Archive of Our Own

D3r thought that he was supposed to be meeting a princess.

Or at least that's what his father had said.

The princess–Princess Avery–would be arriving within the week and Der was expected to make a good impression. His father had sounded more patient than usual when explaining this to D3r, more patient than he'd usually talked about diplomacy.

“If you're expected to marry someone one day,” he'd explained, “it's best if you actually like them.”

D3r thought that that made sense, though he couldn't help but wonder if his father had been speaking from experience.

As part of the visit, he'd been entrusted with a locket to gift the princess. It really was quite pretty with a swan engraved on the soft gold, its wings wrapping around a little heart. D3r definitely wasn't an expert on jewelry by any means, but he knew enough about swans to guess the meaning.

His father had probably chosen it for that purpose, that, and D3r is pretty sure it was a replacement for an engagement gift, even if nobody had directly told him that.

The castle itself has become nearly unrecognizable with all the preparations going on.

Servants hurried through every corridor carrying flowers, polishing silver, and dusting surfaces D3r didn't even know could be dusted. Every suit of armor shone, every tapestry was straight, and the large amount of gold in the castle had been cleaned and polished until they practically glowed.

Unfortunately, D3r found that out by accident when he nearly got blinded by a piece near sunrise.

He was much more careful when wandering in the mornings now.

With the visit coming, D3r felt like he hadn't had any time to be by himself. His governess had been insistent on going over manners and other ways to properly treat a lady like he'd forget everything he'd ever been taught the second he saw the princess. It was honestly beginning to make his head spin a little, and that was saying something considering that D3r loved to learn.

At least he could hide in the library when everything got too loud.

He'd overheard some chatter earlier from the servants about how cute the princess supposedly was, and D3r would be lying if he said he wasn't curious how true it'd end up being.

D3r mainly just hoped that the princess was nice.

The day came faster than D3r had been expecting.

For weeks, it'd seemed like anyone in the castle had talked about anything else: the servants whispered excitedly whenever they thought that no one important was listening. His governess had almost doubled the amount of etiquette lessons he endured in a day, and his father had just smiled like he knew something that D3r didn't and assured D3r that this meeting would be important.

And now that the day itself had arrived, it felt like any other day.

D3r sat at the edge of his bed as the sun shone through the windows and stared down at his hands. He was trying and failing not to clench his fists around his blankets.

Outside D3r could hear birds singing.

Somewhere in the castle, there was a loud clang and shouting as someone had probably dropped something big and heavy that hopefully wasn't too important.

The world hadn't changed.

The sky hadn't split open.

There hadn't been some grand sign from the heavens or from any of their holy leaders declaring that whatever happened today was going to change his life forever.

It wasn't fair. People had been acting like today was going to be the most important day to ever happen, but it still felt like any other morning to D3r.

He wasn't exactly sure what everyone had been expecting. He knew that his father and his governess had been hoping for a love at first sight meeting where he'd see the princess and immediately fall for her, but D3r wasn't sure that he believed in it just yet.

How are you supposed to fall in love with someone without knowing them first?

Not to say that D3r disliked the idea of it or anything, honestly, it was the opposite. He'd grown up on fairy tales where princes rescued princesses from towers and curses. Princesses danced beneath the moonlight in sparkling gowns shining like stars. Two people meeting and immediately knowing that they belonged together and having a happily ever after.

There was something comforting about that type of certainty.

Even though he liked thinking that something like that was going to happen to him, D3r didn't think that he was going to be that lucky. But his father was optimistic that he'd at least like the princess, so at least he had that going for him.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

The morning sunlight poured over the castle grounds, illuminating the gardens in warm gold. A gentle breeze stirred the flowerbeds below his window, carrying the scent of roses and freshly cut grass.

It was beautiful.

Honestly a little too beautiful.

If he couldn't have a sign from the heavens that his life was about to change, he'd at least settle for some clouds, ideally some type of storm.

But no, the day outside had to be perfect with only picturesque wisps of cirrus hanging high above.

Maybe that was a good sign.

Or maybe the weather simply didn't care that a prince was about to meet the person that he was likely going to marry someday.

Unfortunately for D3r, getting dressed and ready for the day took considerably less time than he'd hoped it would.

Normally, he was allowed to dress himself. He didn't really leave the palace much, so his father didn't really mind what he wore as long as he was presentable.

Today, unfortunately, was very much not normal.

He endured being fussed over with all the patience he could manage while servants adjusted his collar again and again, smoothed wrinkles that didn't exist, and fixed his hair approximately six times.

By the time it was done, D3r felt less like a person and more like one of the decorative dolls kept and displayed in the castle nursery.

The formal outfit itself wasn't terrible looking.

It was just deeply, deeply uncomfortable: the fabric scratched the back of his neck, the embroidered cuffs were stiff, his dress shoes already hurt, and that wasn't even half of his complaints.

He was already counting down the hours until he could change into something that didn't make him want to claw his own skin off.

Honestly, D3r wasn't all too sure how he was supposed to properly introduce himself to the princess when all he could think about was how unbelievably uncomfortable he was.

Maybe true royalty simply learned to tolerate discomfort. If so, D3r was beginning to suspect that he wasn't very good at being royalty.

“You look nice.”

D3r glanced up as his father stepped into his room.

The King looked every bit the picture of composed authority, adorned in his usual yellows and golds, though D3r noticed the fond amusement in his eyes immediately.

“You say that every time I wear formal clothes,” D3r said.

“Because it's true every time.”

D3r wrinkled his nose, “They're itchy.”

“They're supposed to be,” his father laughed softly.

“Why?”

“I've never found an answer to that myself.”

That managed to draw a reluctant smile from D3r.

His father approached before adjusting the front of D3r's jacket and giving him an appraising look.

“Nervous?”

D3r hesitated.

“...A little.”

“You don't have to be perfect.”

“Everyone else seems to think I do.”

“They're not the ones that might be marrying Princess Avery one day,” his Father's expression softened, “you don't have to sweep her off her feet today.”

D3r considered that before asking, “What if she doesn't like me?”

“Then you've lost nothing except for an afternoon.”

“And if she does?”

The King smiled, “Then perhaps you'll get a friend.”

D3r thought that he could live with that. A friend sounded a lot less scary than a future bride did.

A knock sounded at the door before either of them could say anything else, one of the servants coming in with a bow.

“Your Majesty,” she said. “The royal carriage has arrived.”

D3r's stomach dropped.

Oh.

Oh.

This was actually happening.

His father rested a hand briefly against his shoulder, “Ready?”

No.

Absolutely not.

D3r took a steadying breath anyway, “...I think so.”

As they made their way through the castle halls, D3r slipped a hand into his pocket, and his fingers brushed against cool gold.

Right.

The locket.

He pulled it out just enough to sneak a glance at it. The swan engraved on the surface gleamed in the morning light, elegant and graceful.

He closed his fingers around it.

Maybe love at first sight wasn't real, maybe happily ever after wasn't something that simply happened because stories said that it should.

But D3r thinks that he could live with that.

The castle doors opened with all the ceremony that D3r had expected.

Trumpets sounded from somewhere behind him.

Servants lined the entrance hall in neat rows.

His father stood beside him with the calm confidence of someone who had attended hundreds of royal functions and had seen pretty much everything there was to see, knew almost everything there was to know.

D3r wished he could say the same.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the grand staircase, another followed behind it, then another.

The visiting king emerged first.

D3r straightened instinctively.

The queen followed shortly after, elegantly and smiling pleasantly as she exchanged greetings with his father.

Then, finally Princess Avery stepped down from the carriage.

D3r blinked.

He blinked again.

Prince Avery stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked to be about D3r's age.

Light brown hair caught the sunlight as he adjusted the sleeves of his outfit, looking as uncomfortable in formal clothes as D3r felt. He had a slightly awkward way of standing, as though he wasn't entirely sure what to do with his hands.

He looked up and their eyes met.

Prince Avery's eyes were a beautiful shade of green; they reminded D3r a little bit of a meadow.

D3r stared and Prince Avery stared back.

“...That's not a princess,” D3r whispered.

Beside him, he felt his father go very, very still.

“Oh,” his father said.

The visiting king cleared his throat.

“Ah.”

There was a brief silence. The type of silence that lingered just long enough to be noticeable.

“...I believe,” the king said carefully, “there may have been a misunderstanding.”

His father looked as though several years had been taken from his life in the span of several seconds. D3r could see it in the way his father straightened that this probably wasn't going to end well.

“A misunderstanding.”

“Our son,” the queen clarified gently, “is Prince Avery.”

“...Prince Avery,” D3r's father echoed, something D3r couldn't name in his voice.

D3r glanced back toward Prince Avery.

Prince Avery glanced toward him.

“...It's an honor to meet you,” the prince awkwardly bowed towards D3r and his father.

D3r stared for a couple of seconds before replying, “Hi.”

Then Prince Avery frowned slightly, “...I think everyone thought I was a girl.”

D3r looked around at the collection of horrified adults surrounding them, “...I think so too.”

To his immense surprise, Avery snorted. Actually snorted, it was such an unexpectedly normal reaction that D3r had to bite down a laugh.

Beside him, his father pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This changes–“ he began.

“–Very little, actually,” the queen interrupted smoothly.

She smiled warmly, though D3r wasn't quite sure that he liked the look in her eyes.

“They're children.”

The king nodded, “We hoped that they would become acquainted.”

D3r glanced towards Prince Avery again. He was fidgeting with the edge of one sleeve, looking embarrassed rather than upset. Like he'd been dragged into this mess just as unexpectedly as D3r had, their eyes met again and Prince Avery offered a small, sheepish smile.

D3r smiled back before he could think too hard about it.

“...I can still give him the tour,” D3r blurted.

His father blinked, “You can?“

D3r hesitated, “...I mean, if Prince Avery wants one.”

“Oh. I'd like that!” Prince Avery's expression brightened immediately and the enthusiasm in his voice made something in D3r relax.

His father looked between them. Then, slowly, the King sighed. “...very well.”

D3r could practically hear his governess mourning the loss of all her carefully planned lessons about courting ladies.

He tried not to smile as Prince Avery stepped up beside him once the adults had returned to their conversation.

“So…“ Prince Avery started.

“So.”

“You thought I was a princess.”

“You thought I knew you were a prince.”

“...Fair point.”

They looked at each other before Prince Avery laughed, causing D3r to laugh too.

The tension dissolved immediately.

“So,” Prince Avery repeated after a moment, “where are we going first?“

D3r thought about the grand ballroom, the throne room, the library, and his own room. But instead he found himself saying, “The gardens.”

He knew that it was the right thing to say with the way that Prince Avery's face lit up.

“Really?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“No!” Prince Avery said quickly. “I just thought we'd have to look at important things first.”

D3r lowered his voice conspiratorially, “The important things are boring.”

Prince Avery gasped softly, “You can't say that. You're a prince.”

“I know.”

“...Are they actually boring?”

“They're incredibly boring.”

Prince Avery looked delighted.

The gardens were beautiful in the late morning sunlight.

