Fic: When You Find Me There [You'll Search No More] (1/2)

[non_tiembo_mala]

Jared paces his chambers, one hand on his hip while the other alternates between passing through his hair or dragging down his face. He huffs, frustrated, and sighs, long and weary, as his eyes land on the stolen gemstone where it currently rests on his pillow. The warm light from his roaring hearth catches in it, enhancing the jewel’s natural sparkle. It’s a deep, midnight blue and it seems almost as though it holds the very stars inside it, trapped within a smooth, polished prism prison.

It’s not difficult to see why the gem would’ve caught Chad’s eye, though Jared really thought the man knew better. For all the trouble he gets into, he is smart, sharp and perceptive, so despite the stone’s undeniable lure Jared had been surprised to hear the man confess to having taken it. It really is quite possibly the most beautiful jewel that Jared has ever seen, which is saying something. As prince of Austerra, his life has never been lacking in decoration. His own crown is adorned with sapphires - the stone of his household - but even they seem to pale in comparison to the gem before him. He can’t begin to guess at its value, which only lends itself to the worsening of his near-frantic energy.

Chad Lindberg was a traveller and well-known in Jared’s kingdom; his particular set of skills made him equal parts useful and a nuisance, since without a proper task he was inclined to boredom and eventually mischief. Jared had been doubly irritated at the interruption when the guards had burst into the court demanding his immediate audience only to discover it was Chad whom they were holding. He’d been removed from a local tavern where he’d been found highly intoxicated, causing a ruckus, and openly bragging about the stolen item like it had been some daring act of heroism as opposed to grand larceny - but as soon as Jared saw the jewel and Chad confirmed whence it came, he’d understood: Chad’s castigation was not within his authority to mete out.

Letting Chad go free had not been a difficult decision. It was not for Jared to interfere and attempt to have a hand in Chad’s fate; the sorceress to whom the stone rightfully belonged would be swift in her justice. One does not steal from witches if one has any sense of self-preservation whatsoever. Chad would know this as well as anyone, and so he had taken his life into his own hands when he made that poor choice. It was with that knowledge that Jared had quickly relieved the thief of his misappropriated prize and turned him loose for whatever punishment might await him.

Jared wishes he could say it was an act of mercy on his part, but given the tales of the woman who has long dwelled in the deepest part of the forest behind the castle, Jared can’t be sure. He only knows that now it is out of his hands.

What is still in his hands, however, is the stolen jewel. Jared has every intention to return it to the witch himself, and he wants to do it at once. He’s a smart man and knows well enough to fear the wrath of those so schooled and powerful in the mystic arts as the stone’s owner is. While he didn’t steal the stone himself, for now it remains in his possession and that makes him more uneasy with every passing moment. After releasing Chad to whatever fate awaits him, Jared had turned to his counsel, proposing the immediate restoration of the stone to its rightful place. He had pled his case to his advisors, but they had been adamant: night would be falling soon and the forest was dangerous enough without the cover of darkness. They’d insisted that he wait until morning despite Jared’s arguments to the contrary.

Even Genevieve, his childhood best friend and the youngest - newest - member of his counsel, had sided with James, Jeffrey, and Samantha that a nighttime journey would be unsafe and he should wait until sunrise to set out with an escort. Jared had gaped at her with unmasked shock. They had grown up running wild in those woods, back when it had been Jared’s brother in line for the throne and Jared’s life had been so much simpler - an afterthought, really, with so much of his parents’ and the court’s focus on preparing his brother. Gen knew better than anyone that Jared felt almost more at home under the cover of those trees, but it seemed his usual partner in crime had become compromised. She had regarded him seriously, somehow always managing to look threatening despite her diminutive form, and as his elder three advisors had looked on, proud and smug, Jared had known he was outnumbered.

The guards’ interruption would have been cause enough for Jared to excuse himself and retire early, sufficient reason to dismiss his counsel as soon as the commotion had settled and Chad had been decidedly tossed out, yet he’d stayed to make his case, to arrange the return of the stone. His advisors’ persistent urging to wait, however, had been the final straw. It was only when Jared had the stone in his palm and was turned on his heel to leave that Gen looked at him like she used to - like his best friend and not someone trying to keep him in line - but Jared had waved her off and made for his chambers alone.

For a short while he had simply sat and examined the jewel. It felt cool and comfortably heavy in his hand. The light that appeared to be set inside it was a little enchanting; he found he could get a little lost in it, gazing at its beauty, but the growing sense of unrest that came with it had soon made him put it down and take up the pacing. His mind was running wild with all the possibilities, all the ways he or his kingdom might suffer should the sorceress come seeking the stone and, upon finding it in his possession, misunderstand before he had a chance to explain.

He’d heard more than once as a child that she could turn folks into animals - trap them in bodies of frogs, slugs, or something else equally undignified to shame them for however they wronged her. Other tales told that she could even play with time, steal memories, or reweave the very tapestry of people’s lives. None of this he knows for certain, of course, having safely avoided her attention up until this point with a much stronger sense of self-preservation than could be said for Chad. The sorceress is not someone to be trifled with, and Jared does not want to end up on her bad side.

He pauses in his pacing, once more staring down the offending jewel. He can’t do this. He can’t sit here with it and do nothing, risking everything.

Resolved, he makes himself ready. He changes out of his more elegant court attire to something better suited for the hike, plain clothes and his sturdy leather boots. He dons his leather riding jacket, hurriedly fixes the clasps across his chest, and cinches his belt around his waist. He secures his dagger in the sheath at his hip and wears a small satchel to carry the jewel. He wraps it in a rich cloth before tucking it away and settling the bag against his opposite hip.

For the briefest moment he considers not writing a note. When his brother was crowned prince, Jared had always been a little reckless, but that had been his privilege as second born. With his brother gone, Jared has been abruptly thrown into his place, forcing him to smarten up and get serious fast. If someone should find his chambers empty with no explanation, the panic would be inevitable and the consequences unpleasant. So, sighing, Jared grabs some parchment from his desk and pens a note, just in case. Then, with the sun starting to set, Jared escapes through his window to scale the familiar castle wall like he’s done countless times before in his youth.



