Chapter Text
Ryne closed the book, heaving a sigh at the story’s end. The tragic lover’s reunited, their future a rising sun in the distance. Not for the reader to know, other then the promise of warmth. A satisfying ending. This novel had been compelling from the first page. Its heroes struggles and triumphs, making you desperately keep reading. Even so, for Ryne the books antagonist’s and villains were just as compelling as the heroes. Their own stories tragic, their ends left you with an ache in your chest. They weren’t so different from the main protagonist’s, the small differences Shakespearian in the way their lost chances lead to their ending.
An antagonist simply has a juicer story. Their end’s all the more tragic because they could have just as easily been saved. Spared their fate as the world’s enemy, if only a few good things had been theirs. Sure, they were often still in the wrong, even when their nuances were taken into consideration. He just couldn’t help giving more of his attention to these sorts of character’s. Ryne loved nothing more then imagining versions of the story where they’d get a chance to be happy. Their sin’s intact but their end undecided.
Perhaps he just needed characters like that to exist. In his own writing he couldn’t help putting the morally grey characters in the fore front. Giving them their love stories and sunrises. Ryne ran his had over the cover, thumbing the author’s name. J Crane was the penname, he’d read many of this author’s work. Taking inspiration from it with every read and re-read.
He wished more then anything, to steal one character from Crane specifically. The main villain of the series he’d just finished re-reading. The cruel, calculating, cold hearted Ayao. The despised bastard son, turned king. Whose plots nearly destroyed the protagonist’s happy ending seemingly on a whim. Of course, Ryne had studied and considered this character in depth. He wouldn’t excuse the villain’s crimes, but for such a character his crimes are only half his own. A dagger is a tool without a choice. When that dagger gain’s sentience only then can the blood it sheds be claimed as its own.
Ayao was a character very much like a dagger. Used to commit evil, until he over turned things to his own advantage. Yet the sin’s committed at other’s command were still used to bury him. Many readers had no interest in seeing the difference in such things. A villain was a villain, it didn’t matter if he was also a victim. Even when the body count, was only slightly greater than that of the protagonist. Ryne wondered how Crane thought of his own character’s. Was he over thinking things? Some characters are written simply because their needs to be one. Perhaps his favorite character was meant to be simply perceived. Perhaps, but he was the reader after all. His interpretation was as true as any other’s.
Letting his mind run from one thought to the next, Ryne’s head slowly drifted in his reading chair. His head stretched across the plush chairs back, glasses skewing as he sunk into sleep.
Perhaps because he’d been so passionately obsessing over his analysis of the book villain. Some strange power took interest, wanting to put this book geek’s devotion to the test. Mayhap something agreed with him. A tragic villain deserved his chance at a peaceful sunrise. What ever it was, one moment the sleeping bookworm was alone in his living room. The next another stood there. Their elegant rich princely garment’s glittering in the shadows cast by the lamplight. Cold eyes scanned their surrounding’s. Settling on the sleeping man with a book tightly clutched in his arms.
-
The dull ache of his neck having gone too long in an uncomfortable position woke him up. Groaning Ryne lifted his head hearing bones crack and pop. His lamp had turned of, perhaps he’d shut it off in a half-asleep state at some point. The room was dark, the city street light’s flooding in through the cracks of his curtains. The only points of illumination. Squinting Ryne tried to adjust his glasses only to feel nothing on his face. They must have been taken off too, he’d really done it to himself. Removing his light and source of vision.
A slight shift in shadows startled Ryne. He mistook some shadow for a person sitting at his work desk. Used to the trick his eyes could play he ignored the shadow, and stiffly got up. Without looking at the desk again he went into his room to continue his sleep. The so called ‘shadow’ sitting at his desk watched the half-awake man stumble his way to his room. Before returning to the book, they’d taken from him. Eye’s glowing as they read silently in the dark, brow furrowed.
-
Ryne woke with the sun shining into his room. He stared off into nothing as his brain booted up. He blinked a few times at the blankets knotted around him. … ….
