inevitable entanglements » a.i. + l.h.

epilogue

Ashton loved light.

He loved the way it had sneaked its way into the castles, crawling underneath doors and running past guards. He loved the way it lit up his bedroom in the morning, falling through windows he didn’t know where there before, and casting the most beautiful shadows on the sleeping boy next to him. If Luke wasn’t awake already, that is. He still wasn’t entirely accustomed to living like a royal, but Ashton felt like the sunrise reminded him of worse times, so sometimes he secretly poured one of Michael’s wonder potions in Luke’s dinner to make him sleep through the morning. Luke never noticed, and if he did, he just went along with it.

Ashton wondered if Luke had ever known light before. If he had discovered it for away from this castle, somewhere in a foreign city, nicely presented on the dirty tiles. Perhaps this wasn’t the first time his cheeks held this adorably red colour and his eyes sparkled even more than when Ashton first said he loved him. When Ashton strolls through the many halls of his castle, he sometimes (read: always) admires the new paintings that are scattered throughout the building. It blows his mind that those works of art came from Luke’s trembling hands, each curl and line painted from his memory.

Luke had taken a liking to painting after Michael had accidently left some of his potions there. When he returned, he was met with a boy who was covered from head to toe in homemade paint and the paper he usually used for writing dripping blue.

That was another thing Luke did. As soon as he had mastered the art of reading, patiently digging his way through every book in the castle’s library, (Ashton loved bringing him new ones every time he travelled somewhere, the presents he got to pick a comfort for having to leave his lover behind,) he started writing some himself. What started off as short drabbles on sheets he found here and there soon turned into pages upon pages of words he had spent so much time knitting and gluing together. Sometimes, when his descriptions just didn’t cover the beauty of whatever he had in mind, he painted it for Ashton and Ashton in return would pick a spot in the castle where it was out for every servant to admire. He hung the most beautiful ones in his room, painting his walls with the light he found in Luke’s art instead of a dull grey. One of his favourites was the one he had hung opposite his bed, so it was the first thing he saw when he woke up.

Splattered on the canvas with drops and splashes of various shades of blue, Luke had captured the sea. Ashton still thought the sea resembled his eyes, so whenever Luke was already up and about when Ashton was tucked safely under the covers, he stared at the painting instead, admiring the light that he now found in his lover’s eyes as well.

Sometimes, when the evening fell, all four boys gathered in the bed, secretly cuddling when all the servants were asleep. The flames of the candles would bring the painting to life (along with a fire-y blush on Luke’s cheek because his work got so much attention) and would show Calum the wonders of the sea.

Two years is not a long time, but it was enough to change this castle and every person in it. Even Stephen, the servant who had scolded Luke for stealing bread, now walked around with a smile on his face. He had been the one to, upon finding Ashton staring at the painting, suggest him taking a break and seeing the real thing. A few servants had overheard their conversation and encouraged him to do it, bringing up the idea of taking Michael and Calum with him.

That’s how Ashton found himself running to his room one day, storming past servants and knocking a few out of the way (they just laughed it off, it was all part of the light). He almost broke down the door in his room that no servant was allowed to open.

The door to his mother’s chambers.

After his father’s death, which everyone had been okay with to brush off as an accident (that appeared to be surprisingly easy with Michael being the doctor who had to state the cause of death) he had told the servants to clean up that part of the castle. They had obeyed immediately, thinking the new duke simply missed his mother. And when they heard soft footsteps padding on the wooden floors, they dismissed it as the ghost of the woman the older servants spoke so highly of.