Jensen never enjoys the days he has to go into Capital City for the market. He’s intentionally as self-sufficient as he can manage so that he doesn’t have to rely on others for anything, but there are just some things the forest can’t quite provide him. Once every few months he takes his pack with him and makes the journey out of the woods to Tristan Square, where the market sets up in front of the castle. As his various supplies run low he dreads having to replace them, and brushing elbows with so many people after weeks of solitude means that by the time Jensen’s bag is bursting at the seams and he’s ready to return home, he’s also tense, uncomfortable, and yearning for silence.

His full pack is heavy and makes his back sweat in the late afternoon heat. The air between the trees is dense and thick but it’s open and so refreshing after that of the smelly, noisy crowds. Jensen breathes so much easier for the space and the familiar scents and sounds of the forest he calls his home. Jensen’s been alone for as long as he can remember but the woods have always been enough. Even as an orphaned child, people made him wary while the forest - for all its many dangers - seemed so much safer. He feels like the trees had a hand in raising him, and in the shadow of their leafy canopies he’s always found refuge. Which isn’t to say there aren’t perils in the woods, especially after nightfall, but Jensen is not afraid. He hears the townsfolk talk of the forest, that it’s enchanted and haunted both, by natural magic and that channelled by the witch who also dwells there, but for whatever reason Jensen has always only ever felt welcome.

Not to mention, the witch isn’t all bad, either. She has quite the temper - that much is true - but in all the times they’ve crossed each other’s paths, Danneel has always been reasonable and fair when asking for favours or Jensen’s help. She usually requires him to do legwork, since she takes Jensen’s notion of being a hermit to another level entirely. He’s not sure why, but she seems to have taken an interest in him over the years, and while it’s mildly disconcerting considering what he knows she’s capable of, Jensen figures he’s alright as long as he stays on her good side and doesn’t do anything to piss her off. She often has him fetch herbs or ingredients for her spells that can only be found by going much further into the forest, and Jensen would even go so far as to say he enjoys having to make those treks. She pays him well, usually with gifts that seem like gross overcompensation, not that he’s ever dared argue with her.

As he makes his way back home, he’s just thinking about how he hasn’t heard from her in a while, which means he’s likely due for her to come calling soon, when there’s a sound from up ahead that startles him. Someone cries out, again, and they sound almost pained. Jensen picks up his step and moves towards the noise, turning a tree and-

“Oh, gods, sorry,” he sputters out, flustered, and turns on his heel immediately, keeping them just inside his periphery. There’s a couple of kids pressed together against a trunk and there’s no mistaking what he’s stumbled upon. The girl gasps as they break apart, and the boy stutters like he might have been about to say something except he sees that Jensen is older, larger, and looks like he could be dangerous with the rugged stubble on his face, a sword and an axe on either hip. Both their faces are bright and flushed, they’re dressed like nobleman’s children in clothing much too fine for hiking, and gods, they cannot have more than fifteen, maybe sixteen summers each.

“Don’t gape at me, boy,” Jensen barks, annoyed, when the kid keeps standing there with his mouth opening and closing, at a loss and clearly wondering what kind of trouble they’ve landed themselves in. “You’ve no business this deep in the woods at this hour. Sun’ll be setting soon and there’s real danger here. Off with you now. Both of you, get!”

They both startle as he points in the direction of the city and stares them down. The girl clears her throat and looks down sheepishly. She smooths the front of her dress, tugs a little to get it in the right place, and wipes her mouth. The boy holds his hand out and she smiles shyly as she takes it. Jensen resists the urge to roll his eyes but the boy is tender as he threads their fingers together, gentle as he leads her away. Jensen watches after them as they go, and as soon as they’re out of earshot they’re leaning close together and whispering, hushed, and the girl casts more than one glance over her shoulder back at Jensen until they’re finally gone.

Jensen sighs, shaking his head, and resumes his own journey. His mind is blissfully quiet for naught more than a dozen steps before he finds his thoughts wandering and his heart sinking. It’s been a long, long time since Jensen last kissed anyone or felt the warmth and comfort of another body against his own. He’s content, comfortable, living alone in the woods - he really is - and days like today do well to prove it, his discomfort at being surrounded by strangers so strongly manifest, but he’s only human, after all, and seeing those kids together… he can’t help - even if he resents it - that there will always be a part of him that yearns for that, for… someone. Jensen has never felt understood by people, never felt like he belonged. As a parentless child making a way for himself however he could, he didn’t like how people looked at him, couldn’t trust anyone, and eventually the woods provided a calm and sense of security he never felt in the city. He’s never regretted that this quiet life is the one he leads, and he regards most folks with restrained disdain on principle, and it’s the thought he keeps closest to his heart, the secret he barely admits to himself that, despite everything, he still wants to know love.

Lost in his conflicted thoughts, Jensen’s poor mood continues to sour and he is beyond ready for this day to be over. The sun does, indeed, set, and Jensen’s bitterness and aching heart make the rest of his trek seem swift; he loses track of time so that he’s almost surprised when he finds himself in the small clearing that surrounds his cottage. He breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar sight, warmly illuminated by the last reaches of the sun’s pink and gold light, and he’s comforted to be home where he can shut out the rest of the world, shed today and all of its unpleasantness. He eagerly lets himself in and shucks off the straps of his heavily-laden pack, dropping it to the ground to deal with later. He stretches, rolling his liberated shoulders, and removes his weapons, placing them on his table. After the long, trying day, he can practically hear his bed calling for him. He removes his leather vest and drapes it over his chair, breathing easily for the loss of his weighted items and layers. He undoes the buttons at his throat as he moves towards his small fireplace and crouches to get a blaze going.

