FirstLineFiction beta

from Contest #6

Almost everyone thought the man and the boy were father and son. This was not the case, however; it was simply easier for them to act this way, easier than to explain their complicated relationship. 

The man, Harry, mused over this, what he had here and now, and his past, as the boy bounded up the driveway, wrapping his 'father' in a hug. For a fifteen-year-old, Alex was exceptionally clingy, but Harry wouldn't have it any other way. Instead, he hugged him back; the neighbors were watching, he knew, and they had to make the act convincing.

He herded Alex through the front door, locking it as the boy shed himself of the bookbag, letting it fall to the floor. 

"Get to the Safe Place," he hissed quietly. "I'll bring you a snack."

Alex nodded and moved off, heading to the laundry room first. He shed his clothes and shoved them in the dryer on high for a few minutes. Then, he grabbed a completely different set and headed towards his room. 

'Precautions,' his mother always used to say. He hadn't known what that had meant until he had stopped. And then, it was too late. Why had he been targeted? He'd never know. The only ones that knew for sure were the members of the Grand Royalty, head of the fae court that had taken him. Hell if he was going back, ever. 

Perhaps they had simply seen a pretty face among humans and taken it at that. Perhaps that was all the reason they needed. 

He never would have survived without Harry, he was sure. He owed the man everything, for his life, for his escape.  

Alex bolted and locked his door, crossing the room to sit on the bed. He had homework to do, but he didn't dare take his bookbag into the room with him, his 'safe place'; too easily could Sprites grab hold of tiny threads. Iron bars covered the walls, making it appear like a giant cage. He didn't mind; his prison in the fae court, gilded as it was, was worse than the dark room, windows covered in dark red curtains and crossed with even more iron bars. 

"Alex," the call came a few minutes later. "Open the door, will you? This tray is heavy."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, I'm coming," he replied with a sigh, getting up to walk over to it. Standing behind the safety of the door, he swung it open to admit Harry. 

"I seem to have forgotten the milk," Harry added hesitantly. "Would you run to the kitchen to get it?"

Alex nodded, and grabbed a steel blade, just in case, and stepped into the hall. He looked around suspiciously at the empty kitchen, holding the knife tighter as he opened the fridge and pulled out the plastic jug. 

"You've given us quite the run, you know," a deep voice spoke from behind him. The plastic jug crashed to the floor. "You and...Harry? Is that what he goes by now?"

Alex whirled around, taking in the pale face, the long white hair of the slender figure. It was a Sidhe, he thought immediately, and a sense of impending doom fell around him. If it was a Sidhe, they were in deep trouble. 

Harry must have known. He had to have known, had to have let the monster in...what had the fae offered his benefactor, to convince Harry to betray him like that?

"Why can't you just leave us alone?" the boy hissed angrily, imagining himself plunging the knife into the fae's stomach. 

"We can't do that, Alex," the fae replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You're one of us now, whether you want to be or not," the mysterious Sidhe warned. "You ate the food, you danced for us...you have the Sight. We cannot let you go."

"I can't go back there," he whispered, panicked, more to himself than the fae in front of him. "I can't..."

"No," the fae agreed, to Alex's surprise. "I think that would be too cruel, even for us. I came to make you an offer."

"What offer?" Alex asked suspiciously. 

"We will allow you to live your life, with your...manservant...providing that you return to court at the Fall and Winter Solstices for the next 100 years," he explained simply. 

"What?" Alex didn't understand. Why would the fae change his mind like this? It was an olive branch that he was hesitant to take, though he would be all alone now. He could never trust Harry again.

"You would be my personal servant for the Solstices," he elaborated. "Be subservient, show me the respect a Prince deserves...and above all, do everything I say without question. Two nights a year for the next hundred years, and you will be free to live as you wish."

"What's the catch?"

There was always a catch, Alex knew. Always. But for the life of him, he couldn't see one. It was most likely in the duties, of course; yet Harry had explained his duties well to the boy. 

The fae smiled, not answering.

"Do you accept?" he pressed.

Should he accept? Should he not? No, that was not the question...the question was, would he rather be a servant than a dancer?

"Yes."

back to Contest #6