Flowerbeds overflowed with blossoms in every imaginable color. Marble pathways wound between carefully maintained hedges and fountains.

This was probably D3r's favorite place within the castle grounds besides the library. It was quieter than the castle.

Less formal.

Less suffocating.

Prince Avery paused every few steps looking around with wonder.

“Oh, are those blue orchids? They're beautiful.”

“That statue looks judgmental.”

“Do you think that the gardeners get annoyed when birds steal things?“

D3r found himself answering each question, sometimes seriously and sometimes not.

By the time they'd reached the pond, D3r had almost forgotten how nervous he'd been earlier.

“Do you come out here often?” Prince Avery asked.

“Sometimes, “ D3r said softly, “Usually when the castle gets too loud that I can hear it in the library.”

Prince Avery nodded understandingly, “I hide in libraries.”

“You like libraries too?” D3r blinked.

“They're quiet.”

“...Exactly.”

Before either of them could continue, Prince Avery suddenly made a sound D3r had never heard another prince make before.

“Oh!”

D3r turned to see that Prince Avery had stopped moving entirely, and his eyes had gone wide.

“Oh,” he repeated, softer this time.

He pressed both hands against his chest, “D3r.”

“What?”

“D3r!”

“What?”

Prince Avery pointed towards the pond.

“Oh.”

A family of swans drifted peacefully across the water towards where they were standing on land, the parents gracefully stepping out of the water. Several tiny gray fluffballs paddled after them.

“Oh,” D3r echoed.

Prince Avery made a noise that sounded suspiciously like he might cry from happiness, “They're babies.”

“They are.”

“They're so little.”

“They're not that little.”

“They're tiny!”

One of the babies stumbled over its own oversized feet as it attempted to climb onto the shore.

Prince Avery immediately clasped his hands over his mouth, “Oh no!”

“It's fine,” D3r awkwardly assured him.

“It fell over,” Prince Avery sounded distressed.

“They do that a lot.”

The tiny swan managed to right itself before promptly tripping again.

Prince Avery let out an audible coo, “They're adorable.”

D3r stared at him, “...you really like them.”

“They're babies.”

“As opposed to?“

Prince Avery looked at him as though the answer should have been obvious, “everything.”

“They're called cygnets,” D3r tried not to laugh.

The prince's attention immediately snapped back towards D3r, “What?“

“The baby swans,” D3r explained, trying not to sound too fond already. “They're called cygnets.”

Prince Avery's expression softened.

“Cygnets,” he repeated the word carefully, “...that's the cutest thing I've ever heard.”

One of the cygnets cheeped loudly before waddling directly into another sibling, and Prince Avery made that same cooing sound again.

D3r looked between the fluffy gray cygnets and Prince Avery, whose entire face lit up with delight.

He'd spent weeks wondering if Princess Avery would be pretty.

If she'd be polite.

If she'd be someone he could tolerate.

Instead, there was Prince Avery, crouched near the edge of the pond in uncomfortable formal clothes, completely enchanted by the awkward babies toddling about.

“...I think, “ D3r said slowly, “they like you.”

Prince Avery glanced back at him, “You think so?”

“I think they can tell when someone likes them.”

Avery smiled then. It wasn't the polite smile he'd given during introductions; it wasn't practiced or careful.

It was bright.

Genuine.

Warm enough that D3r forgot entirely that Prince Avery wasn't quite who he expected to meet today.

“...I like them a lot,” Prince Avery admitted.

D3r looked down at the golden locket still tucked safely in his pocket, then back at Prince at Avery, who was currently whispering encouragement to a cygnet attempting–and failing miserably–to walk in a straight line.

He thought that he liked this version a lot better.

The cygnets continued being very cute and clumsy, much to Prince Avery's detriment.

One attempted to climb over a small stone at the edge of the pond only to lose its footing halfway through and topple sideways into the grass. Thankfully, it was barely a fall, but Prince Avery made a distressed noise all the same, “Oh no.”

“It's fine,” D3r reassured him.

“It keeps falling over.”

“It keeps getting back up.”

The cygnet in question shook itself out indignantly before taking another wobbling step forward.

“Good,” Prince Avery's shoulders visibly relaxed.

“You sound genuinely worried.”

“I was genuinely worried.”

“They're swans.”

“They're babies.”

D3r had learned very quickly that–to Prince Avery–that explained everything perfectly.

He watched as Prince Avery carefully crouched near the edge of the pond, careful to both not fall in or get too close to the protective adult swans. Everything considered, D3r was pretty sure that the prince would lose a fight against one, though he was more likely to run before fighting. The Prince's formal clothes had become slightly wrinkled, and a strand of hair had escaped Prince Avery's ponytail, which D3r was sure someone had put painstaking effort into making sure it looked nice.

His expression was bright and open in a way that D3r hadn't seen during their initial introduction: Prince Avery looked happy, genuinely happy.

D3r found himself reaching into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the warm gold of the locket.

Right, he'd almost forgotten.

“...Prince Avery?”

The prince looked over immediately, “Yeah?“

D3r hesitated a little, “This is for you.”

He blinked as D3r held the locket by its chain for him, “What.”

“My father gave it to me this morning,” D3r awkwardly at the back of his neck, a nervous habit he was all too aware of. “It's supposed to be a gift.”

“...Even though I'm not a princess?”

D3r frowned, “You're still you.”

Prince Avery stared at him for a couple of seconds before slowly taking the necklace from D3r.

The prince held it carefully, his other hand cradling the locket as he examined it. The gold glowed softly in the late morning sun, throwing small reflections of light onto Prince Avery's hands.

“Oh,” Prince Avery whispered as his fingers gently traced the little swan, “it's beautiful.”

“My father told me that swans mate for life,” D3r explained. “I think that's why he picked it.”

Prince Avery looked up.

“...Oh.”

The tips of his ears turned pink.

“Oh.”

“It wasn't–“ D3r immediately felt himself starting to blush as well, “I mean– it was supposed to be–”

“An engagement ring substitute?” Prince Avery supplied.

“...Probably.” D3r was trying and failing not to wince.

“...Because we're too young for rings?”

“...Probably?”

“...And rings are easier to lose?”

“Probably.”

There was a pause before Prince Avery unclasped the chain and put the necklace on, tucking the locket under his shirt and close to his heart.

“I like it.”

“You do?”

“It's my first piece of jewelry that isn't ceremonial or gifted to me by a relative.” The prince explained with a laugh.

D3r blinked, “Really?”

Prince Avery nodded.

“I'll take good care of it,” he promised.

Something warm settled in D3r's chest, “I'm glad.”

He fiddled with the chain before smiling at D3r, “Thank you, Prince D3r.”

D3r smiled back, entirely too fond already.

Then the prince hesitated for a couple of seconds, “...can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Can you stop calling me Prince Avery?” Avery didn't meet his eyes, and the tips of his ears were beginning to turn pink again.

D3r tilted his head, “What?”

“You keep using my title.” Avery fiddled with the chain of the necklace again. “Everyone uses my title.”

“...You're a prince.”

“I know.”

“You want me to just call you Avery?”

Avery nodded, “If that's okay.”

“...Only if you stop calling me Prince D3r.”

Avery's eyes widened. “I've been doing that.”

“You have.”

“...Sorry.”

D3r shrugged, “You didn't know.”

“Then... D3r?” Avery smiled.

D3r wasn't entirely sure why hearing his name spoken so simply felt different.

“...Avery.”

“Thank you,” the smile Avery gave him then was bright enough to rival the sunshine reflecting off the pond.

One of the cygnets sneezed and immediately ruined whatever moment was happening between them as Avery immediately looked back towards them.

“Oh, that's adorable.”

“You really are easy to distract,” D3r quietly laughed.

“They're babies.”

“Right“

“They're tiny.”

“They're growing.”

“They're tiny now.”

D3r was beginning to suspect that this argument could and likely would continue indefinitely.

Unfortunately, they were eventually interrupted.

“There you two are!” One of the servants hurried toward them, slightly out of breath. “Their Majesties are waiting for you. Lunch is about to be served.”

“We have to leave?” Avery looked disappointed.

“For now.”

“...Do you think that the cygnets will still be here later?“

“They live here.”

“Oh.” Avery said before instantly brightening, “Oh good!”

D3r smiled despite himself, “I can bring you back afterward.”

“You mean it?“

“Of course.”

“I'd like that.” Avery smiled softly at D3r.

D3r ignored how butterflies started to stir in his stomach.

By the time they'd returned to the castle for lunch, D3r had almost forgotten why he'd met Avery in the first place.

Almost.

The adults had settled around the long table, conversation pausing as D3r and Avery entered together.

His father's gaze immediately went towards the golden chain around Avery's neck, then to how comfortable they looked standing by each other.

The King's eyebrows rose a little.

Avery's mother smiled, but it didn't quite seem to reach her eyes.

“How was the tour?“ His father asked.

“It was nice,” Avery immediately answered, trying not to sound too excited about it.

“There were baby swans,” D3r explained.

“They're called cygnets,” Avery added.

Avery's father blinked, “...I see.”

“They were really cute,” Avery continued happily, “they kept falling over and trying their best.”

“...I see,” the king repeated himself.

D3r's father looked between the two of them, “You two seem to have gotten along.”

D3r glanced at Avery and Avery glanced back.

“...Yeah,” D3r admitted.

“I think D3r's funny,” Avery said.

“I think Avery likes baby animals more than anything else.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“...Maybe.”

The adults shared looks over the table. Looks that D3r didn't entirely understand.

Lunch proceeded pleasantly enough.

D3r learned that Avery enjoyed reading just as much as he did, and in return, Avery learned that D3r preferred learning history over any sort of fighting lesson.

They discovered a mutual dislike of itchy formal clothing.

Avery accidentally snorted water through his nose laughing at one of D3r's dry comments about royal etiquette, and D3r nearly choked trying not to laugh in return.

By the time dessert arrived, the earlier awkwardness had disappeared entirely.

Then the conversation shifted.

“As unfortunate as the misunderstanding regarding Avery's title was,” Avery's father began, setting down his teacup, “I don't believe it changes our intentions.”

D3r looked up.

“...Intentions?“ Avery echoed.

His father cleared his throat, “The arrangement between our kingdoms.”

“...Oh.”

The room became very quiet.

D3r looked at Avery and Avery looked back at him.

“You still want us to get married?“ Avery asked.

His mother blinked, “eventually.”

“You've only just met,” D3r's father added quickly. “Nothing would happen for years.”

“You're children,” Avery's father said gently. “You would have every opportunity to decide for yourselves.”

“You thought D3r was meeting a princess,” Avery frowned.

“We did.”

“And now you know I'm not.”

“Yes.”

“...And you're still okay with it?“

Silence.

Then D3r's father sighed.

“You've spent one afternoon together,” he said. “You've become friends despite an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

He looked between them, “I think that matters far more.”

Avery stared, then slowly his gaze shifted toward D3r, “...How do you feel about it?“

D3r thought about the morning.

About the nerves.

About love at first sight.

