when I am upset. I go into my little cocoon. You keep me from doing that. You keep me in the Present, Maddie. And I needed that today. I'm glad you called me. I need you now to really ask me things you need to know. I don't know where to start really. Are you... really okay with what I am? Are you frightened at all, beyond questioning your own specialness..."

     She closes her eyes, clinging to your chest for a moment, enjoying the chance while it lasts. "You're right," Maddie admits, "but that doesn't mean I have to be in a hurry to let go." She makes a face. "Why do we have to talk about Gillian and Pres? They make their own choices. They can cope."
     She isn't pouting. She's just a little cranky. They had their chance, right? She opens her eyes and she looks at you, shifting back and tilting her head back but remaining on your thighs. "I'm worried about the things I don't know," Maddie answers you slowly, "and how that might affect things in the future. I'm worried that I won't be what you need - that the differences won't help us to grow together. I want this to last. And I know I'm going to have to work at it. I'm okay with that. I've never been frightened of hard work as long as I felt I could do it and do it well enough to pass. There are things not worth bothering with, but I don't think this is one of them."
     She smiles at you, a bit wistfully. "I'm worried about stupid things, really. I don't really understand where you're coming from, and I want to. I'm worried you'll resent that, eventually. I'm wondering if we get to the point where we have kids someday, what are they going to be like? It sounds silly, but I'm probably not biologically set up to carry kids with wings. I'm worried about what I'm going to do, because I won't let myself be a leech on you, Baz. I can't. My self-worth won't stand it. I'm worried about ... well ... will you still like me, when I'm older, when I'm different from who I am now... because people do change, and I don't know how I'm going to change. I don't understand magic, Baz. But the weirdest thing I've seen so far has been wings. Okay, your family might be magic and stuff, but they act normal enough. Nobody's asked me to, like, drink virgin's blood out of a sacred cup or anything..."

     He holds you, though he does not kiss you. The hold alone is distracting enough. "Nothing is stupid, Maddie. Your worries are rational," Balthazar says, his words quiet and warm. "They are warranted, given what you see, what you know. First things first, I want you in my life for many years. As many as you will give me," he grins.
     He is quiet for a time. "There is really no way for me to explain this without sounding cuckoo for cocoa nuts," he sighs. "Or to answer your questions without giving you a bit of history first. Even with you sitting here, in this magical realm, it will sound a bit nutty. We are, right now, in a part of heaven," Balthazar tries to explain. "Where all the dreams of things, and poems, and stories, and myths and creatures, the dreams of histories real and imagined exist. We are not separate from the earth. Heaven and earth and hell are all the same place, part of the same universe. Like parallel universes... that's what they are, in fact. Time and space exist but function differently. Here, we could spend a whole week, and only miss maybe a minute or two in London or Boston, at the most. You know, like Narnia..."
     Drawing you to him, Balthazar does kiss you -- on your forehead as he cradles you closely. "There are kingdoms. Camelot. Tir Na Nog. Asgard. They are all here and many more, more than a thousand. My father is the king of all those kingdoms. My grandfather united them, my father has ruled them for more than forty years, and very soon my brother, Gruffydd, will become the High King of this never-never-land."
     His hand moves through your hair, against your scalp. He has to maintain the connection. "This weekend, on your birthday actually, I will become a ...well... a king of sorts myself. I won't be ruling a place per se, but rather a set of ideals that I will embody, specifically Love, Inspiration, Desire and Sex and Fertility. And as the embodiment of those ideas, I will have to try to serve some purpose in the universe. That's the part that I'm really uncertain about. I'm not sure what that will mean. And I don't know what that will mean, specifically, for you. All I know is that I belong with you." He closes his eyes, bending to whisper near your ear: "... and in you..."
     Tipping his head back, Balthazar looks at you, his expression serious but loving. "The reason I mention your brother and your sister is this: your family and my family seem to be on a collision course," Balthazar remarks quietly, warmly. "I am afraid things are and will be weird for a while. And while they can, no doubt, cope, I think you need to know what that means and what has happened. Loki is under the tutelage of my uncle Gwilym, my father's twin brother. Preston has been chosen by my brother, the future king of this place," he looks to you, a hand to your hair, "...to be his ...protege, I guess you could say. My uncle Bran, just a couple of years older than myself, is in love with Gillian. And he is proposing to her tonight. In fact, that is why I have to be back by seven. I'm... singing for the surprise proposal dinner. I wish it were simpler. I wish it were easier. You can't know how much I wish this could be less complicated."

