Chapter Text
Three months later...
Thousands of visitors descended upon Neuschwanstein Castle from all around the world, from regular German citizens to the international elite. Actors and politicians, directors and supermodels, doctors and lawyers, businessmen and regular everyday men and women and children came to the castle this sunny March day, and it was up to David as the castle maître d' to ensure things ran smoothly.
He walked up and down the halls, moving from south wing to north wing, going through his checklist of things to do. Around him, tour guides led large groups to different areas, some discussing the architecture of the castle, some telling the history of the old Hetfield family, some directing people towards the ticket booths for the garden sightseeing and tour.
There were lines upon lines waiting to come in. So far, the guest list counted about four hundred people had passed into the castle, and it was not even midday. Because of how beautiful the weather was and the west wing's flowers in bloom, there was a good chance a thousand or more would arrive. And that didn't even account for some of the A-list VIPs coming in and out today of the restaurant. Thankfully, he had help.
David glanced at his watch and he grimaced. "Shit. I'm late."
His walk turned into a light jog as he came into the south wing, passing by the old dining hall, where another tour was taking place, right on schedule. Kirk is going to have a fit, I just know it...
"David!"
He came to a halt as he heard his name called. And as he turned around, following the voice, he groaned in dismay, slapping his hand against his forehead.
"Chris! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the restaurant!"
"I know, I know!" The majordomo rushed up to him. "I had to take care a problem in the west wing. Tour guide mess again."
"Still? Great. We'll need to meet with all the guides tonight once the doors close."
"Already schedule it."
David smiled, slapping Chris's shoulder. "You're a lifesafer. Now come on. I don't want to hear Kirk's bitch-fits again."
**
Inside the castle's five-star restaurant, Rose de l'Enchanteresse, co-owners Kirk and Rob waited near the entrance, hidden behind a pillar so they did not draw attention to themselves. Light classical music played, mixing with the sounds of cutlery on china and conversations.
Kirk huffed, glaring at the watch on his wrist. "They're late."
Rob chuckled. "Be patient, love. They do everything in the castle."
"Cliff wouldn't be late. Why did he have to give it up?"
"You know he had to when James left with Lars."
"So what? He could still be owner of the castle as well as maître d'!"
“Right.” Rob rolled his eyes. “And end up in an early grave? No thank you."
"Well, the Enchantress could come back, resurrect another..."
"She probably used up all of her energy when she made the world remember the castle and the Hetfields existed in the first place."
"So? She's a supreme being! She could do it again."
"Let's not chance that." Rob twined his hand with Kirk's. "Besides, Cliff has much bigger things to take care of."
They glanced back into their co-owned restaurant, where all the tables were filled with A-list celebrities, politicians and the international elite. Waiters—some of them servants who had been part of the castle for the last century, some of them from this century—all worked hard with smiles on their faces, delivering food at top speed with grace and poise.
In the far corner, Cliff sat at the VIP table in a sharp business suit, talking with world-reknown art curators, art historians and art enthusiasts over warm sake and freshly-cooked sushi. He seemed to be arguing something, passionately discussing his side, while everyone at the table listened in intently. Torben sat beside him with his girlfriend Molly, nodding to his every word.
Kirk smiled. "Yeah, that's true. He is pretty busy ensuring the castle's art and architecture is preserved."
"As well as marketing Torben's artwork to collectors and galleries."
"And doing all the managerial things James left him with." Kirk shook his head. "That boy. Leaving all that on Cliff's shoulders."
"Ah, leave him be. I'm glad he got out of here. He's only twenty-two."
"A hundred and twenty-two."
Rob shrugged. "Technicalities." He squeezed Kirk's hand. "Besides, I think Cliff likes it. And it's not like he's alone."
"Heh. True."
They turned to the other side of the room, where Jason stood in his own suit, shaking hands with a man in another suit while holding a glass of champagne. When the man left him, Jason walked over to the two of them standing near the entrance, shaking his head.
"I swear, I never knew an ambassador of France could be so funny." He frowned as he looked around. "Where's David and Chris?"
