Heart Of Ice
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
6,551
Reviews:
27
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
6,551
Reviews:
27
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter Three: In Avery's Room
Title: Heart Of Ice: Chapter Three: In Avery’s Room
Author: Allison Wonderland
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, NC-17 overall.
Summary: Avery goes to his room and his father comes to talk to him.
Warning(s): Implied homosexuality, language.
Disclaimer: Technically, this is a rewrite of the movie Labyrinth. However, how much it resembles the movie remains to be seen. I do not own/am not associated with Labyrinth or anything related to it. However, all of the characters and some of the ideas in this story are mine.
Note(s): None this chapter.
~*~
Sometimes it seemed to Avery that his bedroom was the only safe place for him in the entire world. It was certainly the only safe place for him in the house and the only room that had remained untouched since before the divorce. The wallpaper was the same baby blue and sea green stripes it had been since Avery was about twelve and his mother had helped him redecorate his old nursery into a bedroom befitting a teenage boy rather than a child but very little actual wall paper was visible around the multitude of posters and prints tacked up on the walls. The carpet matched the green stripes in the wallpaper. On the wall opposite the door was a window that looked out on the street in front of the house. To the left of the window was a white wooden twin size four-poster canopy bed. The canopy itself was baby blue as was the comforter and the dust ruffle around the bottom of the bed. The sheets, what little bit of them that was visible anyway, were a pale green color even lighter than the sea green stripes in the wallpaper. On the bed were several thick, fluffy pillows of varying sizes and colors. The bed was pushed up against the wall on one side but on the other side was a matching white nightstand on which sat a blue glitter lamp with a silver base, a black digital alarm clock, and a battered, dog eared copy of the children’s book Where The Wild Things Are. In the corner to the right of the bed were two large bookshelves completely filled with books – most of them about adventures in fantasy lands like the complete Wizard Of Oz series, several Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter novels, The Farthest Away Mountain by Lynne Reid Banks, and the complete set of Pet Shop Of Horrors mangas. On top of both bookshelves was an odd assortment of stuffed animals. Several feet away from the bookcases was his closet door and in the next corner an L-shaped computer desk with a laptop, printer, CD player, and piles of computer games and CDs. The top shelf, like the bookshelves, was filled with an assortment of stuffed animals. Next to the door was a make up table with a mirror; something that woman had tried to make Avery get rid of because it ‘just isn’t suitable for a boy your age to be so obsessed with his appearance, not to mention wear makeup.’ But Avery had won because for once his father had actually stood up for him, saying that it was his mother’s and if Avery wanted to keep it, let him because it was not worth the fight to get rid of it. It too, except for the mirror, was piled high with stuffed animals and books as well as an assortment of eyeliner pencils and lip-glosses. In the middle of the floor – what small part that was not covered with furniture or stuffed animals – laid a rug in a colorful under water print.
The closet door was a shrine of sorts to Avery’s mother. It was covered in posters and photographs and newspaper and magazine clippings that displayed the actress in a variety of different costumes for playing a multitude of different parts in different Broadway plays. Avery’s favorite was the Wicked poster right in the middle. It was from the past summer, which he had spent with his mother and her boyfriend in New York. Avery had been lucky enough to see the play on opening night and attend the cast party afterward. It had only affirmed his desire to be an actor, something his father and that woman abhorred.
And curled up on the rug was Avery. He was still soaked, so wet the warm air inside the house had not even started to dry him yet, but he had stopped crying just moments ago. His eyes were red and watery, his cheeks flushed, and he still whimpered or shook periodically. His nose ran and he sniffled but that could have been because of the cold. He rubbed his face with the back of his left hand and sat up. Sniffling again he stood up from the now decidedly damp rug and sat down on the stool before the mirror among an assortment of stuffed toys. Avery picked up a small white chest – much like a jewelry chest or one a pirate might keep its treasure in – and opened it. Inside it was lined with bright blue silk and a small male figure dressed in blue began to spin around and around as music played. It had been a gift from his mother and her boyfriend on his seventeenth birthday.
