Tales of Lithium

Sweep the Streets We Used to Own

A/N: this is all based on an animation idea I came up with while listening to Viva la Vida by Coldplay. Not that original but I like the characters and thought I should share it considering. Enjoy my weird ass fairytale.

Once, a pair of twin royals were running through the woods. They had been bored by training and the brother wished to show his sister a creek he had found far in the forested glade. They ran, hair long streaks of red and blonde as they barreled towards a weeping willow; who was so saddened it's leaves carpeted the ground, it's branches scratching tear tracts into the glade. Sunlight reflected off the jade waters, casting sparkling beams to bounce of the dew on the flowers and along the tall trees' bark. The trees formed a barrier from the outside, guarding the stream that nourished them. And the shielding the dream like scene was the willow, growing out of the bank with its back arched in a humble bow. Then, slowly and gradually, as the seemingly small sound grew, the two noticed a soft singing had filled the quiet peace of their new hideaway.

At first, the two presumed it had been simply the birds yet, as the song grew stronger and gained vigor they realized it was enacting from within the willow itself, where no bird would nest for it was much too close to the predatory ground. The brother was the first to dare to climb up the thick trunk, his sister climbing up hurriedly after scurrying out of her riding heels to balance on the ancient bark. As he creeped up the thick bent trunk of the willow, he heard the voice grow as it reached it's high point. The sweet sound grew fast and proud as he brushed past a stray branch as he climbed the twisted maze of the willow's tired arms. That's when he saw him.

His vibrante blonde hair, like ripe barley in the sun, flashed and pulsed as he swung his slender legs, far above the prince below, facing away as he sang some hymn to the trees above.
The music reminded the siblings of a Celtic man their father would call upon for news sometimes who sang them sweet sonnets. The blond cupped a small freckled, cream egg in the cradle of his hands as he swayed it in his limp arms, a gorgeous silvery cloak hanging loosely off his shoulders. The boy almost slipped at the sound of the boy's voice crescendoing into a booming aria.

The cloaked figure was clutching the egg to his chest, motherly in nature and the other was immediately reminded of when his mother would sing to his sister after she'd had nightmares, and how her voice would croak out from nights of strain. The figure was wholly unaware of his creeping figure, that is until his sister felt the need to speak out so she could grab his attention. Her brother immediately broke from his trance to hurriedly covered her mouth, more concerned about hearing the end of the sweet hymn than his sister's rage.

