Fic: Once Upon A Dream
Jul. 18th, 2011 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starsandseaTitle: Once Upon A Dream
Rating: PG
Pairing: Bruce/Clark
Word Count: 1412
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct. :)
Prince Bruce of Gotham looked out over his guests and sighed. Below him hundreds of people glittered as they twirled in dancing, or sparkled as they talked. With all the family jewels on display tonight you could ransom a very large kingdom. Masks were upon everyone's faces, but when you saw people as often as the members of the court saw each other they were rather redundant.
Or at least, Bruce thought so. He easily knew who everyone in the room was. Just as, he supposed, everyone knew who he was. The Prince. Who needed to marry.
In a way, he was thankful that he had chosen to wear black, with only silver embroidery, with diamonds and sapphires. It meant he was able to hide away in the shadows like this. And, he got to avoid wearing his beautiful, but gaudy and certainly uncomfortable crown.
Not the real crown. No, that would not be given to him until he did marry. Ever since his parents died, it had been repeated over and over again to the then boy-ruler that he needed to marry. And thus he had been introduced to hundreds - nay, thousands - of eligible men and women.
While they were all beautiful and had noble blood, would be a worthy consort for him... Bruce refused to marry for that alone. He needed love. Though he knew it would be difficult to love him - the real him, not the one he let everyone see - but the true him, the one who woke screaming from nightmares of his parent's deaths, the one who be far more content to be alone, to loose himself in his beloved books, rather than be with anyone, no matter how dear.
No one had ever got close enough for him to show them that Bruce, though. And he knew he was running out of time. If he didn't marry soon... He would find himself shortly dead, and the people of Gotham oppressed, no doubt.
Was that worth his personal happiness, his people's very lives?
Bruce sighed. He had many decisions to make, and soon. Taking a deep breath, steeling himself, letting himself become the Prince that everyone knew, he stepped out into the mass of people, silently hoping that tonight he would meet someone who he could love... and love him in return.
*****
He was beautiful. Even behind his mask, Bruce could tell. It wasn't so much his physical beauty - his mask hid enough of his face so that it couldn't be judged - but more the way he carried himself. Painfully shy. Amazed and awed that someone was paying him attention. The blush that his mask couldn't fully hide.
Bruce had spotted him, alone, watching everyone else. Not talking. Just watching. Enough to mark him out as a newcomer - Bruce was surprised that the nobles hadn't descended upon him already for that very fact. But apparently he had the ability to be invisible to most.
He stumbled over his feet again, face flaming red, stammering apologies. Bruce found himself smiling gently, enchanted by this stranger. Maybe it was the fact that his clothes were plain, and he, alone of everyone in the room, was not wearing jewels. Bruce didn't know. And that intrigued him.
The blush on the other's face hadn't faded yet, and Bruce was uncomfortably aware of eyes upon them. No doubt they would be interrupted soon, by people demanding his presence. But he found himself loath to leave the man's presence.
"Would you like to visit the gardens?" He whispered, feeling a strange anticipation in his chest.
The man's eyes widened and the flush that had been covering his face flared up again. He nodded wordlessly, and Bruce felt some odd tightening of his chest, even as his stomach rolled over. He carefully took the stranger's hand and led him from the room.
*****
The stars and crescent moon shone down upon them. The gardens were quiet - the guards were dutifully keeping everyone away, even as they unobtrusively shadowed them, protecting Bruce. Not that he needed it, since he was the best swordsman in Gotham. But they all had their duties.
Bruce looked at his companion out the corner of his eye. He was looking about in wonder, and Bruce found himself smiling again. Another of his true smiles. This stranger was able to make them appear with startling regularity.
He turned to look at Bruce, and the Prince found himself blushing, even as his companion did. "What's your name?" He asked quietly, hoping not to startle him too much.
The man's eyes widened. "Oh! Um... Clark." He smiled shyly and Bruce felt the same strange tightening of his chest from before.
"Clark," he whispered. He looked beautiful in the moonlight, adamant touching his face, caressing his hair that moved softly in the gentle breeze. The glitter upon his mask sparkled and his skin glowed. He looked entirely otherworldly. Bruce felt his breath catch. "Clark," he whispered again.
He was looking at him in wonder. Bruce wondered what he was seeing. He didn't think he was as beautiful as him. But the way he was looking at him.... It made Bruce feel prized. Special. No one had looked at him like that before. He had only been looked at greedily, or calculatingly, to see how much he could benefit the person. Not like this. Like he was just being looked at for who he was. And that person, the being that he was, was all right.
Bruce took another deep breath, steadying himself. "Shall we?" He gestured at the rest of the gardens.
Clark nodded shyly, and they resumed walking.