When the flames are set, Jensen settles at his table to a drink of mead and a humble supper of bread and cheese he indulged in at the market. It’s a familiar routine, easy and comforting; he feels lighter and resumes ignoring unattainable wants as he falls back into his usual way. Worn out as he is, he takes his time with his meal, sipping slowly at his beer and nibbling at his food. The firelight gets low and - in near darkness now - he resigns to fetching more wood. He gets to his feet and goes for the door, his store of chopped firewood piled around back, but he only gets two steps away from the house when there’s a great gust of wind, loud and howling, and a flash of light, bright, of equal measure. Jensen flinches and instinctively raises an arm to shield his eyes, and when the burst subsides, he lowers it again, blinking. He nearly staggers back in surprise.

Standing in the middle of his clearing, somehow out of nowhere, is a man. He looks clearly disoriented, mild panic on his face and his stance wide and ready like he’s bracing himself. He’s young, cannot have seen more than twenty-five summers, and tall - taller than Jensen even - with broad shoulders, excellent posture, a slim waist, and legs for days. He’s quite possibly the most handsome man Jensen has ever laid eyes on. He knows that isn’t exactly many, considering how he avoids folk generally, but Jensen is helpless against what stirs hotly and low in his gut as he takes in the sight of him.

Jensen’s eyes adjust and he sees him all the more clearly: his longer hair parted and tucked behind his ears, curling out at his neck; his smooth skin, the mole on his left cheek; his eyes wide and bright even in the dark; his pink lips, dented for the way he is anxiously biting them. He’s dressed for the woods but the quality of his clothing is still obvious in the polished grain of the leather, the neat, tailored lines and bright white of his cotton tunic. He wears a dagger at his hip and the hilt is gold. Whoever he is, he is not common, and his random appearance at his doorstep makes Jensen immediately skeptical, despite the way Jensen finds himself warming just to look at him.

The moment stretches out and the man before him looks nervous and unsure, still biting his lower lip and shifting his weight where he stands. He appears to want to speak but doesn’t know where to start. Jensen puts him out of his misery.

“How did you come to be here?” He asks roughly. The man looks relieved for Jensen to have asked or said anything. He laughs weakly and offers Jensen a shy, hesitant smile that makes Jensen’s stomach flutter.

“A witch sent me.”



Jared isn’t exactly sure where he’s going when he sets out from the castle. He knows his way around the grounds as well as can be expected for someone who's lived their entire life in one place, all the ins and outs and secret places that only children know, and once he sneaks away, unseen, he stands tall in the woods and takes a deep breath. He rests one hand on the bag which carries the stone and simply trusts. He knows the sorceress lives deep in the woods and his gut tells him to just go - he’ll find the way. Maybe it’s the gem, or maybe it’s the witch herself, but Jared starts walking and by the time the sky is painted all the warm colours of the sunset, he’s sure he’s getting close. The forest feels different, and though he doesn’t feel threatened, he does feel as though he’s being watched somehow. He can’t be sure either but he thinks he sees lights in the leaves and flowers on the forest floor and he doesn’t think they’re fireflies. He carries on and just as the sun is disappearing below the horizon, Jared stumbles upon a small stone cottage. It’s quite unassuming and wildflowers climbs the walls, covering much of it. Smoke trickles up from the chimney and while the windows are curtained, there is light on the other side.

He’s certain that this is it, though he’s not sure how he knows, and he still hesitates, all those stories of her floating in his mind and making him draw a blank on how he should proceed.

Come in, your highness, please. We ought not to linger in doorways. It’s quite rude.

Jared jumps at the voice in his head. It’s quiet, like an echo, and her voice is sweet, playful even. He can almost hear her laughing. He swallows thickly and, recovered, steels himself and moves deliberately for the door, letting himself in as directed.

He has to duck through the arch and as he stands in the doorway, he’s thoroughly surprised at what he sees. He’s not sure what he expected, really, but surely none of it was this. The cottage inside is full and warm from the fire. There are shelves everywhere crammed full of books and other trinkets, including at least two human skulls. Crystals litter the shelves as well as hang in clusters from the rafters tied by silk strings. There are herbs, too, hanging to dry or in wilted bouquets in jars set on the windowsills. There are candles aplenty, all lit and flickering, and the air is vaguely aromatic. Then, most surprising of all, is the sorceress herself. She’s sitting at a small, round table. It’s covered in cloth, and there’s a large, raw crystal sitting in a nest of silk and a steaming teapot on its surface. The witch sips from a delicate teacup and looks at him knowingly from over the lip of it. She’s young, somehow looks to be about Jared’s age though Jared knows she’s been here since long before him, and she’s beautiful. She has long, wavy auburn hair that’s kept back off her face with an elegantly embroidered scarf. Her black dress is simple, cut low and square at her bust, and she wears at least half a dozen necklaces of various lengths all with different gems and crystals. Her fingers are likewise adorned, and her ears with thin gold hoops and tiny sparkles, and her eyes seem to glimmer as they rake over him from head to toe. When she replaces the teacup to the table she’s smiling devilishly. She gestures for him to take a seat opposite her.

“Such a pretty prince,” she purrs. “I had no idea.”

Jared’s cheeks flush immediately and he stumbles awkwardly as he sits, feeling altogether too giant for the small chair, and he stutters, not even sure what to say. In an attempt to deflect her attention, he fumbles with the satchel to fish out the gem, carefully putting it on the table. The witch laughs and reaches out to give his forearm a gentle shake.

“Don’t worry about me, your highness. I know I’m not your type,” she winks and Jared can only gape at her, completely undignified.

“H-how do you know so much? S-so much about me?”

“Jared, dear, it’s what I do - know things. Just like I knew when that thieving rat managed to make off with my jewel,” she sneers and places heavy emphasis on the word rat when she speaks of Chad, and Jared tenses at the way she seems to switch from pleasant to terrifying in an instant. She notes his discomfort, apparently, because she smiles sweetly and chuckles as she continues. “Relax, your highness. You have nothing to fear from me. That irritating creature has been dealt his hand.”