"Late." Kirk crossed his arms. "You should've been maître d'. Or at least stayed majordomo."
Jason chuckled, shaking his head no. "And then who would've helped Cliff with all the slack? James made the right decision giving our old positions to David and Chris."
"Hm." Kirk sighed, glancing at his watch again. "It still boggles my mind he gave those guys a second chance."
"Dave brainwashed people too well, love," Rob said. "They're showing they've changed their ways."
"I guess..."
Jason smiled around the rim of his flute glass. "Well, I have no complaints, though I always encourage skepticism." He drained his flute glass, passing it off to a nearby waiter. "But they have been working hard, all three of them. I have no doubt they're reformed. Or, at least, they're on the path to being reformed."
Rob nodded. "I agree. I mean, I'm glad he gave them second chances. David's done a fine job with Chris by his side, and I got one hell of a cook out of Shawn."
Kirk crossed his arms. "That's true." He sighed. "I guess I don't want any sudden surprises. I want things to stay okay."
"Ah, stop worrying." Jason clasped Kirk's shoulder and then Rob's. "If shit happens, then it happens. We'll deal with whatever comes. I mean, nothing stays perfect forever, right? So forget the maybe's and all that. Let's just enjoy what we have now."
Kirk smiled. "You're right." He chuckled, elbowing Jason's side. "And you totally prepared that speech."
Jason grinned back. His response was cut short as the three of them heard the sound of running feet against the carpet. They looked up and saw Chris and David make a beeline right for the entrance of the restaurant, sweat matting their hair to their red faces, panting hard for breath. They made a complete stop in front of them, bowing over, hands on their knees.
"Late again, Ellefson." Kirk turned to Chris. "You too, Broderick."
Chris lifted his head, glaring at Kirk. "Hey... at least... we made it."
"And now you've got a job to do." He pointed inside, all the way to the back, where the double doors led to the restaurant kitchens. "Get going."
Chris and David both groaned as one. They stumbled to the back.
Rob kissed Kirk's cheek. "I'll go help them out."
Kirk nodded, letting Rob's hand go. Jason flanked his side, the two of them watching their friends slip away to the kitchens without Cliff noticing their presence. "You think Cliff has any idea what's about to happen?" he asked.
"Not a chance. He would expect a surprise birthday party after castle hours. Not during."
Inside the kitchens, Rob directed Chris and David to where Shawn was in his white chef outfit, putting the finishing touches to Cliff's seven-tier birthday cake, made of red velvet, strawberries and cream cheese frosting. Together all four of them carefully pushed the tray towards the back entrance of the kitchen doors, ready to take it out into the restaurant.
Rob poked his head out and gave Kirk and Jason a thumbs-up sign.
Jason nodded, giving a thumbs-up in return. "Alright, they're ready."
Kirk pointed to the main stage inside, where a live string quartet performed classical music. "I'll go there, you get the lights?"
"You got it."
Cliff was knee-deep in a conversation about the improvement of art conservation in Western Europe, when the lights dimmed in the restaurant, and all conversations paused for a moment. Soon everyone audibly wondered what was going on, if the power was out, and Cliff rose to his feet, ready to find Jason and have them take care of the situation.
He frowned as he saw a spotlight on Kirk taking to the stage, grabbing a mic.
"I really, really apologize for the disruption ladies and gentlemen, but we have a bit of a problem, you see."
Cliff thought the worst as Kirk turned to him with a grave look on his face.
"I regret to announce..."
And then Kirk broke into a wide grin, pointing at Cliff.
"That our castle owner is now a year older! Stand up old man, take a bow!"
The whole room erupted in laughter and cheers, all the tension and anxiety in the room quickly leaving as soon as it arrived. Everyone in the room had seen the signs in, out and around the castle that today was the owner's thirty-first birthday. They all clapped, turning to Cliff in the corner.
Cliff chuckled underneath the spotlight now on him. He rolled his eyes, sighing in relief, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Dammit Kirk!"