*****
He seemed to love the flowers, the more brighter, the better. Bruce watched him with a fond smile. Clark's whole face was alight, outshining the moon and stars in his joy.
Bruce sat on a bench, watching Clark wonder from flower to flower, the distant sound of the fountains and Clark's soft footsteps the only noise. He found himself feeling strangely melancholy, yet peaceful at the same time.
A gentle breeze rustled through the gardens and he shivered at the cool air upon his skin.
Clark came back and sat next to him. "Did you enjoy the flowers?" Bruce asked in a murmur.
Clark nodded, smiling softly. It was a beautiful smile and Bruce felt a longing in his chest to be the recipient of it. "Yes. They're lovely."
Bruce nodded. "My Mother loved these gardens," he whispered, not sure why he suddenly admitted that. Not when he hardly ever spoke of his parents to any, yet alone strangers.
"My parents died when I was young. I was lucky to be adopted by giving and loving people."
Bruce nodded, feeling suddenly tired. He took his mask off. "I know, Clark."
Clark looked at him in confusion. "I know because you're not real."
Clark continued looking at him in confusion. Bruce stood up, the mask falling to his feet. He had got his wish. He had found someone he could be himself around. The irony was amazing.
"What do you mean? Of course I'm real." Clark's voice was hurt, as were his eyes. His own mask had disappeared now, leaving his stunning blue eyes visible.
Bruce looked away from him. "No. You're not really. None of this is. I'm sorry." He looked back at Clark, then gently cupped his face and kissed his forehead as the world faded away...
"B? B, can you hear me?"
Batman opened his eyes. He was in his cave, bats whirling overhead. The noise was comforting, as was the presence of the people by his side. Alfred. Dick. Tim. Cass. In the distance, Barbara. And, of course, Clark.
"Welcome back, sir." Alfred looked as unruffled as always, only his eyes betrayed his relief. Bruce nodded at him.
"You gave us quite a scare." A grin from Dick. Cass smiled softly, almost sadly.
Clark just looked at him.
"Some new weird pollen from Ivy. I'm looking into it now," Tim reported, answering his unspoken question.
Bruce nodded again, and his family started to move away. After fussing over him for a few moments, Alfred did the same. Leaving him with Clark.
"I'm glad you're back, B," was all he said.
Bruce nodded once more.
"Well, I'd better be off, then." Clark threw him another smile, before moving away, calling out farewells to everyone else.
Bruce closed his eyes and tried not to remember his dream.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Bruce/Clark
Word Count: 1412
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct. :)
Prince Bruce of Gotham looked out over his guests and sighed. Below him hundreds of people glittered as they twirled in dancing, or sparkled as they talked. With all the family jewels on display tonight you could ransom a very large kingdom. Masks were upon everyone's faces, but when you saw people as often as the members of the court saw each other they were rather redundant.
Or at least, Bruce thought so. He easily knew who everyone in the room was. Just as, he supposed, everyone knew who he was. The Prince. Who needed to marry.
In a way, he was thankful that he had chosen to wear black, with only silver embroidery, with diamonds and sapphires. It meant he was able to hide away in the shadows like this. And, he got to avoid wearing his beautiful, but gaudy and certainly uncomfortable crown.
Not the real crown. No, that would not be given to him until he did marry. Ever since his parents died, it had been repeated over and over again to the then boy-ruler that he needed to marry. And thus he had been introduced to hundreds - nay, thousands - of eligible men and women.
While they were all beautiful and had noble blood, would be a worthy consort for him... Bruce refused to marry for that alone. He needed love. Though he knew it would be difficult to love him - the real him, not the one he let everyone see - but the true him, the one who woke screaming from nightmares of his parent's deaths, the one who be far more content to be alone, to loose himself in his beloved books, rather than be with anyone, no matter how dear.
No one had ever got close enough for him to show them that Bruce, though. And he knew he was running out of time. If he didn't marry soon... He would find himself shortly dead, and the people of Gotham oppressed, no doubt.
Was that worth his personal happiness, his people's very lives?
Bruce sighed. He had many decisions to make, and soon. Taking a deep breath, steeling himself, letting himself become the Prince that everyone knew, he stepped out into the mass of people, silently hoping that tonight he would meet someone who he could love... and love him in return.
*****
He was beautiful. Even behind his mask, Bruce could tell. It wasn't so much his physical beauty - his mask hid enough of his face so that it couldn't be judged - but more the way he carried himself. Painfully shy. Amazed and awed that someone was paying him attention. The blush that his mask couldn't fully hide.
Bruce had spotted him, alone, watching everyone else. Not talking. Just watching. Enough to mark him out as a newcomer - Bruce was surprised that the nobles hadn't descended upon him already for that very fact. But apparently he had the ability to be invisible to most.
