Bed of Wild Roses

A great sadness came over Sayphon as he stood on top of the hill, his hand tightly clutched in Tyrus’. Far below the dragon raged, terrible and yet beautiful in all its destructive glory. Both, Sayphon and Tyrus did not say a single word as they watched their village burn, as the fire leapt from house to house, as flames danced upon roofs and stables, as elemental heat turned the only home they had ever known into a sea of dust and ashes. Sayphon’s heart beat heavily in his chest, the steady rhythm echoing like thunder in his ears.
“We have to help them!” Tyrus whispered in his ear, tugging shakily at Sayphon’s hand. “We have to do something!”
“We can’t.” Sayphon whispered back just as quietly. “If we go down there now, the dragon will get us too.” His heart ached for his people, his friends and family, as they tried to run from the beast’s fiery breath. One by one they were swallowed by the leaping, dancing red and yellow of the flames.

An eternity seemed to pass till the dragon finally desisted, finally leapt from the ground and threw itself into the air, leathery wings beating the winds and glimmering scales catching the sun. Dirt, ashes and half-burnt straw settled like a grey-brown blanket on the scorched earth. A blanket that was flecked with the glowing amber of almost-extinguished fire. Among the glowing amber and ashes the dirt rose to shape the faint outlines of fallen human figures.

“Look!” Sayphon whispered his voice filled with awe as he pointed at the nearest figure. “There!”
“Are they dead?” Tyrus asked, shivering as the last heat of the dragon’s rage slowly washed over them.
“I don’t know.” Sayphon shrugged. “Didn’t the old woman say something about dragon’s fire only putting people into a never-ending sleep?”
“But can’t we wake them up?” Tyrus asked, wrapping his arms around himself. “There has to be something we can do.”
“No,” Sayphon shook his head, “Not we.” He paused, sighing deeply. “But maybe the people from behind the well can.”
“The wee folk?” Tyrus asked incredulously. “I know we wanted to search for the well anyway but… do you really think they would help us?”
“We can only hope.” Sayphon shrugged once more. “There is nothing else we can do.”

They did not want to leave, everything within them was screaming at them to return to the village and do something – anything. Once more they turned, starting anew on the arduous journey through the still frozen woods and hills.

Sean leaned back, stretching over the back of his chair and sighing with relief as vertebra after vertebra popped into place with a soft crack. Well. He frowned at his typewriter. It was not up to his usual standards and it was most certainly neither well-written nor suitable for children, but that was what editing was for. He only needed to get the story out before he started working on it. His grimace became almost painful. Or asked someone to beta-read it. He was still too agitated by his fight with Viggo. He doubted that there was any chance of reconciling himself with his agent. Too much had been said. Sean smirked at his story. And every time he had caught himself thinking about Viggo while writing, the dragon’s description had become more terrible. Which was why he had crossed out most of it right after writing it. Well. It seemed as though the break-up with his agent had been good for something after all. Not that Viggo would appreciate it if he ever found out.

Sighing he turned, craning his neck to look at the small grandfather clock on the window-sill, the only clock he allowed into his study. After making sure that it would never, ever strike again. Unless someone re-inserted the gong. Wow. It was only just past eleven. He had certainly written a lot of crap for such a short period of time. Karl would probably be still awake. He groaned, wincing as he let his head fall onto the table. Dared he spend time with Karl or had he already suffered enough humiliation for one day? Especially since some subconscious part of him seemed determined to embarrass him by saying the most stupid things at the most inappropriate times. Tea, he decided, pushing himself to his feet. Tea was always good. Especially when he needed something to keep his hand, and hopefully his mouth as well, occupied.

~***~


Sean smiled, gingerly taking a sip from the steaming mug. Karl was completely engrossed in the book he was reading. Curled up on Sean’s sofa, staring intently and the all too quickly turned pages and smiling or frowning at the book every now and then Karl was the perfect picture of relaxation and bliss. A soft chuckle from Karl drew an answering smile from his lips. It would be interesting to know what the other man was reading, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not make out the cover. Whatever it was it had too be good. If it was not it would not manage to capture Karl’s attention so completely. He had never seen Karl this quiet and concentrated. Granted, he had only known the other man for a bit more than a day but he already knew a lot about him – including the fairy delusions, if they were, in fact, delusions – and Karl’s somewhat quirky personality made it impossible not to get to know him rather quickly.
He knew that Karl was a vegetarian, that he had the strange habit of putting flowers, herbs and probably a lot of other things he would rather not think about into his food. He was also charmingly naïve and fun to be with. Sean sighed, his smile tinged with a hint of sadness. And, judging by what had almost happened when Viggo walked in, his attraction to Karl clearly was not completely one-sided. Even if the other man insisted on hiding behind the fairy stuff.

“Sean?”