About Avery crouched beside the pond cooing over clumsy cygnets.

He thought about how easy it had been to talk to him.

How natural.

“...I don't know,” D3r admitted honestly, “we just met.”

Avery nodded, “We're friends, though.”

“...Could we stay friends first?“

His father smiled. “I think that's an excellent place to start.”

“Okay,” Avery visibly relaxed.

He looked at D3r before smiling, “I think I'd like that.”

D3r looked back at him.

“...After lunch,” Avery whispered, leaning slightly closer, “can we go see the cygnets again?“

“Yeah,” D3r smiled.

Avery grinned, “Good. I think one of them liked me.”

“You think all of them liked you.”

“They did.”

“...You sound very confident about that.”

Avery straightened in his chair with complete seriousness, “D3r.”

“What?“

“The cygnets chose me.”

D3r snorted loudly enough that both kings looked over in surprise.

For the first time that day, he realized he was genuinely looking forward to whatever came next.

The second summer Avery visited, D3r was waiting by the palace entrance before the carriages had even come into view.

He had told himself that it was because he wanted to be polite.

His father had raised an eyebrow at the explanation and D3r had pretended not to notice.

When Avery finally arrived and stepped out of the carriage, his face had immediately lit up with a smile.

“D3r!” Avery hadn't waited for a servant to announce him properly before hurrying down the steps to where D3r was waiting for him.

His hair had gotten a little longer in the past year.

The golden chain was still around his neck.

“You kept it,” D3r blurted out before he could stop himself from saying anything.

Avery looked down at where the locket would be if it weren't hiding under his shirt before gently tugging it out by the chain.

“Of course I did,” he frowned, “did you think I'd lose it?“

“...Maybe.”

Avery gasped in mock offense, “I'll have you know that I only lose important things occasionally!”

“...That's not reassuring.”

“It should be.”

It really wasn't but D3r found himself smiling anyway.

They visited the cygnets first.

Well, technically, these weren't the same cygnets; the ones from the year before had grown into elegant swans already.

But Avery still cooed over the new babies just as enthusiastically as he had the year prior.

“They're so small.”

“You said that last year.”

“They're small every year,” Avery laughed.

D3r found that it was quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds.

+-+-+

The third summer, Avery had dragged D3r into the library, not that D3r had even remotely needed to be encouraged to go there.

“You've read all these?“ Avery asked, staring up at the towering shelves.

“Most of them.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“You asked me where I liked disappearing into the castle.”

“I wasn't expecting this many books.”

“It's a library“

Avery chose not to respond to that and instead plucked a book from a shelf and settled down beside D3r near the windows.

Outside D3r could see the gardens gently swaying back and forth in the breeze.

Inside Avery was leaning close enough that their shoulders bumped whenever either of them turned a page.

Sometimes Avery would interrupt the silence to read aloud a funny paragraph, or make a face at whatever strange passage he was at, and sometimes he'd fall asleep halfway through reading with his head ending up resting on D3r's shoulder.

D3r would end up sitting very, very still. He'd never had the heart to wake Avery.

+-+-+

The fourth summer, they were allowed to see the horses more often.

D3r almost instantly learned why they hadn't been allowed to ride by themselves until now.

“D3r!”

“What?!”

“Look!”

“I am looking!”

Avery stood balanced atop the low fence bordering one of the paddocks; he was looking entirely too confident for his own good.

“Don't do that!”

“You sound like my tutors!”

“You could fall!”

“I won't!” Avery yelled back before immediately slipping and falling.

D3r lunged forward and Avery landed half on top of him.

There was a stunned silence.

“...I didn't fall,” Avery said eventually.

“You absolutely fell.”

“But you caught me.”

D3r's face felt hot. “...You're impossible.”

“You still caught me.” Avery grinned.

He never could think of a proper response to that.

+-+-+

The fifth summer, D3r realized Avery had changed.

Not dramatically or even all at once.

But suddenly Avery's voice had deepened slightly, his face had begun to lose some of its childish softness, his shoulders had broadened, and weirdest of all, he'd grown taller.

The first thing Avery did upon arriving was complain about it.

“I hit my head getting into the carriage.”

“You've grown.”

“So have you.”

Avery squinted up at him, “...you're taller than me, why are you taller than me?“

“You noticed?“

“I hate it.”

“You'll probably catch up.”

“You sound very confident about that.”

“I don't think it'd bother me if you didn't,” D3r glanced at him.

Avery blinked before smiling at him.

+-+-+

The sixth summer, they danced.

Or rather, D3r was attempting to teach Avery how to dance.

In all honesty, D3r should have expected that it'd end up like this.

“You keep stepping on my feet.”

“You keep moving them into my way.”

“That's not how dancing works.”

“Then dancing is stupid.”

“It isn't stupid.”

“It absolutely is.”

“You have to do this at formal events.”

“I intend on avoiding formal events for forever.”

“You are literally a prince.”

Avery just groaned in response and D3r fought back a laugh.

D3r had noticed over the past couple of years that Avery was very charming when he was trying not to pout. It was something he tried not to smile too much at.

Eventually, Avery got frustrated enough to grab D3r's hands. “D3r.”

“Hm?“

“You lead.”

“What?“

“You know what you're doing.”

“...Not really?“

“You know more than I do at least.” Avery's fingers tightened around his, “Please?“

D3r's heart skipped a beat, “...okay.”

It shouldn't have felt as significant as it did; it was only dancing practice after all. They were only friends, just friends who'd known each other for years, just friends who would someday wed.

It shouldn't have mattered that Avery trusted him enough to follow his lead. It shouldn't have mattered that Avery smiled at him all soft and fond every time D3r successfully guided him through another part of the dance.

It shouldn't have mattered that D3r remembered exactly how Avery's hands felt in his own long after practice ended.

But it did.

It mattered so much.

+-+-+

The seventh summer, Avery had ended up crying when one of the palace swans died.

It wasn't dramatic; there weren't any tears in front of the entire court.

Instead, D3r had found him sitting quietly and far too still near the pond after supper.

The golden locket rested between Avery's fingers, the chain slipping out and swaying in the light breeze.

“He was old,” Avery eventually whispered after they'd been sitting in silence for a few minutes.

“I know.”

“He used to eat out of my hand.”

D3r sat beside him, not near enough to touch Avery but close enough that Avery could still feel him there. He'd wait an eternity for Avery, but now wasn't the time to mention that.

For a while, neither of them spoke, just settled in the moment. But eventually Avery leaned against him.

D3r froze.

“...Sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize.”

“...Can I stay like this?“

D3r swallowed, “Of course.”

“I think he would have liked the cygnets.” Avery gently rested his head against D3r's shoulder.

“I think so too, ” D3r stared out over the pond. His heart was beating way too fast, and he was surprised that it wasn't audible.

He didn't move away.

+-+-+

The eighth summer, D3r realized he was in love with him.

It wasn't all at once; there wasn't lightning, no dramatic music.

No sudden revelation beneath the stars.

It happened slowly; it had been happening for years, over every summer they'd spent together.

It was Avery asking if they could visit the cygnets first.

It was Avery falling asleep in libraries.

It was Avery laughing so hard that he snorted during dinner.

It was Avery's habit of reaching for D3r's hand without thinking whenever he got excited.

It was the way he wore the golden swan locket every single day.

It was knowing exactly how Avery took his tea.

How he hated thunderstorms but loved rain.

How he cried over injured animals.

How he always tucked flowers behind the ears of marble statues in the gardens because “they look lonely.”

D3r noticed it one evening near the pond.

The newest group of cygnets paddled after their parents and Avery was crouched near the water's edge watching them with something so fond in his expression that it made D3r's heart hurt a little.

“They're so cute,” Avery whispered.

“They're a little awkward.”

“They're trying their best.”

The sunset painted gold across Avery's face, the light reflecting in those beautiful green eyes, his hair catching the light with streaks of gold.

The golden locket gleamed softly against his chest.

He turned toward D3r. “You've gotten really quiet.”

“...Have I?“

“Are you okay?“ Avery tilted his head.

D3r looked at him.

At Avery.

His Avery. His best friend. The boy he'd spent every summer with since they were children.

The person D3r missed every winter.

The person he searched for first in crowded rooms.

The person whose letters he reread when the castle felt too empty.

The person who knew him better than almost anyone else.

“...Yeah,” D3r said softly.

“Good,” Avery smiled before nudging D3r's shoulder. “Come look.”

One of the cygnets had somehow managed to climb onto its parent's back.

“Oh,” Avery breathed.

D3r barely noticed the bird.

He was too busy watching the way Avery's entire face lit up.

The joy.

The warmth.

The affection.

His chest ached with it.

D3r thought back to being a child and wondering how anyone could possibly fall in love with someone they didn't know.

How ridiculous love at first sight had sounded.

He understood now.

He hadn't fallen in love at first sight.

He'd fallen in love with Avery one summer at a time.

And somehow, without D3r realizing it until it was far too late, Avery had become the most important part of every year.

“D3r?“

“Hm?“

Avery pointed excitedly toward the pond. “The cygnet sneezed.”

D3r looked at him, then smiled helplessly. “It did.”

And, because Avery immediately began excitedly explaining why sneezing baby swans were objectively the cutest creatures in existence, D3r thought that perhaps this was better than any fairy tale he'd ever read.

Not love at first sight, just friendship summer after summer.

Until one day, D3r looked at Avery and realized he'd given him his heart somewhere along the way, and Avery had never even noticed he'd been holding it.

Years had a way of slipping by unnoticed.

One summer had turned into another, then another still, until they'd grown up and weren't the little boys who'd argued over the right name for baby swans anymore.

The arranged marriage that had once seemed like an impossibly distant concern was suddenly only weeks away now.

The palace had erupted into controlled chaos.

Tailors hurried through hallways with armfuls of fabric, florists debated over arrangements, cooks tested and tasted recipes for two kingdoms celebrating together, and nobles seemed to materialize out of absolutely nowhere with opinions nobody had asked for.

D3r escaped the bustle whenever he could, but unfortunately, there was only so much hiding a crown prince could do.

“You need to hold still.”

“I have been holding still.”

“Stay even more still.”

D3r tried his best not to sigh as yet another tailor circled him with a measuring ribbon.

The jacket he'd been fitted for yesterday apparently needed to be adjusted because his shoulders had broadened again.

He hadn't realized that people could become so upset over half an inch of fabric.

Across the room, Avery was watching with poorly concealed amusement. “You look miserable."

“I am miserable.”

“They're only measuring you.”

“They've been measuring me for two hours.”

“It's only been about twenty minutes.” Avery gently teased him.

“It feels like I've been standing here for longer.”

Avery laughed at him and D3r smiled despite himself.

“There,” the tailor declared. “Perfect.”

“It wasn't perfect yesterday?”

“You grew.”

“...If you say so.”

The tailor merely gave him a knowing look before shooing him away.

D3r escaped the room before anyone else could decide that he needed to be measured or worse.

Avery fell into step beside him.

“You know,” Avery hummed, “I'm beginning to think that you're avoiding all the wedding preparations.”