The memory was the happiest one he had since the divorce. Avery had arrived in the city the day before and it just happened that his birthday and opening night for the play his mother and her boyfriend – credited on the playbill as Christianna McQueen and Jackson Brandt – were to star in as the fairy queen and king fell on the same date. Avery had been staying in his own suite at the Hilton hotel because Christianna and Jackson were in the process of moving into a new town house and it was a mess from the moving in. They had met him at the hotel in a limousine and had taken him to an exclusive by reservation only Italian restaurant for dinner then shopping at Macy’s where they had bought him a special outfit to wear that night and replenished his wardrobe with so many designer clothes he had had to have another suitcase to carry it all home in. Then there was the play that had been all the promoters had said it would be and more. After the play was the opening night cast and crew party which Avery had been allowed to attend because he had the distinct honor of being the child of the famous Christianna McQueen. Somehow the cast and crew party had turned into Avery’s birthday party when someone had brought out a birthday cake and ice cream. His mother had given him her gift then, and so had everyone else at the party, but his favorite was the little music box from his mother and her boyfriend. Then that night, much later than his father and The Bitch thought was appropriate for a bedtime, the same limousine had taken him back to the hotel where he had had a two hour long bubble bath then gotten into bed beneath a soft down comforter with his penguin and immediately fallen asleep. The next morning there had been a photo of him in the paper and mentions of Christianna McQueen’s son on the infamous Page Six.
Avery wanted to be an actor like his mother and Jackson only he wanted to be in movies or maybe even have his own dramatic television show instead of being onstage in Broadway musicals. He could memorize poetry and song lyrics but he could never remember lines from plays – at least not the ones he was trying to memorize – or books. He was having such trouble memorizing that one little speech from the Labyrinth book, the one little but earth shattering speech that the heroine said to the Goblin King at the end of the story. It was only a game he was playing, imagining himself facing a great adversary to rescue a child he had wished away in the first place. It was not as if it mattered that he could not memorize it. Well, not to anyone but Avery himself anyway. It should have been a piece of cake but then nothing was ever really fair in Avery’s life. Nothing that mattered to him anyway. How was he ever going to get his own television show if he could not memorize a few little lines from an old book?
Maybe if he prepared for his performance like an actor in one of the dramatic television shows he wanted to be in one day or like his mother before she went onstage he could finally memorize it. There was something his mother had told him once…what was it? Something about how makeup and costumes and wigs and things were more for the actor’s benefit than for the audience’s because they helped the actor get into character. Maybe she was right. Avery took a tube of dark red lipstick out of one of the makeup drawers. It was not quite the color he imagined the girl from Labyrinth wearing; she was such a princess she probably only wore pink but it was the color that looked best on Avery with his dark hair and tan skin tone. Even an actor had to make some compromises to look good and play a part right too. He applied the lipstick and blew a kiss at the mirror. That made him feel a little better and he smiled. The tiniest bit of eyeliner completed his preparations and he looked in the mirror. No, there was still something else. The girl in the book was some sort of princess… There was a teddy bear with a large tinfoil crown sitting to one side of the makeup table. He took the crown off and put it on his own head. That was better. “Give me the child,” he began again, threatening his reflection in the mirror with the eyeliner pencil.
Oh, that was good.
“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city-“ here he gestured to the window. Surely there was something out there that could be used as a castle “-to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom is as-“
Someone knocked on the door and Avery jumped. “Avery,” his father’s voice called sternly from outside the door. “Can I talk to you?”
Just like that Avery’s good mood was gone. He rubbed the lipstick off with a tissue. The eyeliner his father did not like but would not object to but he had never tried the lipstick. The tinfoil crown was hurriedly placed back on the teddy bear. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he shouted angrily. Ever since the day his father had walked in to find Avery pleasuring himself on his bed the man would not walk in unless invited. “You’d better hurry or you’re going to be late,” he muttered mockingly, just loudly enough for his father to hear from outside his door.