He stumbled over his feet again, face flaming red, stammering apologies. Bruce found himself smiling gently, enchanted by this stranger. Maybe it was the fact that his clothes were plain, and he, alone of everyone in the room, was not wearing jewels. Bruce didn't know. And that intrigued him.
The blush on the other's face hadn't faded yet, and Bruce was uncomfortably aware of eyes upon them. No doubt they would be interrupted soon, by people demanding his presence. But he found himself loath to leave the man's presence.
"Would you like to visit the gardens?" He whispered, feeling a strange anticipation in his chest.
The man's eyes widened and the flush that had been covering his face flared up again. He nodded wordlessly, and Bruce felt some odd tightening of his chest, even as his stomach rolled over. He carefully took the stranger's hand and led him from the room.
*****
The stars and crescent moon shone down upon them. The gardens were quiet - the guards were dutifully keeping everyone away, even as they unobtrusively shadowed them, protecting Bruce. Not that he needed it, since he was the best swordsman in Gotham. But they all had their duties.
Bruce looked at his companion out the corner of his eye. He was looking about in wonder, and Bruce found himself smiling again. Another of his true smiles. This stranger was able to make them appear with startling regularity.
He turned to look at Bruce, and the Prince found himself blushing, even as his companion did. "What's your name?" He asked quietly, hoping not to startle him too much.
The man's eyes widened. "Oh! Um... Clark." He smiled shyly and Bruce felt the same strange tightening of his chest from before.
"Clark," he whispered. He looked beautiful in the moonlight, adamant touching his face, caressing his hair that moved softly in the gentle breeze. The glitter upon his mask sparkled and his skin glowed. He looked entirely otherworldly. Bruce felt his breath catch. "Clark," he whispered again.
He was looking at him in wonder. Bruce wondered what he was seeing. He didn't think he was as beautiful as him. But the way he was looking at him.... It made Bruce feel prized. Special. No one had looked at him like that before. He had only been looked at greedily, or calculatingly, to see how much he could benefit the person. Not like this. Like he was just being looked at for who he was. And that person, the being that he was, was all right.
Bruce took another deep breath, steadying himself. "Shall we?" He gestured at the rest of the gardens.
Clark nodded shyly, and they resumed walking.
*****
He seemed to love the flowers, the more brighter, the better. Bruce watched him with a fond smile. Clark's whole face was alight, outshining the moon and stars in his joy.
Bruce sat on a bench, watching Clark wonder from flower to flower, the distant sound of the fountains and Clark's soft footsteps the only noise. He found himself feeling strangely melancholy, yet peaceful at the same time.
A gentle breeze rustled through the gardens and he shivered at the cool air upon his skin.
Clark came back and sat next to him. "Did you enjoy the flowers?" Bruce asked in a murmur.
Clark nodded, smiling softly. It was a beautiful smile and Bruce felt a longing in his chest to be the recipient of it. "Yes. They're lovely."
Bruce nodded. "My Mother loved these gardens," he whispered, not sure why he suddenly admitted that. Not when he hardly ever spoke of his parents to any, yet alone strangers.
"My parents died when I was young. I was lucky to be adopted by giving and loving people."
Bruce nodded, feeling suddenly tired. He took his mask off. "I know, Clark."
Clark looked at him in confusion. "I know because you're not real."
Clark continued looking at him in confusion. Bruce stood up, the mask falling to his feet. He had got his wish. He had found someone he could be himself around. The irony was amazing.
"What do you mean? Of course I'm real." Clark's voice was hurt, as were his eyes. His own mask had disappeared now, leaving his stunning blue eyes visible.
Bruce looked away from him. "No. You're not really. None of this is. I'm sorry." He looked back at Clark, then gently cupped his face and kissed his forehead as the world faded away...
"B? B, can you hear me?"
Batman opened his eyes. He was in his cave, bats whirling overhead. The noise was comforting, as was the presence of the people by his side. Alfred. Dick. Tim. Cass. In the distance, Barbara. And, of course, Clark.
"Welcome back, sir." Alfred looked as unruffled as always, only his eyes betrayed his relief. Bruce nodded at him.
"You gave us quite a scare." A grin from Dick. Cass smiled softly, almost sadly.
Clark just looked at him.
"Some new weird pollen from Ivy. I'm looking into it now," Tim reported, answering his unspoken question.
Bruce nodded again, and his family started to move away. After fussing over him for a few moments, Alfred did the same. Leaving him with Clark.
"I'm glad you're back, B," was all he said.
Bruce nodded once more.
"Well, I'd better be off, then." Clark threw him another smile, before moving away, calling out farewells to everyone else.
Bruce closed his eyes and tried not to remember his dream.