“I'm not avoiding them.”

“You hid in the library all day yesterday.”

“...Allegedly.”

Avery bumped his shoulder, “You know that you can just admit you're overwhelmed, right?”

“I could,” D3r glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“And?”

“I won't.”

Avery rolled his eyes fondly, “You are so unbelievably stubborn.”

“So I've been told.”

They wander into the gardens almost without thinking.

The pond had become their place over the years.

The latest family of swans drifted peacefully across the water while a new group of cygnets paddled after them.

Avery immediately smiled at the sight, “There are new babies.”

“There's new ones every spring.”

“I know.” Avery sounded as delighted as he did the first time seeing them.

D3r leaned against the old willow tree overlooking the pond. He was watching Avery kneel near the shore, softly cooing over one particularly brave and adventurous cygnet that had wandered away from its parents.

The sunlight caught the golden swan locket around Avery's neck.

He'd never stopped wearing it, not once.

“You've gotten quiet,” Avery commented without turning around.

“...Thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“So I've been told.”

Avery laughed again and D3r loved the sound of it.

There were many things he loved about Avery: his kindness, his curiosity, the way he made D3r's day better just by being there, how he automatically reached for D3r's arm when they walked together, and he loved how naturally Avery fit into every corner of D3r's life.

He loved—

D3r stopped himself.

The feeling had stopped being frightening years ago; now it was simply… part of him.

He'd long since accepted that he loved Avery.

The only part he wasn't sure about was whether Avery loved him the same way.

Sometimes it felt obvious.

Sometimes Avery would smile at him in a way that made D3r's heart race; he'd absentmindedly leave their fingers together while they walked, or he'd fall asleep leaning against D3r during long carriage rides.

Other times…

Other times, D3r wondered if Avery simply loved him the way he'd always loved his closest friend.

And maybe that was enough, maybe it'd always been enough.

If Avery never loved him romantically…D3r thought he could live with that

Because even then, he still got to spend his life with Avery, with his best friend, with the person he'd choose every single time.

“D3r?”

“Hm?”

“You smiled.”

“I did?”

“You look happy.”

D3r looked at Avery for a long moment, “...I am.”

“Good.” Avery's smile softened.

Neither of them said anything after that; they simply stood together watching the cygnets.

It felt wonderfully ordinary.

The following morning arrived far too quickly for D3r's liking.

Avery's kingdom expected him home.

There were still preparations to oversee before the wedding.

More fittings.

More planning.

More meetings neither of them wanted to attend.

“I'll see you in three weeks,” Avery said as servants loaded the last trunks in the royal carriage.

“Three weeks.”

“It'll go quickly.”

“It won't.”

“No,” Avery laughed, “it won't.”

And for a moment there, neither of them moved.

Then Avery stepped forward and wrapped D3r in a quick embrace, “I'll miss you.”

D3r hugged him back without hesitation, “I'll miss you too.”

When they pulled apart, Avery adjusted the golden swan locket out of habit.

“I'll write.”

“You'd better.”

“I always do.”

“I know.”

Avery smiled at him one last time before climbing into the carriage beside his parents.

The horses started forward and D3r stood on the palace steps until the procession disappeared over the distant hill.

It was only then, after he couldn't see them, that he headed back inside.

Three weeks.

He could survive three weeks.

+-+-+

He lasted four days.

By the fifth morning, he had already reread Avery's most recent letter twice.

His father caught him smiling at it over breakfast.

“You miss him.”

“I do.” D3r saw no use in denying it; he missed his Avery.

“I imagine he'll be doing the same.”

D3r hoped so.

+-+-+

The messenger arrived just before sunset, his horse was breathing heavily and the man's face was white.

He nearly stumbled climbing down from the saddle.

“Your Majesty!” The panic in his voice made every conversation in the courtyard stop abruptly.

The King turned immediately, “What is it?”

“The western road–” The man struggled to catch his breath, “the royal procession–”

“What happened?” D3r felt something cold settle in his stomach.

“The escort never reached the border.”

Silence.

“The scouts found–” the messenger swallowed hard, “they found– they found–”

D3r didn't remember running off without hearing the messenger finish, nor did he remember mounting his house.

He only remembered riding.

The world blurring past with branches whipping overhead and thorns threatening to drag him off his horse.

His father shouted something behind him but D3r didn't hear a word of it.

D3r wasn't sure how long he'd been riding for but he couldn't think about anything other than Avery, hoping that he was alright despite the pit growing in his stomach.

He had to hope.

Please.

Please let them be alright.

Please, please let his Avery come back to him.

The smell was the first thing that D3r noticed.

Smoke.

Burnt wood.

Then came the horses; several wandered aimlessly through the trees, reins dragging across the ground.

One of the royal banners had been torn nearly in half.

The first carriage wheel lay thirty yards from everything else.

D3r slowed.

No.

No.

The main carriage–or what remained of it at least–looked as though something had struck it with impossible force.

Fragments of wood lay everywhere; parts of the frame had been twisted into shapes no ordinary weapon or weaponsman could dream of producing.

The earth itself was blackened.

Trees surrounding the road had been split down their middles, bark scorched by strange golden burns that still shimmered faintly.

Magic.

Not ordinary magic.

Something darker.

Soldiers were already searching through the wreckage. Some were injured and others simply stared blankly.

No one spoke above a whisper.

D3r slid from his horse before it had fully stopped. “Avery?”

No answer.

“Avery!” He hurried toward the shattered carriage.

Nothing.

Just more splintered wood and shards of glass.

The silver crest of Avery's kingdom lay cracked in two beneath a fallen wheel.

One of the royal guards approached him slowly. His armor was blackened with soot and there was blood running down one side of his face.

“My Prince...”

“Where is he?”

The guard's expression faltered.

“We–” His voice broke. “We don't know.”

“What?” D3r stared.

“There are...” the guard swallowed hard. “There are no bodies.”

“...What?”

“The king, the queen... Prince Avery.” He looked toward the ruined carriage. “They're simply...”

He couldn't finish the sentence.

D3r turned slowly.

The center of the road had been carved with an enormous circle burned into the earth. Symbols had been gouged into the stone beneath the carriage.

Ancient.

Unnatural.

Cold.

That was the first thing Avery noticed.

Not pain.

Not fear.

Just an overwhelming, damp sort of cold that seeped into his bones.

His eyelids fluttered open.

Stone.

The ceiling above him was rough, uneven rock illuminated by flickering torchlight. Water dripped steadily somewhere deeper in the cavern, each drop echoing through the silence.

“...Mm...”

His head hurt.

The last thing he remembered was climbing into the carriage with his parents.

Talking about wedding flowers.

His mother teasing him because he'd unconsciously been playing with the golden swan locket around his neck again.

Then...

Golden light.

Someone screaming.

The horses panicking.

Magic.

Avery sat upright too quickly. “My—”

His parents.

“Father?”

Nothing.

“Mother?”

Only echoes answered him.

He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as dizziness washed over him.

The cave was larger than he'd first thought.

Ancient pillars carved with strange symbols disappeared into the darkness overhead. Strange tapestries hung from the walls, depicting impossible shapes that seemed almost painful to look at for too long.

“...Wonderful,” Avery muttered. “I've been kidnapped.”

A rusty iron gate blocked the only obvious exit.

“...Less wonderful.”

Footsteps echoed outside and Avery immediately straightened.

The gate creaked open.

Three people walked inside. All three wore heavy yellow robes embroidered with strange black symbols. One carried a loaf of bread, another had a bucket, and the third appeared to have forgotten why he'd come.

“There he is!” the first declared triumphantly.

“He's awake!”

“I told you he'd wake up eventually,” said the second.

“I thought he was dead.”

“You think everyone's dead.”

“It's usually fifty-fifty.”

Avery blinked. “...Excuse me?”

The three cultists looked at him, then at one another.

“...He talks,” one whispered.

“He is a prince.”

“I know princes talk.”

“You sounded surprised.”

“I was surprised!”

The third one finally seemed to remember his purpose.

“Oh!” He held the bucket out proudly. “Water.”

“...Thank you?”

“You're welcome.”

There was an awkward silence.

“...So...” Avery ventured carefully. “Am I allowed to ask why I've been kidnapped?”

The three exchanged another look.

“...The ritual.”

“Right.”

“The ritual.”

“We already said that.”

“You didn't.”

“Oh.”

“...Well.”

“The ritual.” The first cultist nodded importantly.

Avery waited. “...That's it?”

“...Yes.”

“...What ritual?”

“The ritual.”

Avery stared. “...You're not very good at explaining things.”

“We're excellent at explaining things.” The second cultist looked offended.

“You've explained exactly one thing.”

“We have?”

“...You keep saying 'the ritual.'“

“Oh.”

The third cultist scratched his head beneath his hood. “I thought someone else explained it.”

“I thought you explained it.”

“I didn't explain anything.”

“...Well.”

“Our glorious King shall surely reward us.” The first cultist cleared his throat dramatically.

“The greatest reward.”

“The best reward.”

“We kidnapped royalty!”

“...That seems like the sort of thing kings usually dislike.” Avery frowned.

“Not our King.”

“Our King loves sacrifices.”

“The biggest sacrifices.”

“We're going to be heroes.”

The three of them nodded proudly.

Avery wasn't entirely convinced. “...Which king?”

“Our glorious King.”

“Yes.”

“I got that part.”

“The King in Yellow.”

“...Right.” Avery had never heard of such a king.

“He'll definitely reward us.”

“The biggest reward.”

“So much reward.”

“...You've never actually met him, have you?”

Silence.

“...No.”

“We've read about him.”

“The old texts.”

“They're very convincing.”

“...You've kidnapped a foreign prince...”

“Correct.”

“...To impress a king you've never met.”

“Exactly.”

“...Without asking whether he'd actually want that.”

The three cultists looked at each other.

“...Hm.”

“Nah.”

“He'll love it.”

“I'm sure.”

Avery slowly covered his face with one hand. “Oh, you're all idiots.”

“We're devoted.”

“That's... not mutually exclusive.”

+-+-+

The cultists dragged him outside just as the sun disappeared beyond the mountains.

“Where are we going?”

“The lake.”

“What lake?”

“The ritual lake.”

“...Everything is a ritual to you people.”

“It is.”

The trees eventually opened into a beautiful clearing.

Moonlight spilled across an impossibly still lake. Its surface reflected the stars so perfectly that it was difficult to tell where the sky ended and the water began.

For just a moment, Avery forgot he was a prisoner.

It was beautiful.

Then someone began chanting.

The symbols carved around the shoreline ignited with pale gold light and the air became impossibly heavy.

“...Something's wrong.” Avery's stomach twisted.

The chanting grew louder.

Magic wrapped around him.

Cold.

Far colder than before.

He cried out as golden light erupted beneath his feet.

It felt as though every bone in his body bent in impossible directions, feathers burst from his arms as his fingers fused together. His vision lurched violently before shrinking lower and lower toward the ground.

The world exploded into unfamiliar colors.

The chanting stopped and silence settled over the lake.