No, they were really tied into knots. He was tied up in his own sheets. He was barley able to sit up, his poor core strength managing after some effort. Something was then thrown at him, unable to defend or dodge he flinched at the heavy impact. He squinted at the object; it was his book. The one he’d been reading the other night. It’s many dog-eared pages and messily post it note annotations half falling out. He’d written a paper on the book before and hadn’t bothered removing the marks of past studies from it.
A dark from stood at the doorway, from this distance Ryne couldn’t make out their face at all. Just a silhouette of dark clothes and hair, arms seemed crossed. Who was in his apartment? Why was he tied up? What had his precious book done to them?
“You better have answer’s or you’ll find this morning is your last.” The silhouette said, in a tone that sounded too pleasant for the treat it presented.
Ryne having just woken up and having had a book thrown at him. His mood had been thoroughly soured for the day before it had barley begun. He couldn’t find it in himself to care much. If some serial killer had broken into his home, not much could be done. He wasn’t interested in stretching out any unpleasantness. Ryne wasn’t going to give some sicko the pleasure of something like begging them for his life.
“If you’re planning on killing me just do it. Dying just mean’s I have nothing else to worry about. It’s almost doing me a favour.”
The body at the doorway shifted, seeming to have been thrown off kilter. If he’d been able to see properly, the flabbergasted expression on the man’s face might have made him laugh.
The audacity of this commoner, he dares talk to me like this. Ayao calmed himself schooling his expression before recalling he’d taken the man’s spectacles the night before. The glass was quite dense, perhaps the fool was blind without them. He pulled out the frames walking up to the bed sheet bound man. Ryne tensed tightly shutting his eye’s at the sudden approach. He braced for some sort of impact.
He felt his glasses slide onto his face. Opening his eyes in confusion. He was met with the stunningly beautiful face of a man that looked like he belonged on a movie set. Long dark hair tied back, rings of gold woven into it. His clothes looked like he’d come from some costume convention. No matter how you looked at it, the guy had stepped out of some fantasy runway. What kind of weirdo had broken into his home?? What beef did they have with his books? Was he single-
The beauty spoke, his voice dipped in less venom this time.
“Let’s try this again then shall we. Why do you have this book and why am I in it? Is this… Prophecy? Can I change it.”
Ryne looked from the book in his lap, then up at the man. Then back to the book. His outfit… it did look quite similar to the clothes of the characters on the novel’s cover. The ambiguous decadence of a noble’s robes. When it came to character’s wealthy enough to have gold braided into their hair... Couldn’t that only be? Besides him who else would want to change the plot?
Ryne’s eyes grew wider as he kept alternating his attention from the man to the book. Growing tired of the neck aching display, Ayao gripped Ryne’s chin holding his gaze on him.
“Have you figured out who I am now?”
The chilling tone made Ryne’s hair stand on end. He’d forgotten to blink; tears began welling at the corners of his eye’s. His throat was still dry from sleep, he’d barley been able to scratch out his first sentence. As he tried to form his second, he desperately licked his lips trying to combat the acidic anxiety bubbling up his throat. When he spoke, his voice was still uselessly low and gravely but maybe it would make him seem less scared than he was.
“Are you… Supposed to be Ayao?”
“Not supposed. I am.”
“Um, that’s not possible. You know that right? He’s just a character in this book. You can’t-”
The grip on his chin tightened, sliding down to his throat. Perhaps playing along was best. Never disagree with a scary person to their face. Ryne tried his best to clear his throat.
“Sorry- Didn’t mean to upset you. Uh, Sir? Prince? Are you king yet? O-or? How do you want me to refer to you?”
The hand eased up a bit, “I’m not king… I didn’t think I’d ever be- Who is this J Crane and how does he know.... All of this.”
Ayao gestured to the book in Ryne’s lap. Ryne wasn’t sure how to break it to the guy. Either he was someone who needed help and thought he was a fantasy book character. Or- Well the second idea couldn’t be possible. Right? He really did look like how he was described in the novel. If a live action was ever made, this guy would be perfect casting.