Jared nods, somber. He has the sneaking suspicion that when she calls him a rat she isn’t speaking metaphorically. She is still smiling, holding his gaze and looking intensely thoughtful. Jared knows she said not to worry, but he can’t help but feel like she’s… planning something. Then, suddenly, her smile widens and out of nowhere she’s holding a second, empty teacup. Jared blinks - trying to convince himself she didn’t just create it out of thin air - and watches as she pours some tea and adds a splash of honey - exactly how he takes it - before placing it in front of him.

“And now for your hand, Princeling,” she sits back, crossing her arms underneath her breasts and looking genuinely pleased.

Jared takes the tea and sips it, careful not to offend her by ignoring it, and as he sets the cup back down he tries not to stutter again.

“I’m sorry?”

“Jared, I am indebted to you. I must thank you in some way for this service you’ve done me. Not only have you saved me the troublesome and loathsome journey to retrieve the jewel for myself, but I admire the very genuine respect you have for my art. I do love a man that understands his place,” she giggles at that, though her eyes are dark and her smile has turned quite sly. “What would you ask of me?”

“I- I don’t know,” Jared answers quietly. On some level he had anticipated earning the witch’s favour, but it never occurred to him it would be offered to him in such terms. When he meets her eyes again, hers are soft and kind.

“Well, take a moment. Drink your tea,” she gestures to his cup with one long, elegant hand. “I mean it, Jared. You can’t understand, but this jewel is very precious to me. It’s a deeply personal thing you’ve done for me. I want to do something for you. No, not your kingdom, Jared-” she says as if reading his very thoughts “-but for you, personally.”

Jared drinks more of his tea but is conflicted. Since his brother- since the accident, Jared’s life has been turned upside down. Nothing has been about him anymore. He’s not Jared first, and a prince second. He never envied the selfless life his brother led, always considered himself lucky to have been born after, and he misses the freedom. He’s tired, so tired, and he’s lonely. For all the people constantly by his side - friend and advisor alike - he’s alone in the way that counts the most. He’s been too busy and the way things are going he’s not sure when that busyness will ease, if ever. It had been difficult enough before - interacting sincerely with people - when he was just the little brother, but now… there’s no way for him to know if the people he meets really love him, or if they’re interested in his station. It shouldn’t bother him, the notion of marrying for position and not love, but it does. His parents had married for love, the kind you could see in the way they looked at one another until the days they died, and in his heart of hearts that’s what Jared has always wanted, too.

“Jared,” her voice is gentle and breaks through his thoughts. Her hand is back on his arm. “I am sorry about what happened. I know it hasn’t been easy. You’ve borne this burden well. You do him proud, truly. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it is still okay for you to wish things for yourself. Please, just this once, let me indulge you.”

She sits back and Jared is enchanted by her. She is at once terrifying and dangerous yet also small and kind. He wants to let her, but he hasn’t let himself think about what he wants since- since. It’s been almost two years and it’s still hard. He sighs, takes another sip of tea, and lets himself wonder. He’s not entirely sure what the limitations of magic are, but…

“Don’t concern yourself with limitations, your highness. I see your heart, I sense what it is you long for. Please, tell me.”

Jared is made brave by her encouragements, but he still feels his cheeks burn as he tries to find the words.

“I just… I just want one night where I’m not just this, a-a prince - the prince. I want…” he sighs, embarrassed for his romantic desires. “I want to be loved. Just for who I am, without the title, and I want to love back without the weight of the kingdom on my shoulders.”

When Jared finds the courage to look up from where his fingers fidget with the handle on the teacup to the sorceress’ face, she is still smiling, infinitely knowing and maybe even a little… delighted?

“This I can do for you,” she says finally, after a long, tense moment of silence on Jared’s part. He exhales, not realizing he’d been holding his breath, and feels a little thrill of excitement bubble up in his chest. “One night to set your crown aside, to love and be loved. You will have until sunrise, and then you’ll wake safe and sound in your own bed. Is that agreeable to you?”

Jared’s eyes widen and he nods. “Yes, of course. Anything. You are very gracious, uh…” he trails off, realizing he doesn’t know her name.

“It’s Danneel, Jared. And the pleasure is mine. Thank you, truly. Now, off you go.”

With that, a playful tease in her voice, a wink, and a clap of her decorated hands, Jared is blinded by a flash of light and when it clears, he’s on his feet, standing in a clearing in front of a stone cottage and the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. He is breathtaking, even lit only by the moon. He’s tall - while still being shorter than Jared - with short, softly mussed hair, rough stubble, plush lips, and freckles that dot his cheeks, visible to Jared even from where he stands several feet away. He wears simple clothes, a dark cotton shirt loose and open at his throat, messily tucked into his breeches like he’s stepped out in the middle of undressing. His legs have a subtle bow to them that Jared finds intriguing, and he holds himself as though he’s very capable, clearly strong.

The man is regarding him with surprise and obvious skepticism, but Jared’s stomach is swooping and he’s jittery. When he asked… he couldn’t have dreamed up a man more ideal than the one Danneel has given him. That said, gift or no gift, Jared has always been on the shy side in these scenarios, and certainly now, in the face of such beauty, Jared is at a loss for what to say, how to approach his impossibly perfect reward. Where does he even begin? He bites his lip anxiously and tries not to panic. Finally, the man sighs, shifting, and breaks the silence.

“How did you come to be here?” The man’s voice is deep and rich, a little gravelly, and the timber of it plays in Jared’s ears, makes him shiver.

Jared smiles because he can’t stop himself, and he prays to the gods that he doesn’t look as giddy and ridiculous as he feels. “A witch sent me.”



As soon as he says it, Jensen knows. This is not the first time that Danneel has secured a favour from him with gifts, though it is the first time that the token has been the man of his dreams incarnate. It’s always been unsettling how clearly the sorceress seems to be able to see into the very heart of him, but he never realized just how transparent he is to her. Not once has he ever uttered a word about his most secret desires, and yet here is this offering that reveals just how much she really knows. Jensen is wary. If this is what he thinks it is, accepting it will mean he’s about to owe the witch a mighty debt.