“...Did it work?” one cultist whispered.

“I think so.”

“It definitely worked.”

“...What's the plan now??

“...I hadn't thought that far.”

“You never think that far.”

Avery stared at them. He wanted to scream, but what came out wasn't a scream; it was a sharp, indignant honk.

“...He's a swan.”

“I noticed.”

“...A very fancy swan.”

“Ooh.” One cultist crouched. “Look.”

His feathers weren't ordinary black.

Moonlight rolled across them in shimmering waves, each feather reflecting deep emerald green like polished gemstones beneath water.

“...Pretty.”

“So pretty.”

“I've never seen one like that.”

Avery looked down.

Black wings.

Black feathers.

Long black neck.

“...”

He blinked before flapping his wings experimentally.

“...”

He was a bird.

He was—he was a swan.

Avery stared blankly into the lake. The reflection staring back wasn't human: a magnificent black swan gazed back at him, feathers glimmering green wherever the moonlight touched them.

“...Well,” one cultist announced proudly.

“The curse worked.”

“It sure did.”

“...How do we undo it?”

Silence.

“...Undo it?”

“...Yeah.”

Another silence.

“...There was an undoing part?”

“I assumed someone else knew.”

“I thought you knew.”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Avery slowly lowered his head into the water.

He considered drowning himself, but unfortunately, he suspected swans were rather good at swimming.

“...Maybe...” One cultist nervously raised a hand. “...Maybe if he's standing in moonlight?”

They all looked at Avery.

“Try the moon.”

“...That's not how curses work.”

The moment Avery stepped into the silver path cast across the lake—

Light engulfed him.

His wings folded inward.

Feathers dissolved into shimmering particles.

He stumbled forward onto human legs with a splash, soaking himself from the knees down.

He stared at his hands.

“...I'm...”

Human.

“...It worked!”

“It did!”

“We're geniuses!”

Avery looked up. “...You guessed.”

“We guessed correctly.”

“That's basically genius.”

“...You're impossible.”

One cultist nodded thoughtfully. “So...”

“He can only be human in moonlight.”

“...At this lake.”

“...Specifically this lake.”

“...Otherwise he's a swan.”

“...That sounds inconvenient.”

“It sounds like your problem.”

Avery stared at them in complete disbelief.

He'd been kidnapped by the least competent cult in recorded history.

The following morning began with Avery discovering that being a swan came with entirely too many inconveniences.

For one thing—

Doors.

Doors were apparently designed by people who had never once considered the needs of large aquatic birds.

Avery had spent nearly five minutes attempting to waddle through one before giving up and simply glaring at it.

One of the cultists eventually noticed.

“Oh.” He opened the door. “There you go.”

Avery honked at him.

“You're welcome.”

It wasn't until that evening, when the moon climbed high enough for Avery to become human again at the lakeshore, that the cultists seemed to collectively remember something.

“...Wait.”

“...What?”

“The curse.”

“What about it?”

“There was another part.”

The three cultists froze. Then, in perfect unison, they sprinted toward one of the moldy bookshelves lining the cave.

“No, no, no—”

“It was in here!”

“I know it was!”

Books immediately began flying in every direction, and dust filled the air.

One particularly enthusiastic cultist somehow managed to knock himself over while reaching for a scroll on the highest shelf.

Avery watched from his spot beside the lake. “...Should I help?”

“No!”

“We've got it!”

“I definitely put it somewhere!”

“You said that about your boots.”

“I found those eventually.”

“They were on your feet.”

“...Right.”

After nearly twenty minutes of increasingly frantic searching, one of them let out a triumphant shout. “I found it!”

The others crowded around immediately.

“What does it say?”

The cultist cleared his throat dramatically before reading aloud. “'The cursed soul shall wear the form of a swan beneath the sun and know the shape of man only beneath the light of the sacred moon upon the enchanted lake.'”

“...Yeah.”

“We know that part.”

“Keep reading.”

“'The enchantment may be undone before its appointed end only through the kiss of one's true love.'”

Silence.

Avery blinked. “...Really?”

The three cultists looked at him.

Then back at the book.

Then back at Avery.

“...Huh.”

“So...”

“It is a fairy tale.”

“I thought curses were always fairytale things.”

“No, but this is specifically a fairytale thing.”

“...Huh.”

“A true love's kiss?” Avery rubbed at his temples.

“Apparently.”

One of the cultists nodded sagely. “Classic.”

“Very traditional.”

“Can't go wrong with tradition.”

Avery stared at the water.

True love's kiss.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that; he'd never kissed anyone before, and he'd certainly never expected the fate of his entire life to depend on it.

“...Well,” he said after a moment, “I am engaged.”

The three cultists immediately burst into laughter.

Avery frowned. “...What's funny?”

“Oh, that's a good one.”

“It really is.”

“You almost had me.”

“I wasn't joking.”

The laughter stopped.

“You... weren't?”

“No.”

“That won't work.” The first cultist waved a dismissive hand.

“...Why not?”

“Because it's an arranged marriage.”

Avery blinked. “...And?”

“So your fiancé obviously isn't your true love.”

Silence.

“...What?”

“Everyone knows arranged marriages are political.” The second cultist nodded with complete confidence. “The whole point is that they're not about love.”

“Exactly.”

“You don't even have to like each other.”

Avery opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “...We've known each other since we were children.”

“Still arranged.”

“We're best friends.”

“Still arranged.”

“We write letters.”

“Still arranged.”

“I—” Avery stopped. “I'm fairly certain he actually likes me.”

The third cultist shrugged.

“I'm sure he likes you but true love?” he made a skeptical face. “Nah.”

“You don't know him.”

“We don't have to.”

“It's an arranged marriage.”

“Those never work.”

“This isn't a fairy tale.”

Avery stared at them. “...You're saying that while standing beside an enchanted lake.”

“Yes.”

“A magical curse turned me into a swan.”

“Correct.”

“You worship an eldritch king.”

“Obviously.”

“And your problem with the story is...”

“...The arranged marriage part.”

“It isn't romantic enough.”

Avery actually laughed.

He couldn't help it, it started as a tiny chuckle before quickly becoming full-fledged laughter.

The cultists looked deeply offended.

“What's so funny?”

“You!” Avery managed between laughs. “All of you!”

“What did we do?”

“You somehow accept the giant magical bird curse without question—”

“It was in the book.”

“—but the idea that two people in an arranged marriage could genuinely fall in love is where you draw the line?”

“...Yes.”

“That's unrealistic.”

Avery laughed harder. “i've known D3r for years.”

“So?”

“We grew up together.”

“So?”

“He's my favorite person.”

“So?”

“I—” The words caught in his throat and the laughter faded.

His favorite person.

His best friend.

The one person who had never treated him like an obligation.

The one who always remembered which flowers he liked.

Who took him to see every new family of cygnets.

Who gave him the golden swan locket he still wore every single day.

Who always let Avery steal the last pastry.

Who danced with him long after practice had ended simply because Avery had enjoyed it.

Who smiled whenever Avery laughed.

Who looked at him as though he mattered.

“...”

“Hello?” One of the cultists snapped his fingers in front of Avery's face.

Avery blinked. “...Sorry.”

“You were thinking.”

“...Yeah.”

“What about?”

Avery looked down at the golden locket resting against his chest.

He'd never really questioned the engagement.

It had simply...

Become part of his life.

Something inevitable.

Comforting.

Natural.

He'd always been happy it was D3r.

He'd just... never stopped to ask himself why he was so happy about it being D3r.

“...Nothing,” Avery said quietly.

The cultists shrugged.

“Well.”

“Doesn't matter anyway.”

“Your fiancé definitely isn't your true love.”

“Absolutely impossible.”

“We're very confident.”

Avery looked toward the moonlit surface of the lake, toward his reflection, toward the golden swan resting against his heart.

“...”

For the first time in his life, he wondered if perhaps he wasn't simply looking forward to marrying his best friend because they had been promised to one another for years.

Maybe...just maybe... he'd been looking forward to it because the thought of spending the rest of his life with D3r had never once sounded like a duty.

It had always sounded like home.

He smiled faintly.

“...You know,” he murmured mostly to himself, “you three really don't know D3r at all.”

“Nope.”

“Never met him.”

“Sounds nice, though.”

“He is.”

The answer came so quickly that Avery didn't even think before saying it.

The cultists exchanged glances.

“...Still not your true love.”

Avery rolled his eyes. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I hope, when D3r inevitably comes looking for me, he proves every single one of you wrong.”

The cultists laughed.

“Princes don't rescue people.”

“They send knights.”

“It's much safer.”

“Exactly.”

Avery looked up at the stars and smiled to himself.

They really were idiots.

D3r was absolutely going to come.

Whether he managed to find the lake... well, that was another question entirely.

Being a swan was still inconvenient.

He couldn't exactly read or write.

Or explain that he would very much appreciate someone scratching the feathers between his shoulders because he couldn't quite reach them.

But... it wasn't all terrible.

Swimming, for instance, was wonderful.

He hadn't expected that.

The moment he slipped into the enchanted lake each morning, instinct simply... took over.

His feet carried him effortlessly across the water, and his feathers stayed perfectly dry. The water felt cool beneath him without ever becoming uncomfortable.

He understood why swans spent so much time floating.

It was relaxing.

He'd never admit that to the cultists, and unfortunately for them, relaxing also meant he had far too much free time.

“Oh,” one of the cultists looked down, “my shoe.”

Avery looked down at the cultist’s now shoeless foot.

The man's boot floated serenely across the lake behind Avery.

The cultist frowned. “...How?”

Avery looked innocently at the sky; he definitely hadn't untied it while the man had been distracted.

Definitely not.

+-+-+

Another day, another opportunity.

One of the cultists had made the mistake of setting an entire basket of apples beside the shore.

Avery waited.

Patiently.

The moment the man looked away—

Splash.

Every apple entered the lake.

One by one.

The cultist turned just in time to watch the last apple bob peacefully away.

“...”

“...”

He slowly looked toward Avery.

Avery was already floating several feet away looking completely innocent.

“...It was him.”

“It was definitely him.”

“How did he even carry that many?”

“I don't know.”

“He doesn't have hands.”

+-+-+

The cultists eventually tried to outsmart him.

“We'll hide everything.”

“Good idea.”

“No more stolen things.”

“No more floating shoes.”

“No more wet robes.”

Avery watched them proudly store every loose object inside the cave.

He nodded to himself.

Very clever.

That afternoon, they discovered that swans could, in fact, open simple wooden gates if sufficiently motivated.

+-+-+

The problem came at night when the moon rose, when feathers dissolved into skin, when he became Avery again.

Because suddenly the silence became much louder.

The lake was beautiful, and the stars reflected perfectly across its surface.

The air smelled clean.

But there wasn't another voice beside him saying—

“Look, Avery.”

“The cygnets hatched.”

“You named another one?”

“You can't keep all of them.”

“You absolutely cannot sneak that swan into the palace.”

He'd gotten so used to spending every summer with D3r that being alone felt...

Wrong.

The golden locket rested against his chest.

