Hubble Bubble - 9. Chapter 9

Outside the air is fresh and fragrant, the scent of honeysuckle and lavender prevalent. I ask the waiter from whom I take and quickly drain a glass of champagne, and he directs me to the walled garden. It isn’t far and it is a beautiful night.

As I walk I mull over the events of the evening my head spinning. What a surprise, no shock, and what the hell does it mean for us, for Nick and I? Fuck... he is a Prince for gods sake, and not only that but the Crown Prince of the whole of the Summerlands. A faery prince if ever there was one. And what am I? Nothing.

My mind wanders back to the moment in the prison chamber when I kissed Nick. I had felt like Prince Charming, waking my Sleeping Beauty. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I am so lost in thought that, not only do I not realise when I reach the garden but I also do not realise that I am neither the only nor the first person there. The first I know that I am not alone is when I hear the soft sounds of someone crying. Oh great; now what have I walked into? I am about to walk back out again when I turn a corner, well I have to look don’t I, and see the huddled shape slumped on a stone bench, the familiar mask discarded on the floor at his feet.

“Ariel?”

He looks up as I approach and say his name. His face is puffy and blotched with crying but, in the pale moonlight, it is so ephemerally beautiful I have to resist the temptation to reach out and touch it. Even in this light his eyes are very blue and they seem enormous, swimming with tears. He looks as though he has been crying for a long time.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

He gives a strange little hiccup and shakes his head, although he does sit up straighter and makes some attempt to wipe his face on the sleeve of his jacket. It is such a childlike gesture that it makes me smile. Ariel misreads the look.

“Don’t mock me Sam. Please. Whatever else you do to me please don’t laugh at me.”

“Ariel, I wasn’t laughing at you it’s just... it’s just you looked so... so sweet, it made me smile. I wasn’t mocking, honestly.”

He looks doubtful but nods then turns his head away. I sit on the bench next to him. We are under a lilac tree and the scent is so strong it makes my head spin. I touch his shoulder and he shrinks away so I remove my hand and turn to stare into the pool at the centre of the garden. Silvery shapes dance under the surface, playing hide and seek beneath the lily pads. In my world I would have assumed they were fish: in this world it is not safe to assume anything.

“Did you know?”

“Know? Know what?”

“About Nick. Did you know that the Queen is claiming he is her son?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I could not.”

“She ordered you not to?”

“Yes.”

We are both silent for a time, watching the moonlight on the water and the silvery shapes beneath it. My mind is as quicksilver and slippery as any of them, thinking of things to say and discarding them before they ever reach my lips.

“I would have told you if I could.” The words are very soft and I know they are heartfelt.

“I know. So who is his father? The King?”

“There is no king. There is only ever one ruler; that is the way it has always been. Divided rule never worked.”

“I can see the sense in that.”

“I do not know who his father is. The Queen says it is the shapeshifter who fathered Lucifer but he has not been seen here for many years, perhaps he is dead. It could have been anyone. In these things, in her position, it is irrelevant.”

“I’m sure it won’t be irrelevant to Nick.”

“Perhaps.” He looks uncomfortable.

A though occurs to me. “She called him Nicholas The Rainer, not Nicholas Rayner. Why?”

“It is a title. The title of the Crown Heir. ‘The Reigner.’ So it has always been.”

“And one day he will reign? He will be King?”

“Yes, one day.”

“And until then?”

“He will be given lands to rule, a place at court, sitting at the Queen’s right hand. I suppose you would call it... learning rope.”

“Learning rope? Oh, you mean learning the ropes.”

“I suppose.”

I can’t ask him the question that is burning my mind, the question that has been squeezing my heart ever since I learned that Nick was fey.

“She does not want you to stay here with him. That is why...” His voice cuts off, choked, and suddenly I realise.

“That’s why she keeps sending you to me. She wants you to seduce me away from him.”

“Sam... that’s not...”

“How dare she? How the hell dare she do that to me... to you?”

Ariel looks half terrified and half distraught. He puts a hand on my arm as if he thinks I am going to go tearing off to confront the Queen. Actually I do have half a mind to do just that but, even in my anger I realise that it is the last thing that I should do. It would only cause more problems; for Nick, for Ariel, for all of us.

I am not proud of it but as I realise I can’t take my anger out on the Queen I turn it on the only person I can take it out on.