Jensen swallows thickly, clenches his fists at his sides, and lets himself look again. The man is smiling so brightly and looks so… eager. Maybe Jensen’s aversion to owing Danneel so large a favour was only ever a parade of imagined good intentions, his resolve parchment thin at best. He sighs even as he feels his own stomach flutter as the first inklings of real interest start to win out over his quickly fading concerns. Jensen’s expression softens and his lips bow into a subtle smile.

“You best come inside then,” Jensen says finally, and even he’s a little surprised at the suggestive tone in his own voice. The man’s cheeks flush noticeably and he nods, shaking loose some of the hair that was tucked cleanly behind his ears. Jensen is struck again, even in the moonlight, by how beautiful the man is, how he holds himself so elegantly, proud even, yet still with this youthful innocence that Jensen finds alarmingly attractive. Danneel has really outdone herself, and Jensen is about to be greatly in her debt but he has the growing suspicion that whatever she wants from him, it’s going to be so worth it.

“I’m just fetching some more wood for the fire,” Jensen continues, his voice a little strained for the way he tries to school his own excitement. “Make yourself at home, uh…?” He raises his eyebrows in question and the man blinks like he’s surprised and Jensen reads the brief hesitation in his face before he answers.

“Jared,” is all he says, though he watches Jensen very closely when he says it.

“Jared,” Jensen echoes plainly, and Jared seems to relax. “I’m Jensen, and I’ll be right in.”

He gestures back towards his door and makes for the woodpile as his unexpected guest lets himself inside.

---

Jared wishes he weren't so nervous and silently berates himself as he steps into Jensen’s cottage. It’s not well lit, the remnants of the fire in the large, simple hearth not much more than a crumbling pile of glowing embers, but there’s enough light from it and the moon from outside that Jared can make out the cottage’s interior. There isn’t much, and only one chair at the small table, but there’s a large bed in the corner opposite the fireplace. Nothing is fancy - it’s nothing like what Jared is used to - but the basic wood frame of the bed looks sturdy and the blankets look soft.

He’s not quite sure what to do now, alone in Jensen’s home in the mostly-dark, completely out of his element in every way he can imagine. He was sure saying his name would garner suspicion on Jensen’s part but if it did he hid it well and doesn’t seem to care. Jared hadn’t gotten so far in his thinking to decide what to call himself and he panicked when Jensen asked, imagined he should lie, but Jared has a history of being honest, even to a fault. He feels a little calmer now, despite the increasing thrill of anticipation, because the anonymity is refreshing. It’s what he wanted after all, and he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, since he did ask Danneel to not be Prince Jared tonight. It’s a relief, and Jared feels himself breathe all the more easily for it.

He shifts uncertainly where he stands, inside and to the right of the door so he isn’t in Jensen’s way when he returns, and he tries not to feel as young and inexperienced as he is. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before, it’s just… been a while, is all - it’s not like he’s had much time to himself since the throne was so abruptly thrust upon him - and the few trysts of his youth felt rushed and always at least a little awkward. Everyone, with the exception of his closest friends, is on eggshells around him - around royalty. Even in bed, it would seem. Jared wants things he’s not known how to ask for. He also wonders if anyone would capitulate if he did, and even then he’s still faced with the dilemma of whether or not it would be to his lover’s satisfaction as well, or simply given to him out of obligation.

Jared will admit that when it comes to being a ruler, he’s been able to put on the face he needs to in order to get things done and be the person he’s expected to be, but when it comes to more private matters, Jared hasn’t had the chance to really-

The door gets roughly kicked open and Jared startles. Jensen steps inside with his arms full of firewood, but as he turns towards the hearth he spares a glance at the twitching figure in the shadows and huffs a laugh.

“You can sit down if you like. This isn’t court. No need to stand on ceremony,” Jensen is clearly just teasing, his attention now on rebuilding the fire, but the jest hits close to home and Jared feels it rattle in his core. He swallows thickly and tries to laugh it off as he moves towards the one chair at his disposal.

He sits down and wonders if he should take off his boots or at least his jacket, since he’s already overdressed next to his host, who looks as though he was settling in for the night before he had to step outside. He’s quiet because he doesn’t know what to say, and watching Jensen work where he’s down on one knee in front of the hearth certainly isn’t helping him come up with any words - at least, none he feels he should be saying aloud, even if this is his witch-given dream come true.

The fire finally comes to life and the room brightens, warmly lit by the flames. Jensen sighs as he straightens, brushing himself off, and Jared’s eyes follow the long lines of his body as Jensen turns towards him. When Jensen’s eyes land on him, he huffs out another laugh.

“Jared, you look very uncomfortable. Please, relax,” the words are kind despite a gruffness in his voice, and Jared laughs again, too, pushing a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. It’s strange, all of it - the easy familiarity, a stranger calling him by name, being here, and as much as Jared knows this is for him, he’s having trouble finding his footing. Jensen’s eyes narrow then and he looks serious all of a sudden, considering, maybe even… worried.

“Jared,” he starts, his tone even but still clearly concerned. “You do… want to be here, yes?”

“Oh!” Jared starts, his heart picking up its pace in his chest. He’s standing again before he can stop himself, and he didn’t realize how very small Jensen’s cottage really is, because he’s right there, right in Jensen’s space. “Yes, I do. Very much so, yes.”

Jensen watches his face intently like he’s weighing every word, and Jared is terrified to think he’s putting Jensen off in any way with his obvious nervousness. Jensen still looks unconvinced, and Jared is glad for the light because between it and Jensen’s proximity, Jared is newly amazed at Jensen’s beauty.

“Jensen, you…” he shakes his head, at a loss for the words to do him any justice. “You are without a doubt more beautiful than any man I’ve ever seen.”

Jensen huffs again and looks away a moment. Jared thinks maybe he’s embarrassed him but it’s true and he needed to say it. He couldn’t have dreamed up Jensen if he tried, but here Danneel has gone and come up with him anyway. When Jensen finally looks at him, his cheeks a little pink, he gives Jared a small smile and his eyes are soft.