     "I can deal with nutty," Maddie answers you stolidly. She lifts a hand to touch your cheek, comfortable in your lap - as comfortable as on a surfboard, she is surprised to realize. She doesn't say it out loud; she is growing up. "Okay. Heaven. Narnia. Stuff. Good to know we're not going to miss dinner."
     She can accept it because she has already accepted the innate oddity of being here, like this, with you. And if she can accept that, then the rest so far is peanuts. She looks at you, lifting her arms to fold them over her chest. "...Hm," she says finally, going pink at your whisper. "We don't have to have kids yet, right? Because I'm not ready for that."
     Wait a minute. Proposing? Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "He's going to do what?" Maddie squawks and almost falls off your lap. "Oh, lord. She's going to take his head off."

     You rattle it off: Okay. Heaven. Narnia. Stuff. And he has to laugh. It is funny. It is ridiculous. Balthazar shakes his head. "I don't know how you can deal with this so well," he chuckles. "I was expecting you to... I don't know... want to escape the fun-house." He breathes a sigh of relief, the tension leaving him.
     Balthazar smiles to watch you go pink. "No," he quietly confirms. "It is too soon for that. I'm not ready. And you need time to live your life and decide where you want to spend your passion and what you want to put your energy toward. Neither one of us are ready. We need to just... figure out who we are, who we want to be, and to enjoy ourselves.
     Your squawk shakes him from his reverie, his gaze traveling back up your form to your face from where they had wandered. "He is... but... I think she may surprise you. From what I understand, she's already accepted it in theory. Tonight, he is going to ... sweep her off her well-heeled feet. With my help, apparently. I was upset earlier, I just want you to know. But...not because she was moving on or anything like that. I was asked to serenade them and... I was feeling a bit... pissy really," he adds with a little smile, "...because when I thought of serenading someone I never expected it to be Gillian and Bran during their proposal dinner. But if you're there with me," his expression is hopeful, "... I will be able to sing to you. They will just be... eavesdropping."
     Finally, there is a kiss...
     Eyes closed in a sudden well of emotion, Balthazar lifts to meet your mouth. His lips coax your own, tugging them to part them. The parting is luxurious and deep, breaths shared. "I love you so much," he murmurs at your mouth, his nose brushing at your own. "I thank god you are so patient..."

     "Why would I want to escape? I'm still having fun." Maddie makes a face at you. She leans in, closing her eyes as you kiss her, putting aside issues of sisters and brothers and babies and magic and everything else to kiss you and kiss you properly.
     I love you...
     I feel right when I am with you... this is where I should be, this is where I want to be...
     Maddie sighs as she pulls away, licking her lips. "Can I be upstairs? Is there a balcony? Because I'd rather not be eating dinner with them or hiding in the bushes like I'm about to tackle them to stop them from making a mistake or something. Or you could be on the balcony with me, if there is one..."

     A lick of your lips and you taste like honey. "No balconies, sadly, the castle is too old for that. Balconies are nice, but not very defensible. But we can be out of sight of them -- I don't want to watch, particularly -- either above them on the first terrace, or below them on the second. I can mike myself. The bushes might not be a bad idea," Balthazar smiles, lashes sweeping downward as he half-masts his eyes, leaning up to kiss you again. "Even if they are nearby," he says in a hush between you, "... I doubt that I will see them. I will be looking at you."
     He is in this moment quite vulnerable. His heart is open for you to look at, to touch, to hold. He needs you with him tonight. He wants you with him tonight. He doesn't want to sing to anyone else. If you are there, he can pretend that you are the only one who can hear it.
     Balthazar brushes his lips to yours again, the residue of honey lingering. And a flood of warmth -- like love, like drunkenness -- moves through you both.

     She blushes for your hushed tone, and she has eyes only for you. She looks to you with her heart on her proverbial sleeve. "I love you," Maddie whispers, breathes it, trembling, "more than anything, Baz. I don't know how to tell you how much. I'm no good at this, you know..."
     I'm not a poet or a musician. I'm not special like that. I can sing, I can hear things, I can listen. But I'm not special enough, am I? But I love you...
     I love you...
     Her arms go round your neck and she pulls herself close to you, pulls you close to her. She closes her eyes and breathes out a tremulous sigh, not caring who hears.

     "We will come back tomorrow to see the market," he murmurs, his hands cupping you to him. "Right now," he breathes into the crook of your neck, what little air there is between you charged. It all but pops with the friction of the molecules of attraction, as he kisses and nuzzles your neck. "I want you," he says at your ear, leaving a kiss behind the last syllable.
     He was right about the kiss. He does know us.
     Balthazar's mouth feels its way to your own, the kiss spreading sweetly, slowly as his hands begin to unfasten and loosen your clothing. His mouth, his kiss, tastes of honey and cinnamon, his tongue deft and delighting in its golden roll within you. His wings are outspread, fire roiling galactic behind him, but as he flaps them slowly forward, Delight becomes Pleasure, Pleasure, Delight.
     The girls at your school would never believe it that you're dating a Cupid...

Posted by rowan at June 12, 2009 06:36 PM