“And what about you?”

“Me? I... I don’t understand.” He turns those great puppy eyes on me and suddenly I want nothing more than to hit him and keep on hitting him until the guilt, the fear, the helplessness fades. Before I know it I have my hands around his throat pinning him to the back of the seat.

“Is that what you were doing? What you have been doing all along? Have you been working for Her? Have you been trying to seduce me, to turn my own feelings against me, my guilt for what I have done to you? Have you been playing with my emotions, trying to wean me away from Nick?”

I expect him to fight me, to struggle, to deny everything, to shake his head, to at least try and argue his way out, but he doesn’t. He lies quiet under my hands; his lips parted, his eyes wide, accepting. Tears roll down the sides of his face and he tries to swallow but he can’t because I am gripping his throat too tightly. Eventually he manages to croak.

“I...I... don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes, tears dewing his lashes, shining like diamonds in the moonlight. I am so angry I want to squeeze until the trembling of his lips ceases and the tears fall no more. I want to squeeze out the pain, the anger, but he makes a sound, the softest whimper and I can't. I release him and turn away.

“What do you mean?”

For a moment he is silent. I half expect him to run, but he doesn’t and in a moment he speaks, his voice hoarse and hesitant.

“She told me to; after the first time, when she found out what had happened to me. Lucifer told her... that I kissed you and... she told me to... to make you fall in love with me. She wanted me to charm you, to bewitch you, to use magic, anything I could. I... there was a part of me that wanted to, a part that needed to, that needed you but...” He sighs and swallows painfully. I glance up and he is massaging his throat where the red marks left by my fingers are standing out livid against the pale skin.

A wave of guilt sweeps over me but I brush it aside. I cannot afford to have finer feelings for this creature, not now. And then I meet his eyes. The pain I see there, the confusion, it is indescribable.

“I’m sorry Sam. I should have told her no. I did try to but she swept me aside and... to be honest, I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else doing it. I was so desperate to see you, to be near you, that I agreed. I would have agreed to anything for a moment in your presence.

“I know I am sounding like a lovesick fool and Lucifer has scorned me for that often enough but... but I don’t care. I DO love you. I know that I am new to all of this, that these emotions that pierce me like knives are uncontrolled and raw, that I can learn to handle them but... but...” He struggles for a moment then slumps, defeated and helpless. “I love you Sam.”

It is that simple; just four words, and all the pain and anger disappears. There is so much behind the words, so much suffering; so much weariness; so much pain. I can’t be angry with him any more. He is as much a victim in all of this as any of us, more so. He is innocent, so very, very innocent. Suddenly I can’t believe what I have done and the pain of that is so much worse than anything that has gone before.

“Ariel, I’m sorry. I am truly, truly sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It’s just... it’s all been so crazy. In my world it has only been a week; a week in which my entire world has been turned around and then turned again. Nick was dead to me, and then he wasn’t. I spent three days in a hell of anticipation and then another three with him there and... and I... and then... today, to find out this... this... bombshell. That’s it; I feel shell shocked. Too much has happened in too short a time and I can’t process it. I have been more afraid, more happy, more... alive... this last week than I think I ever have, but it’s taken its toll and my nerves are shot to hell. I just can’t take any more.

“I shouldn’t have taken this all out on you. It’s the Queen I am angry at, not you. She is the one who has played us and manipulated us... me. I feel like a fool, like a naive, blind, stupid fool who walked into every trap she laid before my feet and thanked her for it afterwards.”

I look up and Ariel has gone very still. He is staring at me as though he is afraid... not afraid that I will go for his throat again but afraid I will hurt him in other ways. He is trembling and that is the only movement about him at all, he does not even seem to be breathing. I ache to reach out to him, to touch him, to comfort him but that would be a very bad idea.

“But you... you have never been anything but sweet and gentle and you have never done anything to hurt me, quite the opposite. You are the innocent one in all of this Ariel and I am so sorry that I have hurt you so much. I never meant to. I... I think Nick was right. I should have closed my heart to you sooner. It would have been kinder on us both.”

“Have you Sam? Have you... closed your heart to me?”

A voice deep inside is whispering to me that I should be careful, very careful. This is dangerous, really dangerous. But the moon is so bright, and Ariel is so beautiful, perhaps there is a spell here although I am fairly sure it is not of Ariel’s making... or perhaps the magic is just in the setting, the fragile purity I hold in my hand and cannot bring myself to crush.