“And here I was thinking the very same thing about you.”

Jared’s heart is hammering hard now, quick like a rabbit inside the cage of his ribs, because he can’t recall a time anyone has ever looked at him with the inescapable heat and intention with which Jensen is looking at him now. His mouth has gone dry and and he can feel his dick start to stiffen against his leg. He can smell Jensen this close, underneath the smoky aroma of the fire. He smells earthy and crisp, clean, and it goes right to Jared’s head. Jensen moves in a little closer - they’re almost chest to chest now, nearly no space between them - and his eyes drop down to Jared’s lips and back, looking up at Jared through his lashes. Jared is so transfixed by his gaze he startles when the rough pads of Jensen’s fingers first connect with his cheek, having not noticed Jensen moving. His fingertips are gentle as they trace along his skin and Jared can’t help it - his body is drawn tight like a bow, Jensen’s hand is stringing the arrow - the tension is too much and Jared succumbs, pressing his face into Jensen’s palm on a shaky exhale. He’s torn, barely able to take his eyes from Jensen’s face but it feels so good to be touched like this, like he hasn’t been lately, like he hopes he’s going to be, and so his eyes flutter shut despite him.

He doesn’t get a chance to open them because in the next moment Jensen’s mouth is on his, pressing their lips together with a gentle, easy pressure. Jared kisses back, lets Jensen use his hand to tilt his head, and then there’s a tease of Jensen’s tongue at the seam of Jared’s lips. He parts for him immediately, his stomach fluttering wildly and body buzzing, feeling lightheaded by the time Jensen’s tongue is tangling with his own and he makes a small, broken sound as he gives into the impulse to suck on Jensen’s tongue. Jensen’s other hand finds Jared’s hip and his grip on him tightens as Jared sucks. He doesn’t let himself second-guess; nerves or no, this is his one night and Jared is going to let himself have what he wants. It seems that Jensen is on board, because he moans into the kiss, his fingers wound tightly in Jared’s hair and digging into his side, before taking his tongue back only to keep kissing him hungrily.

It’s a rush and Jared feels his anxiety start to fade away. He gets his arms around Jensen, on his back, and can feel the warmth of Jensen’s skin though his shirt like a promise against his palms. Jensen’s stubble is rough on Jared’s face but the drag of it makes Jared shiver and sigh against his lips. He pulls at Jensen, trying to get impossibly closer, but Jensen breaks the kiss, panting, and grins widely when Jared tries to chase his mouth.

“Too much- there’s too much between us,” he bites at Jared’s lip as he moves to undo the clasps on Jared’s jacket. Jared nods dumbly and fumbles with his own belt buckle, hands trembling as he hurries to undress. He drops the belt to the floor as Jensen starts to push his leather coat back and off his shoulders. Jared shrugs out of it and there’s a soft whump as it adds to the pile growing around his feet.

“Don’t stop, Jared. All of it - take it all off,” Jensen gives him a pointed look and Jared shivers; he already thrills at the casual way Jensen gives him direction, has taken charge of the situation so Jared doesn’t have to. He scrambles to do as Jensen says, reaching for his breeches to start untying them with his unsteady fingers, but then Jensen gets down on his knees at Jared’s feet and Jared freezes, sucking in a breath. Jensen’s hands wrap around his calf and then he looks up at him from the floor.

“I said, ‘don’t stop’.” Jensen looks serious even as he wears a devilish grin. Jared is nodding again and back at the ties of his pants while Jensen starts working at laces on his boots and Jared tries not to pay attention, keeping focused on his task. He gets them undone and loose so he can frantically untuck and pull his shirt up over his head, discarding it behind him.

Jensen finishes with his boots and looks up just as Jared gets his thumbs on the inside of his waistband. It makes Jared pause again, chest heaving with his quick, shortened breaths, and Jensen simply smiles, sliding his hands up Jared’s legs and shimmying closer on his knees. Jensen gets his hands on top of Jared’s, sliding some of his fingers inside Jared’s pants, and then he leans forward to press his face into Jared’s crotch. He nuzzles in, audibly inhaling as he rubs against him, pressing his jaw along Jared’s dick, making Jared gasp above him. His knees go a little weak when Jensen starts to mouth at him through his pants, and it doesn’t slip past Jensen’s attention. He laughs at little, holding on tightly to Jared’s hands and pants, and he relents and stands up. He leans in and kisses Jared’s cheek.

“Get naked, Jared. And get on the bed,” Jensen says as he turns away from him, taking off his own shirt.

Jared swallows thickly. This is it. This is really, actually happening. He toes out of his loosened boots and takes a deep breath before pushing the rest of his clothing down his legs. He steps away from the clothes on the ground and wills himself to stop thinking as he lays himself down in the centre of a stranger’s bed. He’s just settling back with his head on Jensen’s pillow when he looks up to where Jensen is standing - completely naked now - at the foot of the bed watching him.

Jensen is freckled softly all over, his skin smooth and taut over obvious muscle. He’s breathing heavy, like Jared, and flushed in the chest and face. His lips are dark and swollen from their kissing, impossibly full, and when Jared lets himself look at Jensen’s cock he sucks in a sharp breath and bites back a moan. Jensen is long and thick, not quite as long as Jared but thicker, the head is dark with blood and shiny with further evidence of his arousal beading up at the slit. Jared’s mouth waters immediately and he knows exactly what he wants. He needs to get Jensen in his mouth, needs to taste him. Jared’s few lovers have always been so quick to get on their knees for him and it’s not like he can complain, but it’s a position he’s always yearned to be in himself and never before more than in this exact moment.

Jared finally meets Jensen’s eyes, catches him licking his lips and looking hungry as his gaze rakes over Jared’s body. Jared swears he can feel the physical heat of it, desperately wants to expose himself to all of Jensen’s scrutiny, and it makes his dick twitch against his stomach.