"Face it, man, you're old. You can't hide from it anymore. As a matter of fact..." Kirk gestured to the doors. "We even commemorated the event!"
Cliff laughed. "Oh no..."
Shawn and David held the doors while Rob and Chris pushed the massive cake out into the room. The crowd clapped, soft sounds of awe rising as they gazed at how large the cake was. The four of them pushed it over to Cliff's table, where Shawn took out a single candle and put it on one of the tiers.
"We gave you one to blow out," Kirk said over the mic. "Easier on your old lungs."
Cliff laughed, running a hand through his hair, completely dumbfounded and flabbergasted that his friends did this for him, in front of dignitaries, movie stars, models and other elitists.
David took out a pack of matches and lit the candle up.
"Come on everyone, sing along!" Kirk shouted. "Happy birthday to you..."
The entire crowd in the restaurant sang Happy Birthday in unison to Cliff. He glanced out at everyone in attendance, specifically meeting the eye of his friends. Torben and Molly, Shawn, David and Chris, Kirk and Rob -- his best friends to the end, and he found in the crowd, standing far away near the doors, Jason, watching him with a smile.
But as he blew out the candle and the whole crowd cheered, Jason's smile waned slightly, and he turned away, heading out of the restaurant.
**
The cake was served to everyone in the restaurant. Because Rob made an extra cake, just in case the first cake was ruined, he had his workers send slices to castle staff members throughout the castle. He also had some slices serves at the many cafes installed in each wing for the general public, even offering complimentary caffeinated drinks in honor of Cliff's birthday.
Cliff ended up with such a vast amount of presents that he decided to open them all in the privacy of his office much later in the day, once he had a few minutes to spare. He found the time, a late thirty minute lunch break, between meetings. But when he entered his office, he found a note on top, addressed to him.
West Wing, the gazeebo. Come alone.
He recognize the handwriting easy.
"Jason...?"
**
Cliff utilized the West Wing side entrance only staff members had access to. He easily slipped out of the castle without alerting anyone where he was going. He was lucky this part of the West Wing gardens wasn't available to the public yet. The gardeners still had to redesign as well as restore a good chunk of the area.
Standing in the gazeebo, back turned to the entrance, was Jason. He didn't wear his suit, only casual clothing: regular jeans, a t-shirt and a leather jacket. His hands were in the jacket's pockets, head tilted up, staring at the castle wall beside them, covered in vegetation.
Cliff smiled coming up the steps. "So what is it that you..."
He trailed off as he saw a large suitcase by Jason's side.
Jason turned around.
Their eyes met.
Cliff stood in front of him, mouth agape, eyes wide in shock, while Jason faced him emotionless.
"Has to be done." Jason came forward, his lips curling up into a small smile, closing the gap between him and Cliff. "I've been stalling it for some time."
He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Why now?"
Jason shrugged. "Just felt like it."
"But you're needed here."
"It's not forever. I mean..." Jason looked away. "I don't know if it is or not. If I will come back."
"And you haven't told the others."
He shook his head no. "They all have letters waiting for them in their rooms."
"They won't be happy."
"I know they'll miss me." Jason looked up, over Cliff's shoulder, to survey at the gardens surrounding the gazeebo. "And there's a part of me that'll miss this too. This has been my home for a whole century, and while some of our servants left when the spell broke, some of us didn't." He turned around to glare at the large castle wall that engulfed them as well. "But I need to leave now. I need to go."
"Like James and Lars did."
Jason turned around, facing Cliff.
Cliff smiled, no trace of anger or resentment on his face. "I know exactly what you are searching for, Jason, and I know that you won't find it here. You stayed here out of loyalty and need when James and Lars left, and for that I am grateful. We're all grateful. Your hard work did not go unnoticed. Everyone adores you. A lot of the servants look up to you, especially Chris and David. And to me, Kirk and Rob, you are our brother. Nothing will ever change that. But it isn't enough to make you stay." He sadly smiled. "Or enough to make you truly happy."
Jason's eyes glossed over. He nodded yes. "I wish it was."
