Beyond the Gateway (Cranksepticeye)

Thirty-one

The band played beautiful music.
Time spun out around them.
The stars whirled overhead in the heavens.
And they danced.

On and on, they danced.
Ethan's hand at Jack's waist, and Jack let his head rest on Ethan's chest - carefully, mindful of the bandages under his shirt. He closed his eyes as he felt Ethan draw him closer. He thought he had never felt so much at home as he did right at that moment. But it wasn't the place. It was the person.
"I don't belong here, Ethan," he murmured, his senses dazzled by the sights and sounds of their surroundings. "I mean, look at these people . . . "
A troop of Seelie Fae swayed to the music, unearthly in their beauty. Jack felt like one of Cinderella's stepsisters at the ball. He knew his big clumsy foot would never fit in the glass slipper, and the only thing he couldn't figure out was why the handsome prince was still dancing with him. Ethan said nothing, but he felt his hands slide up his shoulders and up to his neck. He undid the catch on his necklace and eased the sliver chain from around Jack's neck.
He whispered, "My Firecracker . . ."
Then Jack's eyes even went momentarily blind from the wave of iridescent brilliance that filled the room, flowing out from where he stood. All around him the brightness of the beautiful, wondrous Fair Folk seemed to dim and flicker - and them answer his own shining luminescence like moons reflecting the light of the sun.
Ethan's eyes blazed with fierce pride - and something else. As Jack gazed into them, he felt his heart swell with unnameable emotion.
He felt tall. Ten feet tall. Taller than usual, even, he realized, as he looked down. He was flying. Well - floating, at least, about six inches off the floor. Jack gasped and kicked his feet, but that only served to send him another several inches into the air. At his elbow, Ethan held out a hand to catch him before he floated away. He twisted his head and saw a pair of delicate, fiery wings that seemed to have sprouted from his shoulders. They were ethereal, ghostly almost, and glimmering with iridescence and light, like the lacy wings of a dragonfly.
Herne dipped his antlered head to him in respect.
All around him, the people of the Faerie realms knelt and bowed and smiled at him.
He blushed and felt his wings shiver and their strength give way, and he fell back down toward the floor. Ethan caught him in his arms and Jack clung to him.
"You'll have to work on that," he whispered in Jack's ear as he clasped the chain around his neck. His brightness dimmed, but it did not fade alltogether. The music swelled once again, and they held each other and danced.