“Gods, Jared. You are so beautiful,” he shakes his head like he can’t believe it. “I’m doomed,” he whispers and it’s so soft, so breathy, Jared isn’t sure he was meant to hear it, but before he can think to ask what Jensen means, Jensen is moving towards the bed and Jared panics.

“No! Jensen, wait!” Jared gasps, scrambling forward on the bed. Jensen looks startled, concerned for a moment that maybe Jared’s changed his mind about all this, but Jared doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t bother explaining; he’ll let his actions speak for him. Tonight he’s no prince and he’ll take what he wants on his knees, exactly how he wants it.

“Jared? What-? Oh. Oh, gods…” Jensen starts but stops just as abruptly when he understands, when Jared has slid forward off the bed and is kneeling at his feet. Jared’s stomach is flip-flopping, jumping and making him jittery so he has to take a deep breath to steady himself. He tentatively reaches for Jensen’s thighs with both hands and makes himself look up.

Jensen looks down at him with dark eyes filled with lust and awe. He brushes Jared’s hair back off his face, pushes his fingers through it and Jared arches into the touch, groaning. Jensen doesn’t take his hand back but when he relaxes it, Jared leans forward to nose at the base of Jensen’s cock, breathing in deeply that heady, musky smell of him that’s so much stronger here, and it makes his cock leak where it’s resting on his leg. Jensen moans when Jared starts to lick at his balls, then makes his tongue wide and flat to drag up the underside of Jensen’s dick. He opens his mouth wide to suck in the head, cradling it on his tongue, then seals his lips and nurses at the tip, moaning around his mouthful at the salty, bitter taste.

“Oh, Jared, yes. That’s it, sweetheart,” Jensen murmurs and Jared relaxes his jaw, opening his mouth to take more of Jensen in. He can’t get all the way to the base without choking a little, but his throat tightens around the head and Jensen groans, tightens his fist in Jared’s hair so that it pulls a little and Jared whines brokenly. Jensen immediately relaxes his grip and pulls pack.

“Jared, gods, I’m so sorry. Are you-” he hunches over, reaching for Jared’s face to tilt it up to look at him while Jared gasps. He swipes his thumb through the tear tracks on Jared’s cheek but Jared shakes his head vigorously and cuts him off.

“No, it- it’s okay,” Jared croaks, his voice rough and watery. “Jensen… please?”

Jared blinks and he holds Jensen’s gaze though his heavy, wet lashes as he opens his mouth, making a wide invitation with his tongue.

“Yeah? You want me to-”

Jared nods eagerly before Jensen can finish the question, tugging at Jensen’s hips a little.

“Fuck, okay. Alright, Jared, just- you must tell me if it- if it’s too much,” Jensen’s voice is husky as he get the words out, the hand in Jared’s hair stroking gently while he grabs himself with the other. He traces Jared’s lips with the tip of his dick before feeding Jared the rest of it. Jared moans softly as Jensen starts in with slow, shallow thrusts. Jared just holds on, his hands on Jensen’s sides, his thumbs rubbing up and down the edges of his hipbones. At first Jared bobs a little too, but Jensen is still going easy, and Jared wants Jensen to just… take from him. He lets go of Jensen’s hip a moment to reach for the hand Jensen has in his hair, closing his hand over Jensen’s tightly and giving a tug to show Jensen what he wants. Jensen groans, breathes out a nearly inaudible litany of okay, okay, okay as he digs his fingers in. Jared takes loud breaths through his nose and holds on to Jensen with two hands again, tugging until Jensen starts to move a little faster, a little deeper. It feels so good as he increases in the rhythm, the fullness, the way Jensen is forcing a space for himself, that Jared struggles not to squirm in his spot, grinding his knees into the floor while his neglected dick throbs and makes a mess of his thigh.

Jensen hits the back of Jared’s throat, triggers his gag reflex and Jared chokes, spluttering, spit and Jensen’s precome dripping out of the corners of his mouth while tears do the same from the corners of his eyes and Jared can feel Jensen hesitate. He digs into Jensen’s flesh with his fingertips all the more desperately, begging him wordlessly not to stop. Jensen seems to understand, cursing under his breath and groaning as he keeps moving his hips, fucking into Jared’s mouth, using him just as Jared wished him to. Jared is so close just from this; he feels so vulnerable, there’s a mix of panic and arousal warring in his chest and setting fire to all his nerves. The way Jensen stretches his mouth and feels so heavy and hard on his tongue, a part of Jared is already mourning that he only gets this tonight. Jared coughs as he chokes around Jensen again, still holding on so Jensen won’t stop, and Jensen sighs brokenly above him.

“Fuck, Jared, so good. Take it so good, baby. Such a good boy,” Jensen controls Jared’s head with the hand still tightly wound in his hair but his other hand slides gently down to cup Jared’s chin, his fingers massaging the thin, delicate skin of Jared’s throat as he keeps fucking into it. It feels so good, so soft compared to the hard rhythm of Jensen’s hips. Jared whimpers at Jensen’s praise and Jared knows Danneel is more than just a witch, must be some kind of goddess maybe, because Jensen is really listening to him, he seems to understand so readily, and he is so ready to give Jared what he wants without him ever having had to ask.

“Oh, Jared,” he nearly coos, still thrusting into his face. “You like that? You want to be a good boy for me?”

Jared nods minutely, the best he can with his mouth full and his head at the mercy of Jensen’s grip. He hums an assenting sound, too, muffled as it is by Jensen’s cock, and has to desperately pull in air through his nose to make up for the sound. His face is wet with tears and his chin is a mess of everything Jensen is forcing out of him but he still wants more.

“Gods,” Jensen groans, broken. “I’m so- I must stop, Jared. I want- want to fuck you,” he grunts out, and despite what he says, he doesn’t stop. Jared gets it; he keens at Jensen’s admission, feels more of his own wetness gush onto his leg, but they have enough time, and Jared needs this. He pushes away from Jensen and Jensen immediately loosens his grip. Jensen drops from his mouth, dripping, and Jared pants, takes giant, gasping breaths, and then looks up at Jensen, pleading.