Whatever it is, it makes me slide across the seat and reach out to touch him. I run my hand over his hair and touch the angry red marks on his throat. He winces slightly but I do not know whether that is because it hurts him or if the pain is off a different kind. He is cold, so cold and so pale that, but for the pulse that flutters beneath my fingers I could have believed he was dead. It reminds me that he is not, precisely alive either, not like, not like Nick.

I drop my hand and turn away. “I should. I should harden my heart and send you away, far away. It would be better for both of us if I never saw you again.”

“Is that what you want?” The words are a hoarse, bitter whisper and they settle like acid rain, deep into my heart, corrosive, burning. I think of the prospect, of never seeing his face, never hearing his voice, never feeling the touch of that cool hand.

Almost automatically I shake my head, biting my lip. I am doing a bad thing, I know that, a very bad thing but I am helpless, I cannot bear to let him go.

Ariel slides off the seat and kneels on the floor looking up at me, one hand resting lightly on my knee.

“I couldn’t bear it if you sent me away Sam. It has been so hard for me. The Queen has been constantly pressurising me to come to you, to seduce you, and Lucifer... Lucifer has been taunting me, mocking me because I have not been able to do that, not in the way she wants, that she commands. I have been in torment. I...” He licks tears from his lips and his hand flutters briefly to his ribs.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I threw myself into the war wanting to die, wanting to be hurt... and I was. I was hurt but... never badly... never badly...enough. There were so many times when... I faced extinction and I welcomed it but somehow...”he sighed deeply, looking away. “Somehow it never happened. Something always came to the rescue...often it was Lucifer, not because he was heroic, not because he cared for me, but because he wanted another stick to beat me with, another reason to despise me, another way to hurt me.

“He mocked me all the time for how weak I am. He says that only the weak and foolish would allow emotion to destroy them in the way I have. He says that I am a worthless creature and that I deserve everything that comes to me.”

“Lucifer is an idiot. What does he know? He’s never felt an honest emotion in his life. Don’t let him get to you. He knows nothing.”

“No... he’s right. He’s cruel but he’s right. I am weak and foolish. I should have put distance between us right at the start. I should have told the Queen that I was not prepared to assist her... but the truth was that I wanted the pain. Sometimes I welcomed it. I am a creature made of emotion Sam. For all my life, and you know it has been a long one, I have watched the emotions flow through me, over me, around me. I have watched others experience them but they have never touched me for more than a fleeting moment.

“I have never felt the depths of despair that I have these last months but then, I have never felt the soaring joy at the thought of seeing you, the anticipation of the first glance, the exhilaration of every touch. I have lived more since I have met you than in all the years that came before.

“I am tired Sam, these feelings that you wear like nothing more than a cloak to be laid aside when they are worn and of no more use, weigh heavy on my shoulders and I cannot lay them aside. I am tired and I want to sleep, to sleep without dreams, to rest without pain. I sought oblivion but all I found was misery and the knowledge that I am not ready to face death, not like that. I am afraid to die Sam, with all this going on inside me. I am too tired to live, too scared to die. I am lost.”

I lay a hand on his head and stroke his hair. He bends low, resting his face on my thigh and begins to weep. He does so silently and in stillness but I feel the strength of the emotion flow through him and pour out of him. I don’t know what to do, what to say, so I say nothing, just keep on stroking him.

After a while he looks up and his face is, if that could be possible, even paler than before, translucent under the moonlight, a picture of misery, his eyes washed out and so weary they tear at my heart.

“Ariel, I don’t want to hurt you. The last thing I want is to hurt you. I would never, ever have wanted you to feel like this because of me. If things were different... if I could turn back the clock...”

“You would have let me die?”

That brings me up short. “No. I couldn’t have... I would never have let you die.”

“Why?”

“Because... because there was... there was... something. I... from the first moment I saw you there has been... something. I already cared. I could not have let you die.”

“I wish you had.” The words were soft and without inflection. He was not trying to be dramatic or for effect or to get a reaction from me. It was a fact, pure and simple. He meant it.

“I know you do and I am sorrier about that than about anything that I have ever done, or that has ever happened to me in my life. I wish things could have been different. I wish it with all my heart. But it is as it is. I can’t change anything. I can't stop you feeling the way you do and I can’t stop feeling the way I do.”