Avery rolled it thoughtfully between his fingers. “I miss you.”

The admission disappeared into the empty night.

No one answered.

He wondered what D3r was doing, if he blamed himself, whether he'd searched the road and what he might have found.

Whether he'd found...

The wreckage.

Avery's stomach twisted.

He knew D3r.

He knew exactly what D3r would have done.

He would have ridden there himself.

He would have searched every inch of the forest.

He would refuse to stop looking.

“...You idiot.” Avery smiled despite himself. “You'd never give up.”

He knew that as surely as he knew his own name.

D3r had always been stubborn. Quietly stubborn. The sort of stubbornness that looked gentle until someone tried to move him.

The sort of stubbornness that had once spent three hours patiently coaxing an injured swan back onto the lake because Avery had started crying over it.

The sort of stubbornness that reread books simply because Avery liked discussing them.

The sort of stubbornness that learned every trail through the palace gardens because Avery liked wandering.

“...I really miss you.”

He hadn't expected it to hurt this much. He'd gone months without seeing D3r before, it wasn't unusual since they lived in different kingdoms after all

Letters had always been enough.

Now...

Now every sunrise meant feathers.

Every sunset meant a lonely stretch of moonlit shore.

No letters.

No conversations.

No laughter.

No D3r.

Avery looked down at the locket, his thumb brushing over the engraved swan.

“You know...” He smiled faintly. “I don't think I ever thanked you properly.”

Not for the locket, not really, not for all the years.

For making an arranged marriage feel like something to look forward to instead of something to endure, for somehow becoming his best friend before either of them had even realized it, for making every summer feel too short.

He wondered if D3r missed him as much.

Then he laughed quietly to himself. “...Of course you do.”

D3r had never been very good at hiding his feelings.

Avery, on the other hand...he'd spent years convincing himself that what he felt was simply what best friends felt. That everyone looked forward to seeing their best friend all year, that everyone counted the days until summer, that everyone instinctively reached for the same person's hand, that everyone imagined growing old with their best friend and smiled.

“...”

The cultists had been unbelievably stupid, laughably so.

But one question had refused to leave Avery alone.

Is your fiancé really your true love?

He looked out across the moonlit lake.

“...I don't know.” then he smiled. “...But I hope so.”

Because if anyone in the world deserved to be his true love...

If anyone had already earned that place in his heart without either of them noticing...

It was the prince who had taught him that baby swans were called cygnets.

And Avery found himself hoping, more than ever before, that somewhere out there D3r was still looking for him.

Because if anyone could be impossibly stubborn enough to find a cursed swan hidden away by the world's most incompetent cult...

It would be his best friend.

D3r had stopped sleeping properly.

Not because he couldn't but because every time he closed his eyes he saw the shattered carriage.

Broken wood.

Blackened earth.

The enormous ritual circle burned into the road.

And nowhere—nowhere—had there been any sign of Avery.

Everyone else seemed relieved by that.

“No bodies,” they said. “As long as there's no body, there's hope.”

D3r agreed, he just wished hope didn't hurt so much.

The palace had changed; the wedding decorations disappeared almost overnight, Flowers meant for the ceremony were quietly removed, Musicians went home, Tailors stopped asking him to come in for fittings.

The castle became unbearably quiet.

Everywhere D3r looked, he found reminders: A chessboard still sitting in the library from the last game he'd played with Avery, a pressed flower was tucked inside one of his history books because Avery had insisted the bookmark looked lonely, an extra teacup automatically being brought during breakfast before a servant remembered.

“I'm sorry, Your Highness.”

D3r only nodded, he couldn't blame them.

He still caught himself expecting to hear Avery laughing somewhere down the hallway.

+-+-+

His father was furious.

Not visibly; the King never shouted, never slammed doors, never lost control, but that somehow made it worse.

Something simmered beneath the surface.

Every adviser walked more carefully around him, the servants spoke more quietly, and the palace itself seemed… uneasy.

The shadows lingered a little longer than they should have, the candles occasionally burning yellow instead of gold.

Once, D3r walked into the throne room to find his father standing completely alone, staring into nothing.

For just a heartbeat, D3r could have sworn something was standing behind his father: an impossibly tall silhouette draped in layers of yellow that didn't quite look like cloth.

Its outline hurt to focus on.

Then D3r blinked and it was gone. “...Father?”

The King turned immediately. Whatever expression had crossed his face vanished. “There you are.”

“You wanted to see me?”

“I did.” His father smiled gently and the strange feeling disappeared instantly. “Any luck?”

D3r shook his head. “No.”

The smile faded. “I didn't expect there would be.”

“I've been looking through everything.”

“I know.”

“I've checked every known cult.”

“I know.”

“I've compared symbols.”

“I know.”

“I've questioned survivors.”

“I know.”

His father rested a hand on D3r's shoulder. “You don't have to carry this alone.”

“...I'm still going to.”

The king looked at him for a long moment. “I know.”

+-+-+

Another report, another dead end.

“The witnesses all agree?”

“They wore yellow robes.” The captain nodded.

“Faces covered.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Magic?”

The captain hesitated. “...Unlike anything we've seen.”

“How?”

“It...” The old soldier searched for words. “...It didn't feel human.”

D3r looked down.

Neither had the symbols.

Neither had the strange pressure everyone described; it'd almost been like someone else had been watching.

“...Dismissed.”

Once the captain left, D3r reached for another book.

He hadn't eaten since breakfast.

He hadn't noticed.

+-+-+

“You need rest.”

“I need answers.”

His father sighed. “You've been at this for twelve hours.”

“I know.”

“You've skipped dinner.”

“I wasn't hungry.”

“D3r.”

“I'm close.”

“You say that every night.”

“I'm missing something.” D3r rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

“You are.”

“I know I am.”

His father walked around the table, his gaze settling on one particular page.

A crude sketch.

Yellow robes.

A broken crown.

An eye hidden beneath impossible folds of cloth.

“The King in Yellow,” D3r read quietly. “Almost nothing is known other than he is worshiped by scattered cults.”

“Followers seek...” He frowned. “...'To return the King to his rightful throne.'“

D3r looked a little more closely at the paper, “...That's odd.”

“What is?”

“They don't seem to know where he is.”

“No.” His father made a small, amused sound. “I suppose they wouldn't.”

D3r blinked. “...Father?”

“Hm?”

“...Nothing.”

+-+-+

The search became routine.

Wake up.

Read reports.

Ride to another village.

Question another witness.

Come home disappointed.

Repeat.

His room filled with maps.

Letters.

Books.

Loose papers.

Enough string stretched between notes that one of the maids quietly remarked that it resembled a spider's web.

D3r apologized before immediately adding another piece of string.

He couldn't stop.

If he stopped...

What if Avery needed him?

+-+-+

Three weeks after the attack, D3r found himself standing beside the palace pond.

The swans drifted peacefully across the water. A new bevy of cygnets paddled after them.

“...He would've liked these.”

The smallest one attempted to climb onto its mother's back before failing and fell into the water with an indignant splash.

And despite everything, D3r laughed.

“...You would've laughed too.”

Silence answered him.

He crouched near the shoreline.

“I miss you.” The words escaped before he realized he'd spoken. “I miss you every day.”

His fingers brushed the water. “I don't care if the wedding never happens.”

That surprised him, he'd thought he did, he'd thought he wanted—

No.

He wanted Avery, not the ceremony, not the crown, or even the alliance.

Just… Avery.

Safe.

Laughing.

Complaining about formal clothes, getting distracted by birds every five minutes.

“I don't even care if you decide you don't want to marry me.” His voice cracked. “I just...”

He swallowed hard. “I just want you home.”

Somewhere far away, Avery was probably getting himself into trouble.

Somewhere.

He had to be, because D3r refused to accept any other possibility.

He stood, straightened his jacket, and turned back toward the castle.

Another report had arrived while he'd been outside.

Another lead.

Another possibility.

Another chance.

He wasn't going to stop.

Not tomorrow.

Not next month.

Not next year.

He would search every forest.

Question every traveler.

Read every forgotten book.

If Avery were anywhere in the world...

D3r would find him.

He'd promised years ago that he'd always take Avery to see the cygnets, and D3r fully intended to keep that promise, even if he had to search the entire world first.

Nearly two months after the attack, D3r finally had something; Not a rumor, not a frightened peasant swearing they'd seen strange lights in the woods, not another abandoned ritual site that had gone cold weeks before.

Something real.

A hunter from a small village nestled against the northern mountains had reported seeing figures in yellow robes traveling through the forest after sunset.

Not once.

Repeatedly.

“They're avoiding the roads,” the captain explained, pointing across D3r's newest map.

“They only travel at night.”

“They're hiding from someone.”

D3r frowned. “Someone?”

“The hunter said they looked... frightened.” The captain shrugged.

“Frightened?”

“That's the word he used.”

D3r looked back down at the map.

Why would kidnappers be frightened? Unless… “They're moving.”

The captain nodded. “From what we've gathered, yes.”

“So Avery might still be with them.”

“We believe so.”

“Prepare the horses.” D3r didn't hesitate.

+-+-+

His father found him in the armory.

D3r had traded his usual clothes for traveling leathers, fastening the last buckle across his chest as soldiers hurried around him gathering supplies.

“You've decided.”

D3r looked up. “I have.”

“You'll leave before dawn.”

“Yes.”

The king studied him quietly. There was pride there as well as concern, but there was something else beneath both emotions that D3r couldn't quite place.

“You'll find him.”

“I have to.”

“You will.” The certainty in his father's voice was almost unsettling.

D3r smiled faintly. “I hope you're right.”

“I usually am.”

“...Fair enough.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then the king reached into the sleeve of his robe. “I have something for you.”

He withdrew a small piece of folded yellow fabric.

It wasn't silk, nor velvet, it was unlike any cloth D3r had ever seen: it shimmered strangely in the candlelight, the color shifting somewhere between gold and old parchment without ever settling on either.

Embroidered into one corner was a simple symbol.

A couple of strange lines, impossible angles, it hurt ever so slightly to look at directly.

D3r frowned. “I don't recognize this crest.”

“You wouldn't.”

“What is it?”

His father carefully folded the fabric again before placing it into D3r's hand. “A token.”

“...From whom?”

“An old friend.”

D3r turned the cloth over, the symbol still didn't resemble any royal seal he'd ever studied.

“It'll bring you luck.” His father smiled. “Keep it with you.”

D3r laughed softly. “I didn't know you believed in lucky charms.”

“I don't.”

“...Then why?”

The king's expression became oddly unreadable. “Because I believe in this one.”

“If you say so.” He slipped the folded fabric safely into the inner pocket of his coat without another question.

“I do.”

His father adjusted D3r's collar the same way he had when D3r was a child. “You've grown.”

“So I've been told.”

“I seem to remember someone complaining that formal clothes were itchy.”

D3r smiled despite himself.

Silence settled comfortably between them, then his father pulled him into a brief embrace. It wasn't something he often did, not because he was cold, but simply because he believed actions carried more meaning when they weren't constant. “I'm proud of you.”