“Jensen,” he coughs, his voice ruined like he’s never heard it before. “We have until sunrise. You may fuck me after but I- I need…” he closes his eyes and forces himself to say it. “Need to t-taste you. Please, come in my mouth.”

“Fuck,” Jensen hisses and doesn’t hesitate another second. He gets his dick against Jared’s mouth before Jared’s even opened it; he parts his lips under the pressure as Jensen pushes back in. His fingers find their home in his hair again, the other hand is back under Jared’s chin, and Jared’s afraid he may break Jensen’s skin with his nails he digs in so hard when Jensen bottoms out right away. Jared chokes, his throat fluttering around Jensen’s head and he holds onto Jensen desperately, moaning and trying to relax as Jensen find his rhythm again.

It doesn’t take long. Jared can tell Jensen is close, his hips stuttering and his words devolving into little more than a broken refrain of uh uh uh. Jensen’s fingers are so tight in his hair that his head is tilted up into the pull and then, for a moment, Jensen feels impossibly larger in his mouth before he’s coming, pulsing warm and bitter at the back of Jared’s throat. Jared coughs and Jensen stills, lets Jared come off him a little, trying to swallow all he can while the next wave forces more out onto this lips and chin. Jared reaches down to get a hand on himself and that’s it- barely one stroke and Jared is coming, too, a hot mess spilling over his fist onto his leg. He’s certain he’s never come harder in his life, and he feels dizzy and weak when it finally subsides. He can hardly move, still mindlessly nursing at the head of Jensen’s dick while Jensen shakily pets his hair.

“Jared, gods. You were so good, such a good boy, Jared,” Jensen is murmuring and Jared blinks his eyes open, his mouth going slack and everything sore, his jaw aching but it still feels so good, just as Jensen sighs and crouches in front of him, then goes down on his knees, too.

“So fucking good, Jared,” he leans in and licks at Jared’s chin, cradles his head in both his hands, moving it easily so he can clean up the mess he made. He kisses sweetly at Jared’s open, abused lips, and Jared starts to smile into it, belatedly kissing back even though he’s a little dopey and their mouths aren’t meeting up just right.

Jared just hums, feeling warm and sated and cared for under Jensen’s attention. His hand is loose around his dick where it’s softening against his palm, his come starting to cool on his skin. Jensen reaches for him and at the first touch of his calloused hand to him Jared startles. Jensen smiles, keeps kissing at his face, along his jaw, as he plays in Jared’s mess. He is gentle and teasing as he touches Jared, and between it and the come-down, Jared’s skin pebbles up and he starts to shiver, getting cold.

“Mmm,” Jensen noses in under his ear, sounding every bit as fucked-out and pleased as Jared feels. “On the bed now, okay? Here we go…”

He gets his clean hand around Jared’s waist and starts to stand up, guiding Jared’s heavy, loose body with him. Jared’s knees hurt, too, but just as with the dull pain in his jaw, it makes Jared’s spent dick twitch with interest, with the memory, and he prays to whatever gods allow Danneel her power that when he wakes alone in the morning, all these aches will still be with him.

Jared feels as though he’s swimming through a thick soup as he tries to move to Jensen’s bed, but Jensen gets him there easily enough. He sprawls out on his back and before his eyes close behind heavy lids, he catches a fond look on Jensen’s face. A moment later, Jensen is cleaning him up with a soft cloth. Jared startles once again at the touch and feels his face flush immediately. His eyes flutter back open and Jared squirms a little; it’s too much like times before, where everything is about him, and not for the reasons he wants. He reaches for Jensen to stop him, his hand shaking, but Jensen looks up at him, seeming to sense his distress.

“Jared, please. Relax. Let me take care of you, pretty boy,” Jensen looks so earnest and Jared is warmed by his tenderness. Jared exhales and relaxes back against the bed at Jensen’s words, letting his eyes close. He hears Jensen move around the cottage briefly before he feels the mattress dip under Jensen’s weight. He crawls up the bed, bringing the blanket with him, and lays down beside Jared. He lets out a long breath as he settles and then there’s quiet. Jared finally swallows and opens his eyes, turning a little to look at Jensen where he’s on his back next to him.

Jensen looks back down at him, assessing, before smiling knowingly. He brings his arm up and raises his eyebrows. Jared worries his lips between his teeth.

“Well? Come here,” he encourages. Jared looks at the spot Jensen has made for him and quickly turns towards him and shimmies into it. Jensen is warm and solid and as they settle together Jared is amazed at how comfortable it is to be close like this, Jensen’s arm under his neck and his hand soft on his head when he folds it up. He starts dragging his fingers across Jared’s scalp in the next breath and Jared sighs, loving every touch.

They lay like that in another moment of quiet, the only sounds that of their combined breaths and the crackle of the fire, the occasional shifting of the logs.

“So… sunrise, huh?” Jensen finally asks, his voice carrying an unmasked hint of sadness.

“That is what she said, yes,” Jared replies, letting his tone be equally honest.

“Hmm,” Jensen hums, contemplative.

The quiet resumes between them but Jared isn’t uncomfortable. Jensen’s hand has abandoned his head only to find his arm instead, his fingers tracing unreadable scribbles there softly. It makes Jared feel safe where he is, and his own fingers starts moving tentatively on Jensen’s chest.

Jared’s private moments have always been rare, even before what happened to his brother. There are always people in the castle keeping track of him, and Jared has never enjoyed knowing that the reality is someone has likely always been aware of most of his encounters. Nothing is just his, but this, everything with Jensen… it’s completely theirs, no one waiting in the wings for Jared, hovering outside his door; Jared doesn’t have somewhere to be so soon that he has to fumble for his things, awkwardly make his getaway or send his lover on their way.

Jared was embarrassed to have asked Danneel for this, but the night isn’t over yet and Jared is already so glad that he did. He thinks about his life in the castle and he wonders if he could ever be so free as he feels right now, in this moment, wrapped in Jensen’s arms. If this is the only chance he’ll have… he’s glad he took it.

| Masterpost | Part Two |