"Don't be guilty. I don't blame you nor hate you. None of us will. We'll be sad that you are gone, but as long as you are out there making yourself happy, we support you." He came forward, offering his hand to Jason. "I'm not going to accept a resignation from you, nor am I allowing anyone to take your place. Instead, I'm leaving it open, for you, should you decide to come back." His eyes brimmed with tears. "No matter where you go, Jason... you will always have a home here."
Jason trembled in place, slowly taking his hand out to shake Cliff's.
They stared at one another, eyes wet, hands clasped.
And then Jason yanked Cliff to him, pulling him into a tight hug. Cliff reciprocated, holding Jason with the same strength.
They held the embrace for a long time. The reluctance between the two was evident in Jason’s hands and Cliff’s arms. But Jason eventually pulled away, biting on his lips, his eyes red-rimmed.
Cliff clasped a hand on Jason's shoulder, squeezing it. He managed to smile, even as he let Jason's shoulder go and stepped to the side so Jason could easily walk out of the gazeebo.
Jason bent down, picking up his lone suitcase. He walked to the edge of the stairs—and settled it down again. "Oh shit. I almost forgot."
Cliff's eyebrows knitted together as Jason reached into his jacket and took out something.
Jason opened his palm between them. Inside were two halves of a full ring.
"This was the ring James gave me to leave the castle. When I used it to save Lars, it broke in half, and I found them in the West Wing shortly after the transformation. I was going to through them away but I held onto them... I don't even know why. Maybe as a memento for the past, or something that reminded me of James. Who knows." Jason lifted his eyes to look into Cliff's. "But I want you to take the other half. As a birthday present." He smiled. "A really cheap birthday present."
Cliff gave a watery chuckle. He took one half of the ring between his fingers, staring at it briefly before he glanced back up at Jason. "I'll keep it near me always, whether or not you come back."
Jason nodded. "Alright."
Cliff's fingers curled around the ring piece, the metal pressing against his palm.
Jason placed his back into his jacket's pocket.
They stared at one another again in silence, taking in their last looks of each other. Both of them smiled, despite the thick tears in their eyes.
Jason broke the moment again by looking away. He bent down to pick up his suitcase again by its handle. "I better get going. My taxi's waiting outside." He walked down the steps.
Cliff flanked his side. "At the front gate?"
"West Wing parking lot area. You know, where the drop off is?"
"Ah, yes. That's the far one. Not many like to park there."
"Exactly. None of the guys should see me since I'm going out the staff side entrance."
"Mm, probably not, but if they ask questions, I'll handle it." He frowned at Jason's briefcase for a moment. "You sure you have everything?"
"Yes. Everything I need."
"Money, tickets?"
"Have the train tickets in my pocket."
"No flying?"
"God no. One mechanical monstrosity at a time." Jason chuckled. "I'll work my way up to those ungodly contraptions... someday."
They shared a laugh together as they made their way to the staff side entrance of the west wing gardens. Again they fell into a comfortable silence, walking to the gate. There Cliff stood beside the door, while Jason stood in front of it.
"Be safe, Jason."
Jason smiled at him and then turned to the front of the door. "I will." He took a big deep breath—here we go—and opened the side gate, stepping out into the world.
Cliff's eyes shined, watching Jason leave the castle walls. Something broke inside as Jason walked away, heading for the West Wing parking lot. But along with the hurt came this deep satisfaction, this sense of peace, knowing Jason was making the right decision, and that Jason was finally going to be okay.
He slipped the hand holding the ring piece into a pocket of his suit pants, fumbling with it between his fingers. Jason grew smaller and smaller in the distance, walking towards a lone taxi cab waiting in the drop off zone of the parking lot.
Good luck, my friend.
**
Late at night, on the shores of Northern France, James and Lars stood together side by side, leaning on the railing that separated them from the sea some meters below. The ocean crashed and churned against the rocks of the expansive Brittany coastline, splashing water and cool air upwards. But out in the distance, the water was calm, the full moon reflecting its tranquil surface. No one was around for miles. They could enjoy this moment alone without a single disturbance, bundled up in their leather jackets and scarves.