D3r swallowed. “I just want to bring him home.”

“I know.” The king stepped back. “And you will.”

+-+-+

They rode before sunrise.

Thirty knights.

The captain.

D3r at the front.

The hunter guided them north.

“The yellow-robed ones don't camp long,” the hunter explained. “They're nervous.”

“Nervous of what?” D3r asked.

The hunter rubbed at the back of his neck. “...Couldn't say.”

“I've never seen people look over their shoulders quite like that.”

“They kept checking the sky.”

“The sky?”

“Aye.”

“As if they expected...” He trailed off.

“Expected what?”

“It sounds foolish.” The hunter laughed nervously.

“Tell me anyway.”

“...As if they expected something to be watching.”

D3r exchanged a glance with the captain.

Neither of them spoke.

+-+-+

Three days later they found them.

Smoke curled lazily through the trees, yellow robes, several tents hidden among rocky cliffs, voices drifting between the pines.

D3r raised a hand.

The knights halted immediately.

“There.”

The captain nodded. “I count at least fifteen.”

“We can take them.”

D3r studied the camp.

No obvious cages and no signs of Avery.

His chest tightened.

He reached into his coat almost absentmindedly and his fingers brushed the folded yellow cloth. Without really thinking, he pulled it free. “I wonder what Father meant...”

The fabric caught the afternoon breeze, and it unfurled and gently swayed in the breeze.

One of the cultists happened to glance up. His expression froze, he blinked, looked again, and the color drained from his face.

“...”

“...”

Very slowly the cultist pointed. “...Guys?”

“What?”

“...Guys.”

Another looked over.

“...”

“...”

“...Oh.”

The third followed their gaze.

His hood immediately slipped off as he stumbled backward.

“...”

“...”

“...No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“No, no, no.”

“That's...”

“That's the Sign.”

Silence spread through the camp as every single face went pale.

“...”

“...”

“...He knows.”

“No.”

“Worse.”

“He sent someone.”

“He knows.”

One dropped his staff and another began hyperventilating. “We kidnapped—”

“I KNOW WHO WE KIDNAPPED!”

“We're dead.”

“So dead.”

“The deadest.”

One particularly panicked cultist looked toward the heavens. “I'M SORRY!”

“NOT TO THE SKY, YOU IDIOT!” Another slapped him.

“I PANICKED!”

The oldest among them slowly removed his hood, his voice came out barely above a whisper. “...Run.”

“What?”

“...Run.”

“Leave everything.”

“Leave the camp.”

“Leave the mountain.”

“Leave the continent.”

“RUN.”

D3r stared from the treeline in complete confusion. “...”

The captain slowly lowered his sword. “...Your Highness?”

“...I...” D3r watched the cultists flee in blind, unrestrained terror without a single knight having drawn a weapon. “...I have absolutely no idea what just happened.”

Unbeknownst to him, the culists had, after all, finally recognized the family crest. But unfortunately for them… they had recognized it far too late.

Meanwhile, D3r tucked the yellow cloth safely back into his coat.

“...Well,” he muttered, “I suppose Father was right, it is lucky.”

Then, with the camp abandoned before him and hope burning brighter than it had in months, he drew his sword.

“Avery,” he whispered, “I'm here.”

The camp looked as though its occupants had vanished into thin air: cooking fires still burned and half-finished meals sat abandoned on wooden tables.

One tent had been left open, revealing blankets and hastily discarded robes scattered across the floor.

A boot lay forgotten beside the path while another rested several yards away.

D3r wasn't entirely sure how someone lost both boots while running.

“...Search everything,” he ordered.

“If Avery's here, I want him found.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The knights spread through the camp.

Some checked the tents and others searched nearby caves.

The captain knelt beside the abandoned fire, poking thoughtfully at a pot of stew. “...Still warm.”

“They left in a hurry.”

“They certainly did.”

D3r frowned. “What frightened them?”

No one had an answer and for some reason, he doubted anyone ever would.

+-+-+

A splash echoed across the clearing.

One of the younger knights looked toward the lake. “...Your Highness?”

D3r turned.

A lone black swan floated serenely across the enchanted water. Its feathers shimmered with an almost metallic emerald sheen wherever the sunlight struck them.

“...I've never seen one like that,” another knight murmured.

“It's beautiful.”

It was.

Every movement seemed effortless.

Elegant.

Graceful.

The swan turned, its dark eyes settled directly on D3r.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

Then—with an excited trumpet that sounded strangely familiar—the swan came racing across the lake's surface.

Water sprayed everywhere as its wings flapped enthusiastically.

“My prince!” one knight shouted.

Before anyone could react, the swan launched itself onto the shore.

Straight toward D3r.

“Duck!”

D3r barely had time to brace himself before forty pounds of determined waterfowl collided directly with his chest. He stumbled backward as the swan immediately began rubbing its head against his shoulder with unmistakable affection.

Silence settled over the clearing.

One knight lowered his spear.

“...Does...” Another blinked. “...Does the swan know His Highness?”

“I...” The captain looked between D3r and the bird. “...Apparently.”

D3r stared as the swan made another pleased sound before nuzzling beneath his chin. “...Hello.”

It answered by gently pecking the front of his jacket.

“...You're friendly.”

The swan practically vibrated with happiness.

“I don't think that's normal,” one knight whispered.

“No.”

“I've seen swans.”

“They're usually mean.”

“They're definitely mean.”

“This one appears... affectionate.”

The swan looked offended by the conversation and promptly shoved its head beneath D3r's arm as though claiming ownership.

“...Well,” D3r said carefully. “I suppose you can stay.”

The swan made an unmistakably happy noise.

+-+-+

The search continued: No prisoners, no hidden passages, and unfortunately, no sign of Avery.

Only abandoned belongings.

Until—

“My prince!”

D3r hurried toward one of the larger tents.

“What is it?”

“We found books.”

The captain had uncovered an old wooden chest filled with worn journals, strange scrolls, and several heavy tomes bound in cracked leather.

Symbols decorated every cover.

D3r immediately knelt beside them.

“Careful, they may be trapped.”

One by one, he began opening them.

Most were useless.

Records.

Prayers.

Mad ramblings addressed to something simply called The King.

One knight frowned. “...Cheery people.”

“No, they really weren't.”

Avery had been watching from outside the tent.

Then he saw it, the book: dark green leather with golden corners. The one they'd used to cause this mess.

His eyes widened. “HONK!”

No one looked up.

“HONK!”

Still nothing.

Avery marched directly into the tent.

“My prince—“ One knight stepped aside automatically as the swan waddled past with all the confidence of someone who clearly believed he belonged there.

“...Should we stop him?”

“I'm not wrestling a swan.”

“Fair.”

Avery reached the chest.

D3r blinked. “...What are you doing?”

Avery ignored him.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong—

There!

He immediately grabbed the edge of the correct book with his beak and began dragging it across the floor.

It was heavier than expected. One determined tug, then another, and the book slid several inches.

D3r watched in fascination. “...Captain?”

“I believe...” The captain scratched his beard. “...The swan wants your attention.”

“I gathered that.”

Avery finally succeeded in dragging the heavy tome directly against D3r's boot, then he looked up expectantly.

“...This one?”

“Honk!”

“...You specifically want this one?”

“HONK.” The swan stamped one webbed foot impatiently.

D3r exchanged an uncertain glance with the captain. “...I suppose...”

The captain picked the book up.

The leather cover bore no title, only a symbol, one he'd seen carved into the road where Avery had disappeared.

D3r's heartbeat quickened. “...Open it.”

The captain carefully flipped through brittle pages, but halfway through he stopped. “My Prince.”

“What?”

“...I think...” His expression became grim. “...This is a book of curses.”

D3r took it immediately, his eyes racing across the page. “Transformation of the unwilling subject...conditions of imprisonment...moonlight...”

His breath caught, “The cursed soul shall wear the form of a swan beneath the sun...”

The world seemed to stop.

“The enchantment may be undone...” D3r froze. “...through the kiss of one's true love.”

Silence filled the tent.

The captain read over his shoulder. “...Your Highness.”

D3r barely heard him.

His gaze drifted slowly toward the black swan sitting patiently beside him.

The emerald sheen, the way it had run straight to him, the way it refused to leave his side, the impossible intelligence in its eyes.

The swan looked back.

Their eyes met and for just one heartbeat D3r felt as though–as though he recognized them.

“...Avery?”

The swan went perfectly still before making an incredibly happy noise.

D3r forgot how to breathe.

“Oh...” His voice came out barely louder than a whisper. “...Gods.”

The swan immediately shuffled closer until it was pressed against his leg and D3r slowly lowered himself to one knee, his hands trembling.

“...It really is you.”

Avery answered by gently pressing his head into D3r's palm.

D3r laughed, then, despite every knight standing around him he started crying, not loud or dramatically. Just quiet tears of overwhelming relief as he buried both hands in glossy black feathers.

“I found you.”

The swan let out the softest, happiest sound D3r had ever heard.

“I found you.”

For several long moments, nobody in the tent spoke.

Every knight simply watched as their prince knelt on the floor with a large black swan tucked securely against his chest.

D3r couldn't seem to stop touching him: one hand rested along Avery's neck, fingers disappearing into impossibly soft feathers. The other carefully supported his body.

Just to make sure he was real.

Just to make sure he wouldn't disappear again.

“...You're warm,” D3r whispered.

Avery answered with a quiet trill, leaning further into the touch.

“I thought...” his voice caught. “I thought I'd lost you.”

Avery gently bumped his beak against D3r's forehead.

One of the older knights quietly cleared his throat, “Your Highness?”

“...Yes?” D3r looked up, his eyes still damp.

“The curse.”

Right.

The book.

He looked back down at the page.

“The cursed shall know the shape of man only beneath the light of the sacred moon reflected upon the enchanted lake.”

“...Moonlight.”

“We'll need to remain here until sunset.” The captain nodded.

D3r didn't hesitate. “Then we stay.”

“My Prince, the camp may not be secure.”

“The cultists abandoned it.”

“They could return.”

D3r tightened his hold on Avery ever so slightly. “They won't.”

The confidence surprised even him.

He looked toward the abandoned yellow robes scattered around the camp. Whatever had frightened those people… it clearly hadn't been thirty knights.

“...They won't,” he repeated.

The captain considered arguing, then he looked at the swan currently pressing his head beneath D3r's chin.

“...Very well.” He turned toward the others. “Establish a perimeter.”

The knights dispersed while D3r remained exactly where he was.

+-+-+

“...Your Highness?”

“Hm?”

“...Would you like me to hold him while you read the rest of the curse?”

“No.”

“...So you can eat?”

“No.”

“...Stretch your arms?”

“No.”

“...Perhaps—“

“No.”

The captain blinked. “...Very well.”

Avery would have laughed if he still had a human voice, but instead, he settled more comfortably against D3r's chest.

This was...nice.

Very nice.

He'd forgotten how warm D3r always was, how steady his heartbeat sounded, how D3r absentmindedly stroked his hair–or, apparently, feathers nowwhenever he was worried.