The man didn’t seem angry, just a bit upset. Maybe even distraught. If he really was Ayao and had read the book. Wouldn’t reading about his own brutal end be hard to accept? His action’s sort of made sense. The real world outside of the apartment would be so strange compared to his. Questioning the only other person nearby was reasonable. Ryne felt his fear ease a bit, Ayao wouldn’t kill someone useful to him. Or wase his time with a non-threat.
“J Crane is who wrote the series. He’s the author.”
“This is a series.” Ayao finally let go of him picking the book back up.
“Yeah, the rest are on a shelf over there.” Ryne pointed to the tall bookshelf in the corner of his room.
Ayao rushed to the shelf finding the spines that matched the text in his hands. He studied the shelf a moment before turning back to Ryne.
“Then what about this!”
He pulled Ryne’s old notebooks from his robes. Ryne felt his ear’s get hot. He kept all his old idea notebooks. That one quite old, had been used to write his essay notes in while he was in school. Had this snoop really discovered such embarrassing thing. Ryne felt himself believing more and more this was actually Ayao. Who else would be sharp enough to dig up so much dirt in one night.
“Those are my notes. I’ve used the uh books for inspiration in my own writing. And stuff.”
“Why did you write so many notes about me?”
Ayao’s eye’s glared sharply at him. Distrust radiating out of the prince.
“I… Ehm. Your kind of my favorite character… So, I wrote an essay on you for one of my free topics. For fun? So that’s why. Yeah.”
Ryne was doing his best to stare at the wall. He wasn’t the type to want to meet his heroes. Suddenly he was forced into meeting his favorite… villain. As he contemplated trying to worm crawl away. A hand poked him in the chest, a glow emitting from Ayao’s hand. Ryne spared a glance at the dazzling face focused on his chest.
“You aren’t lying.” Ayao’s voice sounded utterly surprised.
Ryne wasn’t fast enough to look away before his eye’s met Ayao’s seeking ones. The magic in his hand reflected in his irises as whichever spell he cast ended.
Ayao spoke again his hand falling as he went to set the book on the shelf.
“Where am I. Why do I- According to this I’m…”
He was unable to finish any of his thoughts but Ryne felt his heart ache a bit for him. If he really was who he seemed to be. How could he not be scared right now. Had he really read the entire last volume in a night. How’d he have time to do all that snooping?? Then have spare time to tie him up. Really how impressive.
“I don’t know. Sorry.”
Ryne’s habitual apologetic reflexes made his comment softer than he’d meant it to be. The gentleness seemed to work on Ayao, his tense form easing ever so slightly. As he eyed the bed headed man he’d bound.
“What’s your name.”
Ryne sighed; this guy really was good at turning questions into commands. He introduced himself and after answering question after question. He was finally untied. Unsure of what to do next, Ryne settled for small steps. Making himself and his… guest something to eat. As expected Ayao’s guard was still up watching Ryne cook the whole time. Only eating after Ryne had taken a few bites.
His questions hadn’t really slowed either. Once he understood that the world he was currently in, was mostly without the magic present in his own. His curiosity only grew. How had he gotten here then? Why had he been summoned to Ryne’s domain -apartment dude it’s called an apartment- he clearly wasn’t convinced Ryne wasn’t up to something. After breakfast Ryne endured a full blown investigation, letting Ayao check his meridians for magic. Then a full deep dive into every item within the apartment he deemed odd. Ryne only having enough when the price made a grab for his plunger. Unable to bear the sight of his favorite prince wielding the cleaning tool.
“Please, I know it must be hard. This is all new and everything. But please, please. You’re safe, I’m not here to hurt you. If anything, I’m a fan. I know what your capable of and have no intention of ticking you off.” Ryne gently tried to appease the paranoid prince.
Gentle coaxing seemed to work best on the noble. His sharp stare analysing every work that came out of Ryne’s mouth. He’d yet to lie to him. Putting up with his nearly manic over examination of this foreign world. His cooking had been acceptable. Something in Ayao unbeknownst to him relaxed. A small seed of trust, took root in him for the first time.