With all the money accrued from the castle, and the revenue from touring, all of James’s servants and James himself were set for life. He indulged in his freedom with Lars, seeing the world, before they would settle down somewhere. Lars would go to university, that was certain. What James would do, he didn’t know, nor did it matter. He would figure it out eventually.
The past three months, they spent city hopping, riding trains from place to place. They started in Germany, James providing the historical anecdotes and translations, and later moved northward to Denmark, where Lars led James through his homeland, taking him to the places he knew and the ones he always wanted to go to. And when they were done, spending their last day paying tribute to Lars's mother, they went down the coastline, through the Netherlands and Belgium, to where they were now in the country Lars always wanted to see.
Lars sighed, resting his head on James's shoulder. His eyelids drooped, the light ocean churns lulling him into a peaceful state, where he could only smell James and the ocean's breeze. They had spent yet another whole day discovering another part of the Brittany coastline, and the fatigue finally settled.
James's arm slipped around his waist. "Mein schatz?"
"Hm?"
"It's late. We should go back."
"Mm." He yawned, rubbing his cheek into James's shoulder. "A little longer."
"You could get a cold."
"That's okay. You'll take care of me."
James's chuckle vibrated against his cheek. "Spoiled brat."
"So says the prince."
"Former prince."
"Still a prince." Lars wrapped his arm around James's waist while he lifted his head up and gazed into blue eyes. He smiled. "My prince."
James briefly smiled, before he set his lips into a thin line, a stern look on his face. "Lars?"
Lars's smile waned, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Yes James?"
"Are you ever afraid?"
"Of what?"
James sighed, his eyes downcast. "That this could be taken away from you, at any moment?"
Lars turned away from the railing, standing fully in front of James, little to no gap between their torsos. Blonde hair fell into James's eyes, cascaded around his face, as if shielding James away from the world.
"Sometimes." Lars gently rose a hand to James's face, pushing the blonde curls back, hooking them behind his ear. "But you can't live in fear. Things happen. Good and bad." He ran his fingertips down James's cheek to his chin. "We just have to make due with the bad and enjoy the good while it's here." He sadly smiled, tilting James's head up to look him in the eye. "You're afraid of being mortal now, aren't you?"
James stared into Lars's eyes for a moment, saying nothing, and then sighed, his attention drifting elsewhere. He lifted his chin away from Lars's fingers, his neck bent, hair around his face, standing to his full height.
“I've thought about it for some time now, since we left the castle. Being outside, here in your world, there's so many dangers out here. So many risks we're taking. The train could derail, or I could say the wrong thing, or you could cross the street too early—”
"James—"
He lifted his head to look at Lars directly. "Let me finish."
Lars stopped on his next word. He looked into James's eyes and then nodded, resting his hand on James's chest.
James closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. And when he exhaled, he let out everything.
"I thought about all the what-ifs. All the bad scenarios. And I realized today, I'm repeating the same mistakes. I'm letting fear rule my life again, and I don't want it to. I don't want to turn into that beast. I'm tired of being afraid. I spent a hundred years behind walls, being afraid, and I don't want to do it again. I want to see the world. I want to do all the things you've told me, like fly in a plane or ride a bike or swim into the sea. I want everything. As long as I am able to spend every last moment with you, I don't care what happens. I'm not afraid. And I'll never be afraid again. So no, I don't care that I'm mortal again. I don't want to live forever. I've had that." He cupped Lars's cheek in one hand, tightening his hold around Lars's waist with the other arm. "Now... I just want to live." James smiled. "With you."
Lars's eyes shined in the moonlight. He returned the embrace, his arms enfolding James, bringing James to him, closing what little gap there was between them until their chests touched and their lips brushed.
"I love you, James."
James leaned in, their noses rubbing, forehead to forehead, warm breath over warm breath.
"And I love you Lars."
Their eyes fluttered shut.
"Forever."
They kissed as the stars fell one after the other—small, fleeting streaks of white decorating the night sky.
And they lived happily-ever-after.