He blinked, stepping back as he found Karl not only looking back at him but also standing right in front of him. “Yes?”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” Sean frowned, tightening the hold his shaking fingers had on the mug. “Why shouldn’t it be?” He smiled weakly as Karl raised an eyebrow at him. Seemed like was not exactly sounding convincing.

“Because you were staring at me with a rather blank expression for quite some time.”

“I was?” He had been? “Oh, well,” Sean forced a hand to let go of the mug, scratching his head. He had to think of something! Now! Why was his brain always refusing to co-operate when he needed it most? “I, um,” he gestured vaguely into the direction of the book Karl was still holding, “I was wondering what you were reading.”

“Oh.” Karl frowned as he looked down on the book, turning it around.

Sean chuckled as he finally recognized the colourful cover. Of course. Terry Pratchett. Somehow even that suited Karl.
“So,” he gestured at the book again, “What do you think of it?”

“It’s funny.” Karl shrugged. “And entertaining.”

“Yeah.” Sean grinned, finally relaxing against the doorframe. “Sorry for interrupting your reading.”

“No, it’s okay.” Sean’s stomach gave a little somersault as Karl smiled at him again. Damn. “It’s not exactly a book you have to concentrate on. Not like…” he trailed off.

“Not like?” Sean prompted? Just what had Karl been about to say?

“Never mind.” Karl smiled somewhat nervously. “I think I didn’t really know what I wanted to say anyway.”

“Ah.” They lapsed into silence, still smiling softly as they faced each other. The ticking of the clock and the beating of his heart were incredibly loud in Sean’s ears. Surely Karl had to hear it as well?

“Well.” Karl grinned shakily, probably embarrassed by the prolonged silence. “I’ll go back to reading then.”

“Sure.” Sean nodded. “Would you mind if I,” he nodded at the couch, “Join you?”

Karl’s grin became brilliant once more. “No, not at all.”

Hiding a little sigh of relief behind a small yawn Sean snatched a book from the shelf and settled on the other end of the couch. Frowning he looked down at the book he had grabbed. Dean Koontz’s Winter Moon. Oh well. It would have to make do.

~***~


Well. Sean frowned at the last few paragraphs of the book. Somehow he had not remembered how dark parts of the book were. How depressing. Even if it had a happy end. At least sort of. Sighing he closed it, shaking his head. Surely, if this was okay for a teenage audience, even his darker books could be considered suitable for children of maybe seven or eight years? And if they were, did that mean that Viggo had just been rejecting his last books because he believed that they did not fit in with Sean’s image? A bitter smile curled Sean’s lips. Or rather with the image Viggo wanted Sean to have. Damn. He shook his head. He really needed to clear his mind. Soon.

He frowned as he finally noticed the warm weight on his legs. Ah fuck. Where was the wall to bang his head against when he really needed it? Karl had fallen asleep. Which would not have been even half as bad, or disturbing, he added dryly, if Karl had not at some point drifted towards him and ended up stretched out over half of Sean’s leg. Sean frowned. Had he really been so enthralled with the book that he had not even noticed Karl using him as some sort of pillow? And just why had he been stupid enough to stretch out his legs on the couch anyway? He should have known better. Maybe… no. He immediately stilled again as Karl mumbled something, turned and wrapped an arm around his left knee. So much for getting up without waking Karl. Fuck. Seemed like the only thing he could do was try to get comfortable. Unless he wanted to wake Karl. Which would probably result on yet another awkward conversation.

Sighing Sean let the book drop to the floor, wincing as Karl muttered something under his breath. If they were going to have an awkward conversation again they might as well do it in the morning, when he was actually awake enough to deal with it. He smiled as he burrowed deeper into the cushions, desperately trying to find an at least remotely comfortable position without waking Karl. The other man actually looked extremely cute. One of Karl’s arms was still wrapped around Sean’s knee and his head was pillowed on Sean’s calf, a tiny trickle of drool dribbling softly into the fabric of the jeans. Asleep he seemed even more innocent than Evie. Sean frowned, wondering if Abigail had ever looked that peaceful when she had been asleep. He could not remember. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it was a Karl thing.

He had never been that happy to have had a snapper attached to the main lamp in the living room. Actually Abigail had insisted on it because it had made switching off the lights much easier when they had settled down in front of the fireplace. Snapping his fingers two times he turned off the light, his breath catching as his gaze returned to Karl.

Moonlight was spilling into the room, softening the shadows as it painted everything with a soft, pale silver-blue hue. The cold light seemed to shimmer where it hit Karl’s back, outlining something that almost looked like…
Sean frowned, shaking his head violently. It could not be. Wings? He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again everything was just as it should be. No more shimmering wings and glittering moonlight. Seemed like his mind had been playing tricks on him again. Sighing he drifted off into sleep.