“How do you feel? Do you care? Do you care for me at all... a little?”

“I care for you a lot Ariel. If I didn’t care this would not be hurting me so much. If I didn’t care I would have sent you away, I would have turned my back and hardened my heart and I would not be here with you now.”

A fire kindles somewhere deep behind his eyes and I almost groan aloud. Nick you are so wise. Why don’t I listen to you more often? “But that’s not a good thing Ariel. Not for me, not for you. There can never be anything more than friendship between us. I can offer you that but it will never be enough for you.” He flinches as if I have struck him and tries to turn away. I hold him by the shoulders and make him look at me.

“As long as you are near me you will always hope that our friendship can be more, and you will suffer unbearable pain because it can’t be. It would be cruel to both of us to let that happen. Do you understand that?”

He just stares at me and the anger flares again. I shake him, more roughly than I should have and his face twists with pain. “Do you?”

“Yes, “ he gasps and, as I release him he pulls away so that he overbalances and falls backwards and sideward, crashing down onto the low wall that runs around the pool. For a moment I pause, waiting for him to get up so I can offer my hand. But he doesn’t get up. He doesn’t move at all.

“Ariel? Ariel, are you alright?”

When there is no movement I drop to my knees beside him. I touch his shoulder. “Ariel?” Brushing the hair away from his face I can see that his eyes are closed. “Ariel, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Slowly I slide my hand under his head and feel something wet and sticky. I pull back my hand, shocked that the fingers are red.

“Oh my gods, what have I done? Ariel? Ariel, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I had forgotten how light and fragile he is, especially when he is unconscious. I lift him in my arms and cradle his head on my shoulder as I brush back the hair. He must have hit his head on the wall as he fell. The cut doesn’t look too bad, although it is bleeding quite a lot, cuts on the head always do, it’s because there is a copious blood supply to feed the hair follicles. Strange the things you remember at such times.

“Ariel.” My heart is thumping. I am terrified that I have really hurt him. After everything, after all he has been through; the thought that I may have hurt him badly is unbearable. I am so relieved when his eyelids flicker and slowly he blinks open his eyes and stares at me, dazed and utterly confused.

“What...” His voice is a croak and he licks his lips and tries again. “What happened?”

“You fell. Are you alright?”

“I think so.” He tries to sit up but sinks back with a groan, one hand pressed against his forehead. “I feel dizzy.”

“It’s alright. Just rest for a minute and you’ll be fine.”

He turns his face into my shoulder and closes his eyes. I am afraid again because he feels so light, so fragile, so much so that I am afraid to hold him too tightly in case I break him. He is still for a while then he sighs and pushes away from me.

“I’m alright. Help me up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just help me up.”

I get to my feet and hold a hand out to him. He takes it and struggles to his feet. Almost immediately he sways and I throw my arm around him just in time. He sags against me, his head heavy on my shoulder and I guide him to the seat where we both sit heavily.

“I’m alright. Leave me alone.”

“Ariel, just take a minute. You hit your head, you were unconscious. Please just rest until you are stronger.”

“I’m alright.” He pushes away but sways and his eyes flicker.

“Woah. Ariel, you are going to pass out. Just sit quiet for a minute. Stop being so stubborn.”

He stops trying to pull away and freezes, staring at me with a deeply confused expression in his eyes, overlaying the pain that is now permanently resident there. He looks so lost, so helpless and so hurt I have no choice but to take him in my arms. He is stiff at first then melts with a sigh. He tilts his head to look up at me and for the longest moment we just stare into each other’s eyes.

It seems as if time stands still. All sound is gone, bleached from the air, as the colour has bleached from Ariel’s face. Even his eyes are so pale they are almost white. The only colour is in the bright splashes of red that spatter the shoulder of his white jacket. Even the blood in his hair is dark, colourless.

“Ariel...”

He lifts a finger and touches my lips, shaking his head slightly and lets his hand lie against the side of my face. I am lost in him. The emotions that I have been feeling, that came to a head when I realised he was hurt sweep through me and my defences are swept away. I love Nick. I know that. I love him with a passion and I will never betray him. It will never go any further than this and both Ariel and I know it and yet... in that moment, that sweet, chaste moment there is a connection between us that goes deeper than any I have ever known.