Unfortunately, the singing stopped as he muffled his sister's angry slurs. The brother turned to see the blond had hurriedly thrown his hood over his head, cradling the egg to underneath, his stance defensive but unbalanced. Although, he clearly meant to obscure his face, the brother stared directly at his eyes, a stark green in the shadows, bright, curly bangs caught in the sunlight. The sister without regard, through her brother's hand away and questioned the stranger's hidden egg. The boy moved back cautiously, crouching to stare into them. A shiver ran through the brother's spine as the boy slipped down in front of him. But the lad slipped his hood off his golden curls and gave them a soft smile. He happily asked for the two's name, a quick lie tumbling from the brother's lips, in immediate fear that relations to his horrid tyrant of a father would frighten the boy away. Thus, the blond held his tongue to not tell the young merchants of the royal troops camping in the woods to hunt good elk. He knew they couldn't alert the royal family, but he didn't wish to risk them. They talked and soon found themselves sitting on different facing branches, a small court of princes and huntress within the whispering willow. The sister inquired again over the egg, causing a grin to pass over the blond's face that made the brother's heart flutter. You see, his father was a man that valued his child's intellect and so, a few moons before, the pair had gone off tracking the migrating dragons of the south. The boy was told to track them, using incantations and mathematics to track the beasts and find the nesting grounds. Legend states that every few hundred years a comet would signal the arrival of the dragon's eggs. And it had been no less than two months before that they had found a crevice large enough to house thousands of dragon eggs. The hole was the size of the boy's fist. The boy cheerfully explained that the dragon when born, unlike the myths his friend's country thought, were actually small and snake like with ingrown horns and a love of fire ferns and roses. They grew in their knowledge with their length, showing their age and power. He explained how he wished to protect and reach the dragon he'd cradled so close, for his brother, the one only a year younger than him, wanted to make his into a fearsome beast, in hopes of devouring his own. After explaining himself in further detail until the sister was satisfied he questioned the twins over their country, causing the pair to pause out of lack of summaries about the place. It was a fine country, little poverty, kind people, large markets with easy trade to the sea and thick forested glades leading into the Northern Mountains, where the many brothers of King Delphanis guarded their kingdom of sorcery and war. The twins settled on the festivals and markets, believing that's what the children of a merchant would focus on. Though they hid any allegations to their heritage well, the princess slipped quite suddenly. As they argued over who would be a better ruler, the sister brought up how the prince was quote 'a master of strategy and flattery. Especially around certain stable boys.' This immediately raised the back's of both boys, the brothers in a state of pure alarm. Still, the blonde approached his awkwardness calmly and coaxed a soft but truthful appraisal stating many merchants and workers spoke of the Prince's interests. Instead of laughing or mocking the sister for defending the royal, he began discussing how his own country had once had two kings. How happy his uncle recalled that time, and how sorrowful the demise. The boy's flashed each other a weary smile as the cloaked boy spoke of how pure he found love, how he sought its values religiously. The sister's feet seemed more childish and bright as the swung across the sparkling creek. Yet the sun started to sink and the three found themselves in shadows of purple and blue as they stood cautiously. The blond leaped into the creek, knee deep in the sharp water as the twins slipped down the bowed trunk to soft clay. As they turned to depart, the blonde caught his shoulder, turning him back to face his bright green eyes. He dropped a pouch into his hands, whispering that'd they'd protect him. The blonde then seized his shoulders, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. It hadn't occurred to the brunette, that he was a whole head taller than him. Then the boy turned, yelling out his name, the word Mage, in a feeble attempt to explain his sudden action as the boy fumbled to pull a silver medal from his satchel, running after the boy to hand him the smooth silver medallion, only whispering that he was now the Mage's Lionhearted Knight. The two kissed underneath the creek bed, in a cave inside the falls the creek took to journey to the ocean. They were feverish and shivering from a mix of the freezing winter creeping into the long summer they had hidden away in together. The boys had met religiously, as if the willow were a cross at which they prayed to each other. Every day they pulled out each other's gifts and every day they'd placed a parting kiss on the other's cheek, but know was different. Now, the sister had been left, left to wait at the clay bank for she wouldn't dare venture beyond. Now they only had mere hours before sunset came and the beautiful haloed blond would be taken from the knight's grasp. Now was a time for passions and carelessness. Now was the time for promises that left the other weak with joy. Now was when they decided and knew, they were in love. The boys never met again for 16 seasons. The Mage moaned in his quarters, trapped with seemingly decades of work ahead and only his dragon to help him. He wished to feel the warmth of chapped lips, to feel calloused fingers on his chest. Yet not even his own brother's claim to the throne assured him of never seeing his knight again. And in the south, the prince was much more concerned with his sister, trying to aid her to the throne, wanting at all costs to forget the longing in his aching heart to his love. The blossoms of the rose plant the Mage had given him still clasped over his heart in longing. When they finally met, it took all of the Mage's power to not simply run at him and show the Prince of the Southern Isles, his Knight's, forbidden love to all of the kingdoms. Still, he clutched his small hands into tight fists, the winds of the summer breeze enveloping him and his Knight I'm a whirlwind of prolonged passion and longing. The Prince couldn't look away from the figure, lanky and golden with his pink cheeks and green eyes, a teal serpent with horns wrapped around his thin shoulders like a scarf. The boys had found each other. And as they ran into the woods, tackling each other in messy frantic kisses as they rolled farther and farther into the moss covered grotto, the two vowed to wed that season or die trying. The two got to scheming seemingly instantaneously, the boys excitedly talking of a land to the east where any man could wed whomever their heart so desired as long as they both loved each other with passion and dignity. They talked, each twirling the other in their arms as they spoke of grandiose and beauty. They were so electrified that the Mage never even told of his descent. They pecked each other's lips as the raced in opposite ways, both with hearts brimming with joy and thudding with fear. Soon though, politics became sour, the king describing the strongest sibling tone the next ruler and the Knight's sibling winning easily and with pride. She had to wed was his only condition and she resented him to his grave and one for that very reason. She went through suitors like a boar eating slop. She despised every man who walked before her until she was so fed up she married the only man who could properly state her title. Only one man called her huntress and only he held her hand. The Prince of course, was given ample time to plan his escape, his Mage already completely prepared on his sister's wedding night. And as she kissed his forehead for what they both hoped was the final time on the same soil, his head spun with all that was to come.