Later, when they sat watching others glide across the dance floor, Ethan started - as though suddenly remembering something - and reached into his leather satchel, lying on the bench beside him. He pulled put a much-rumpled stack of papers, held together with brass fasteners.
"My script!" Jack exclaimed. "I was sure Bob had stolen it!"
Ethan laughed. "He tells me he's actually a lousy theif. I'm sorry; I've been meaning to return it. In all the excitement, I sort of forgot."
Jack took it from him and hugged it against his chest like a treasure. "Thanks. I guess I'm not going to need it, though."
"You know your lines, then?"
He chuckled dryly. "In theory . . . But let's face it, Ethan. I'm an awfully long way from the Avalon. I get the feeling I won't be wearing my little gauze wings any time soon."
ethan stood abruptly. "Come with me," he said, and held out a hand. "There's one more thing I want to show you before I go."
He led Jack down an oak-paneled corridor that slowly transformed until, eventually, they found themselves walking through a green, leafy archway, a living tunnel.
"Where are we?" Jack asked.
"Think of this place as something like the wall in your play. The one with the hole in it, through which Pyramus and Thisbe can see and speak to each other. Herne's Tavern rests on the very cusp of the Otherworld - like a little bubble suspended, balancing the Faerie lands and the mortal plane. It is the one place in all of the worlds where the two realms meet and meld."
When they emerged from under the leafy canopy, Jack found himself standing on a forested shore lapped by gently rippling water. Ethan pointed in front of them: there, across the misted waters of a still, silent lake, was an island. At first it looked to Jack as though the branches of its trees were heavy with snow. But even from across the glassy water he could smell the scent of apple blossoms.
"This is as far as we can go," Ethan said. "Any farther and we would be in danger of crossing over and perhaps getting lost in the Otherworld. But I wanted you to see this place."
"It's beautiful. What is it?"
"A place of legend. The storybooks call it Avalon. Just like your theater - you see? Not so very far as all that."
Jack gazed at the distant island and sighed. "Oh, Ethan . . . This place is so full of wonders. Why does it make me so sad?"
Ethan thought about the question for a moment, his head lowered. "Maybe it's because it feels a little like home to you. The home you never knew was yours."
He shook his head, staring through tear-rimmed eyes at the island in the mist. "That Avalon is yours. Not mine. Mine is a rundown old theater full of a bunch of misfit actors and a crazy director. And I'm about to let them all down horribly. I'll never get to stand under those lights and wear those wings and speak those words."
"What makes you think that?"
"Don't lie to me, Ethan. You and your buddies seem to think I'm going to have my hands full just lasting the night. Let alone the next three."
"Two of which have probably already passed while we danced here."
"Really?"
"Really. See? You're not doing so bad with surviving so far."
"Okay, then basically the real danger is actually waiting for me back in New York at the theater."
Ethan looked at him quizzically.
"Missing dress rehersal? If I do somehow manage to get back, I'll be lucky if Quentin doesn't flay me alive."
Ethan laughed. "You will get back. I promise you. So you'd better practice your lines." He pulled Jack down to sit on a grassy patch beside him and reached for his script, flipping through it for a moment as if looking for something. He stopped on a particular page. "Here, for example." He pointed to the lines. "This scene. I'll read it with you. Now don't argue." He held up a hand. "I'll play the ass - just this once. Indulge me, Jack. Please? I'm feeling theatrical."
Jack plucked the script from Ethan's hand and scanned the page to see what scene he'd chosen. He giggled when he read his first line and handed back the script so Ethan could read opposite him. "Oh, boy! No ego there, Ethan . . . "
"Shh." He gestured dramatically. "I need to concentrate. Begin."
Jack opened his mouth wide in exaggerated yawn and stretched. "What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed?" He waited for Ethan's response, curious to see how he'd handle Bottom's silly song about a cuckoo.
Ethan's face fell a bit and he muttered, "I didn't know I'd have to sing . . . All right, we'll just skip my lines. Jump to your next speech.
Jack stifled a laugh at the seriousness of Ethan's expression, and continued with his next line. "I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note; so is mine enthrallèd to thy shape."
Okay, that part's true. It's a very nice shape.
"And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me on the first view to say, to swear, I love thee."
Ethan frowned and held up a hand. "I don't think you got that last line quite right. Say it again."
"I totally said it right!"
He ignored Jack's protestation and said, "Go from 'thy fair virtue's force."
"Ethan-"
"Uhh." Up went the hand again. It was like he was channeling the Mighty Q, for crying out loud! " 'Thy fair . . . '"
"Okay, okay!" Jack rolled his eyes and went back to the line. "And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me on the first view to say, to swear, I love thee. Better?"
"Better . . . Intonation's just a shade off on the last three words. Try those again."
"What- 'I love thee'?"
"Hm." He gestured again with one hand for him to continue.
Jack drew himself up and took a breath, concentrating on his inflection so that he could indulge Ethan in his game. Then he leaned forward and, in his best, most sincerely love-struck voice, breathed, "I love thee."
Ethan's face was just inches away from Jack's.
His eyes flashed, and the dark silk of his hair drifted across his cheek as he leaned in his head. "Perfect."
So was the kiss.
Perfect.
At the press of Ethan's lips against his, Jack felt the world around him - all the worlds around him - melt. The sweetness of Ethan's breath filled him, and he could feel his heart beating loud as thunder against Jack's own, hammering his chest.
"I love thee," Ethan murmured, all pretense gone.
With those words, tears spilled down Jack's face.
"Oh, my heart," Ethan said, and gathered Jack into his arms, and Jack wondered why he was weeping. It could habe been with fear, or sorrow - fear of losing Ethan, sorrow at what Ethan had already risked for him . . . or maybe he just wept from pure, iridescent joy. He felt all those things in that moment.
Ethan held him close for an eternity that seemed like an eye blink when they heard the approach of footsteps in the leafy forest passageway behind them. Ethan loosened his embrace but did not let Jack go, gazing down at him.
Behind them, Herne quietly cleared his throat. "Jade? I do not wish to disturb, but my doorman watches the skies of the mortal realm and informs me that there are Cailleach hovering over the park. Storm Hags. The time approaches for your departure, if you are to keep your appointment with the Darkling Queen's representatives."
"Thank you, my lord." With a reluctance Jack could feel, Ethan gently disentangled his limbs from Jack's and stood. He slung his bag over his shoulder and held Jack's script out to him. He shook his head.
"Keep it," he said, and folded his hands back over the rumpled pages. "Keep it for me. For luck."
"Only if you promise not to forget that one line," Ethan said as he stepped close again.
Jack glowed at him. "Not on your life."
"I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise." Ethan's eyes shone with a whole book of unsaid things - promises of more than just his return. "Wait for me."