Ariel looks very dazed still. His eyes are heavy and I think he is about to pass out again so I tighten my arms around him, pulling him closer. He smiles faintly and blinks, shivering.

“Are you alright? Do you feel ill?”

“I feel... I...” His words were so low that I bent close to hear more clearly. I am so intent on him that I don’t hear the footsteps approaching. I don’t hear the low voices. I don’t hear the first soft exclamation.

“Sam?”

I look up to see Lucifer’s grin and Nick’s stricken expression. The word is a strangled exclamation of pain and it tears at my heart. Even now, even with Ariel in my arms and his blood on my fingers, even now there is no one and nothing that has life within this garden but him. There is no one I care abut more than him.

“Nick.” I wan to get up and run to him but Ariel has not moved and is a dead weight in my arms. I think that he might have passed out but when I glance down his eyes are open, looking up with little comprehension. “Ariel, can you sit up. I need to... Ariel.”

Ariel turns his head slowly to look at Nick and seems to understand because he makes a valiant attempt to sit up but it seems that all his strength is gone and all he can do is throw his arm around me.

“Nick...” I begin to worry that he might get the wrong impression and I look up at him but the place where he was is empty. Lucifer remains, grinning as always, a look of triumph in his eyes. “Don’t just stand there help me.”

“You seem to be doing very well by yourself.”

“You idiot, he’s hurt.”

“Hurt? What has that damned fool boy been up to now?” The mockery was still there but his face has softened slightly.

“He fell, hit his head. Lucifer please, I have to go after Nick. Please help me.”

Lucifer gave an exaggerated sigh but nevertheless he takes Ariel out of my arms and even speaks gently to him as he does so. Ariel blinks heavily but seems to be coming more back to himself. I leave him with Lucifer and run back along the path towards the castle. There is no sign of him.

When I reach the castle there are people everywhere. Music spills out with the light and there is laughter and singing. I push through the milling crowds and into the ballroom where couples are dancing, masked and anonymous. More than half of the dancers are wearing black and almost all of them have black feathers in their masks. It seems an impossible task.

Then something catches my eye. A dancer. He is wearing a silver suit, with dull gold trim and a mask that is in the shape of some weird bird, its beak picked out in gold sequins and its plumage multi coloured feathers. He is not dancing with a woman but with another man, a man dressed all in black, a man whose head rests on his shoulder as he holds him close and spins him about the room. There is something wrong with the scene. Something subtly not right. The crowd closes and I lose them but suddenly I am afraid.

Desperately I fight my way through the crowd towards where I last saw the man in the silver suit. When I get there they are gone. I look around desperately but I can’t see them, I can see nothing but whirling bodies, sparkling gems and feathers.

I feel like I am swimming against the tide, a tide that wants to sweep me up and away in its waves, its dance. The music swells and fades and swells again and the dancers keep in spinning, spinning, spinning.

And then I see it, a flash of gold. I elbow people out of the way twisting and turning through the press. The dancers part and I have a clear view of them. I have no doubt. It is Nick. No one else here is wearing leather trousers. Why is he dancing with that man? Why is he so close? Why does he have his head on his shoulder? Is he trying to make me jealous?

Before the crowd closes between us I drag my eyes away from Nick to study his dance partner. My heart goes cold and thunks like a brick in my chest when I see the bouncing yellow curls. Nick’s hair has come loose of the ribbon and the man is stroking it. The gesture is so intimate and yet it seems obscene.

“Oh my god. Nick! Nick be careful. He’s.... it’s...”

The crowd gathers, the music swells and my voice is lost in it all. I push frantically towards where they were but, of course, they are no longer there. What the hell is Nick doing with that man? Oh my god... perhaps I should be wondering what that man is doing to Nick. Suddenly it hits me what had seemed so wrong. Nick wasn’t dancing. Nick was following, he was moving but not consciously. “Oh my gods. Nick. I have to get to Nick.”

In desperation I find that I am near a table and I get up onto it. I scan the crowd and I see the flash of silver and gold, over near the door. They are no longer dancing. The man has his arm around Nick whose head still rests on his shoulder. He is still following, reacting, walking as though in a dream. They are going outside, into the garden. Where is he taking him, what is he going to do to him.

I have to get to them. I have to stop this, whatever is happening. How could they have let this happen? How could they have let that man get in here, into the heart of their home? How could they have let him take Nick again? How could I?