The boy bolted to the cave, the blond's grin lighting up the dusk lit hiding place. He tackled him to the ground, declaring his devotion gladly and fully, laughter and sweet sounds filling the cave.  The two didn't leave each other's arms for hours, watching the sun die away from a shield of water. The two had never felt more at peace then when they knew they could hold each other without fear of even the birds singing their hiding place. They slept in each other's arms, assured of their freedom with each other. When morning came, lazy light coming from above the long away mountains, the boys heard the bugles from miles away. They knew a search would be let out, they knew they would have to run. And as loud horses filled the entire forest, they knew they had to start running. They gripped their small pack and ran through the tunnels, the Knight leading his Mage through the tunnels and leaking rivers in the long system of traveling paths to the East. Yet, unknown to the lover's , not only the King of the South were searching, but the Legion of The Northern Royals had lost their Second Heir and Royal Hand. Thus, both kings were barreling through the forests and valleys trying, praying to find their missing sons. The pair heard loud horses above them, causing them to freeze as dirt fell into the blonde's hair and they knew, the King was near. The Knight pulled his lover back into a dead end with only a single small peeping hole, crouched down with a thin dagger held out by his leg. His Mage shook softly, laying back into the slick stone as a billowing voice filled their haven. The King sent his men throughout the tunnel system, setting camp right in front of their hiding place. The Mage had curled into his Knight's lap, soft tears staining his tunic as he held him tight. It didn't take long for the King to grow anxious of the setting, the boys hiding place unfound and unseen after almost four days of scouring the whole place. Yet, the Northern King demanded they continue searching, angered by his weak will. Still, the King couldn't see his son waiting out in a system of tunnels he hated. The Prince almost laughed out loud at that, knowing he'd adored the cannon like tunnels since he first wondered in them. He'd pulled out the rocks and hidden reserves in the very spot the two now sat in, holding each other close as they passed food and flasks when needed. It lasted only six days. They never came again for the entire hunt. After a night without surveillance, the two wandered out, the Knight smiling as the two danced out of the Northern tyranny. They slipped into the Eastern Nile's border by the end of two days, grabbing reservations and water from the creeks and hidden pockets the Lionheart had already created. The two found the exit and were grinning madly as they stared into the bright sun as they held each other tight. They kissed each other hard and happy, turning each other round and laughing as the stood at the edge of a fall, the forest surrounding them an entire new shade of bright autumn coloration and earthen tones. The Lionheart carried his Mage into the thick burch woods as the twirled and laughed and basked in the sun's glory. They crashed to the earth, bodies shaking in happiness as the world brightened around them. This was their happiness, their freedom, their liberty. As the Mage struggled to his feet, he slipped his hibernating dragon off his shoulders. He'd fallen asleep long before when the two had stayed still much too long. Still, the boys held him close as the snowy night came upon them. The first thing the two did when they made it to town was find someone to wed them. Their clothes were disheveled, their eyes and bodies covered with bruises and scratches, large bags and darkened skin. The boys had one mission left, and that was in a village far away. They found a kind family who took them to where they needed to go. They thanked them and shook as they slipped inside the foreign temple to hope and pray for marriage. Just some simple vows, anything that could let them be together. They almost wept when they were handed the certificate, they were all they wanted to be and they were happy. His Knight carried his Husband to the woods, setting up the camp he'd packed away as his spouse found his own way to make it homey. The two sighed as the stared up at the moon, full and blue tinted as the snow covered every inch of the woods but the land the Mage had marked as their own. Years went by, and a house went up, the temple once asked the husbands to care for a lost child after two years less than a decade within their lands. The two raised them for three years before their pasts closed in. It was only a letter, short and simple, yet it spoke volumes. The two smiled as tears fell from their eyes. They had been given the Northern father's blessing, and for that, they would never be called upon in war or pain ever again. And for the rest of their lives and for as long as the adopted child knew of them, they were happy, and they were always in love.