Some things never changed.

D3r continued reading through the spellbook one-handed.

It was slow going.

Every few minutes, Avery shifted just enough that the pages became difficult to turn. But D3r never complained; instead, he awkwardly balanced the heavy tome against one knee.

One knight watched this for nearly five minutes. “My Prince...”

“Hm?”

“...You could set the swan down.”

D3r looked genuinely confused. “...Why?”

“So you can read.”

“I can read like this.”

“It seems uncomfortable.”

“I'm comfortable.”

“It looks difficult.”

“I've done harder things.”

“...Such as?”

“Learning ballroom dancing.” D3r didn't even look up from the page.

Avery made a delighted little chirrup.

One of the younger knights frowned. “...Did the swan just laugh?”

“I think he did.”

+-+-+

Lunchtime came.

One of the soldiers approached carrying bread, dried meat, and fruit.

“My prince.”

D3r accepted the plate. “Thank you.”

“...Can swans eat apples?” He looked down at Avery.

The captain sighed, “I'll find out.”

Avery watched with great interest as several fully grown knights held an extremely serious discussion regarding proper swan nutrition.

“I believe grains.”

“I've seen them eat aquatic plants.”

“What about berries?”

“They probably eat fish.”

“They're swans, not herons.”

“...Fair point.”

Eventually, someone produced a handful of leafy greens which Avery accepted graciously.

D3r smiled. “Still polite.”

Avery puffed up proudly.

+-+-+

Hours passed and D3r never put him down, not once.

When he stood to stretch his legs, he simply adjusted Avery into a more comfortable cradle against his chest.

When he walked outside the tent Avery came with him.

When the captain insisted they inspect the rest of the abandoned camp D3r carried Avery the entire way.

“...Your Highness.”

“Hm?”

“...Respectfully.”

“Yes?”

“...You're carrying a swan.”

“I know.”

“...Everywhere.”

“I know.”

“...You don't intend to stop.”

“No.”

“...I thought not.” The captain sighed.

Another knight smiled. “I think it's rather sweet.”

“It is not.”

“It absolutely is.”

“It's practical.”

“...Practical?” The younger knight blinked.

“I've just found my missing fiancé.”

“...”

“...”

“...By carrying him?”

“I've already misplaced him once.”

There was a bit of a silence before several knights quietly looked away to hide their smiles.

Avery buried his beak beneath one wing, he was going to die of embarrassment.

Eventually.

Probably.

+-+-+

By late afternoon, D3r had discovered something unexpected; Avery was surprisingly heavy, not impossibly so, but just enough that his arms had begun protesting.

“...You're heavier than you look.”

Avery gave him an offended look.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

Another offended look.

“I mean... you're a very healthy swan.”

Avery nipped gently at his sleeve.

“You know exactly what I meant.”

More indignant chirping.

“I'm sorry.”

Avery forgave him almost immediately.

D3r scratched beneath his neck and the forgiveness became even more immediate.

“...You like that.”

Avery closed his eyes.

“...I think he does,” one knight observed.

“...I've discovered a weakness.”

Avery made a pleased clicking sound.

D3r laughed. “I've missed making you happy.”

The clacking stopped as Avery looked up at him.

There it was again.

That expression.

That quiet smile D3r always wore whenever he looked at Avery.

The one Avery had somehow never thought too hard about until recently.

His chest tightened.

Gods, he'd missed him.

+-+-+

The sun finally began sinking toward the horizon.

Everyone drifted naturally toward the enchanted lake.

The spellbook rested open upon a nearby stone. The curse had been very specific and no one was willing to see what would happen if the curse wasn't followed carefully

D3r stood in the water, Avery still secure in his arms. “...It should happen soon.”

“The moon's rising.” The captain nodded.

Silver light slowly crept across the lake, the water shimmering like something out of a dream.

The first rays touched Avery's feathers and golden shimmers of light burst to life across glossy black plumage.

The air changed as magic stirred.

D3r felt it immediately. “...Avery?”

The swan looked up, soft gold light gathering around him, and his feathers began dissolving into shimmering motes.

D3r instinctively tightened his hold, not because he was afraid, but because he didn't want Avery to fall.

“I've got you.” The words came automatically.

The light grew brighter.

Wings folded inward.

Feathers melted away.

Weight shifted in his arms.

Avery's eyes squeezed shut as the last traces of magic disappeared into the moonlit air.

Silence.

D3r looked down and Avery blinked slowly up at him.

Human again.

Still exactly where D3r had been holding him the entire time, curled safely in his arms.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

“...Hi,” Avery said softly.

D3r smiled.

It was small.

Relieved.

Wonderstruck.

“...Hi.”

Avery laughed weakly. “You carried me all day.”

“I did.”

“...You know you could've put me down.”

“I know.”

“You didn't have to.”

“I know.”

“...Why didn't you?” Avery tilted his head.

D3r looked at him as though the answer were obvious. “I'd just found you.”

“I wasn't ready to let go.” He adjusted his grip slightly, making sure Avery was comfortable.

Something warm spread across Avery's face; he hadn't expected to blush quite this hard.

Around them, thirty knights simultaneously found the surrounding trees absolutely fascinating.

None of them interrupted; it felt... inappropriate somehow.

Their prince had finally gotten his fiancé back and no one was about to suggest he put him down now.

“You've gotten thinner.” D3r searched Avery's face as though reassuring himself that every feature was truly there.

Avery smiled tiredly. “The food wasn't exactly memorable.”

“I'll fix that.”

“I know you will.”

“You've been sleeping outside?”

“Mostly.”

“You were frightened.”

Avery hesitated. “...Sometimes.”

“I'm sorry.” D3r's expression softened into something that made Avery's chest ache.

Avery blinked. “...Why are you apologizing?”

“I wasn't there.”

“D3r.”

“I should've—“

“You couldn't have known.”

“I should've found you sooner.”

“You found me.”

“I took too long.”

Avery reached up, resting a hand against D3r's cheek, the familiar gesture immediately silenced him.

“You found me.” He smiled. “I knew you would.”

“You... knew?”

“I never doubted it.”

“Not once?” D3r stared at him.

“I know you.” Avery shook his head. “You've always been stubborn.”

A tiny laugh escaped D3r. “So I've been told.”

“You would've searched forever.”

“I would've.”

“I know.” Avery's thumb brushed gently across D3r's cheek.

The relief on D3r's face was almost overwhelming to look at.

“You look exhausted.”

“I haven't been sleeping much.”

“...Because of me.”

“Because I couldn't stop thinking about you.” The words came so naturally that D3r didn't seem to realize he'd said them until they were already hanging between them.

His eyes widened slightly. “I...”

Avery felt his own heartbeat quicken. “You what?”

“I...” D3r looked away for the first time since finding him. He laughed quietly at himself. “I suppose this isn't how I imagined saying it.”

“Saying what?”

“When we were children...” He took a slow breath. “I thought love at first sight sounded ridiculous.”

Avery smiled faintly. “I remember.”

“I couldn't imagine loving someone without knowing them first.”

“You said friendship seemed more important.”

“It was.” D3r looked back at him.

“I didn't fall in love when I first met you.” His voice had become almost impossibly gentle. “I fell in love every summer after.”

Avery forgot how to breathe.

“It happened so slowly I didn't even notice.” D3r smiled helplessly. “You'd laugh.”

“You'd steal the last pastry.”

“You'd insist on naming every cygnet.”

“You'd fall asleep on my shoulder in the library.”

“You'd complain about dancing.”

“You'd make every palace feel more like home, and one day I realized I couldn't imagine my life without you in it.”

Avery's own vision blurred.

“I didn't know if you felt the same.”

“So I decided...” He laughed softly. “...That even if you only ever loved me as your best friend… thatI'd still consider myself lucky because I'd still get to spend my life with you.”

Avery couldn't stop smiling. “You idiot.”

“...Probably.”

“You really thought I was only excited about the wedding because our parents arranged it?”

“I– I wasn't sure.”

Avery shook his head, laughing through tears. “I counted the days until every summer because I missed you.”

D3r blinked.

“I kept every letter you ever sent me.”

Another blink.

“I wore your locket every single day.”

“I noticed.”

“I loved that it came from you.”

D3r's heart was pounding so loudly he was certain everyone around the lake could hear it.

Avery rested his forehead against D3r's.

“I thought...” He laughed quietly. “I thought I was just happy I got to marry my best friend.”

“You were.”

“I was.”

“But somewhere along the way...” His smile grew impossibly soft. “My best friend became the person I loved.”

The spellbook lay open upon the stone nearby.

Its pages shifted in the breeze.

The captain's eyes happened to drift across one particular line.

He cleared his throat quietly. “...Your Highnesses?”

Neither of them looked away from each other.

“...Hm?”

“The book.”

“What about it?”

The captain read carefully. “'The enchantment may be undone before its appointed end only through the kiss of one's true love.'“

Silence.

Avery slowly looked toward the spellbook, then back at D3r.

“...Oh.”

“...Oh.”

D3r laughed. “So...”

“...Apparently we should...” Avery's ears had gone bright red.

“I suppose...”

Neither of them moved, not immediately.

After years of waiting.

Years of wondering.

Years of assuming.

It suddenly felt almost unreal that the answer had been sitting quietly between them all along.

“May I?” D3r smiled.

Avery's answering smile was radiant. “I was wondering when you'd ask.”

D3r leaned in slowly, giving Avery every chance to pull away.

He never did.

Their lips met in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and almost impossibly gentle.

It wasn't dramatic.

There was no desperate urgency.

It felt exactly like them.

Careful.

Warm.

Years of quiet affection finally spoken without words.

The moment they kissed, the lake erupted with golden light, and magic swept outward in shimmering rings across the water.

The spellbook slammed shut as every carved symbol surrounding the shore cracked.

The air itself seemed to exhale. A warm breeze rushing through the trees.

The light surrounding Avery dissolved completely.

Not into feathers.

Not into moonlight.

Simply...

Gone.

The curse unraveled like thread pulled from a tapestry, vanishing into the night.

When they finally drew apart, neither of them had changed.

Avery remained exactly as he was.

Human.

D3r looked him over in open disbelief. “...You're still...”

Avery looked down at his own hands, then laughed. “I'm still me.”

The captain carefully reopened the spellbook. Every page describing the curse had become blank.

He smiled to himself. “I believe, Your Highnesses that the enchantment has been broken.”

D3r looked back at Avery, then, before Avery could say another word, he wrapped him in another fierce embrace. “I am never losing you again.”

“I wasn't planning on getting kidnapped again.” Avery laughed into his shoulder.

“Good.”

“That was rather inconvenient.”

“It really was.”

“And I'd much rather spend the rest of my life with my husband than as a swan.”

D3r froze. “...Husband?”

“I assume the wedding's still on?” Avery smiled, cheeks pink.

D3r laughed harder than he had in months. “I certainly hope so.”

Then, without the slightest hesitation, he kissed Avery again.

This one had nothing to do with breaking curses.

Neither of them minded that in the slightest.