His father seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing. “We’ve fed Jilly and put her to bed,” the man said. “We do have to leave now but we’ll be back around midnight.” Then there were the sounds of footsteps heading away from the door, as if he considered his parenting duty over and all that could be expected of him had been done.
Avery turned away from the mirror and stared accusingly at the closed door. “You really wanted to talk to me, didn’t you?” he asked. “Practically broke down the door!” Once upon a time his father would not have gone out without making sure Avery was safely tucked into bed as well. He picked up the first thing that came to hand – a tube of lip-gloss – and hurled it at the closed door. It broke open when it hit, leaving a shiny pink trail down the white wood.
~*~
The corners of Fabian’s lips curled into a cruel smile. He had made up his mind. He would have the boy in his labyrinth tonight. Even if Avery were not the one to break the spell he would be more entertaining than kicking goblins if he threw anymore of those tantrums.
Author: Allison Wonderland
Rating: PG-13 this chapter, NC-17 overall.
Summary: Avery goes to his room and his father comes to talk to him.
Warning(s): Implied homosexuality, language.
Disclaimer: Technically, this is a rewrite of the movie Labyrinth. However, how much it resembles the movie remains to be seen. I do not own/am not associated with Labyrinth or anything related to it. However, all of the characters and some of the ideas in this story are mine.
Note(s): None this chapter.
~*~
Sometimes it seemed to Avery that his bedroom was the only safe place for him in the entire world. It was certainly the only safe place for him in the house and the only room that had remained untouched since before the divorce. The wallpaper was the same baby blue and sea green stripes it had been since Avery was about twelve and his mother had helped him redecorate his old nursery into a bedroom befitting a teenage boy rather than a child but very little actual wall paper was visible around the multitude of posters and prints tacked up on the walls. The carpet matched the green stripes in the wallpaper. On the wall opposite the door was a window that looked out on the street in front of the house. To the left of the window was a white wooden twin size four-poster canopy bed. The canopy itself was baby blue as was the comforter and the dust ruffle around the bottom of the bed. The sheets, what little bit of them that was visible anyway, were a pale green color even lighter than the sea green stripes in the wallpaper. On the bed were several thick, fluffy pillows of varying sizes and colors. The bed was pushed up against the wall on one side but on the other side was a matching white nightstand on which sat a blue glitter lamp with a silver base, a black digital alarm clock, and a battered, dog eared copy of the children’s book Where The Wild Things Are. In the corner to the right of the bed were two large bookshelves completely filled with books – most of them about adventures in fantasy lands like the complete Wizard Of Oz series, several Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter novels, The Farthest Away Mountain by Lynne Reid Banks, and the complete set of Pet Shop Of Horrors mangas. On top of both bookshelves was an odd assortment of stuffed animals. Several feet away from the bookcases was his closet door and in the next corner an L-shaped computer desk with a laptop, printer, CD player, and piles of computer games and CDs. The top shelf, like the bookshelves, was filled with an assortment of stuffed animals. Next to the door was a make up table with a mirror; something that woman had tried to make Avery get rid of because it ‘just isn’t suitable for a boy your age to be so obsessed with his appearance, not to mention wear makeup.’ But Avery had won because for once his father had actually stood up for him, saying that it was his mother’s and if Avery wanted to keep it, let him because it was not worth the fight to get rid of it. It too, except for the mirror, was piled high with stuffed animals and books as well as an assortment of eyeliner pencils and lip-glosses. In the middle of the floor – what small part that was not covered with furniture or stuffed animals – laid a rug in a colorful under water print.
The closet door was a shrine of sorts to Avery’s mother. It was covered in posters and photographs and newspaper and magazine clippings that displayed the actress in a variety of different costumes for playing a multitude of different parts in different Broadway plays. Avery’s favorite was the Wicked poster right in the middle. It was from the past summer, which he had spent with his mother and her boyfriend in New York. Avery had been lucky enough to see the play on opening night and attend the cast party afterward. It had only affirmed his desire to be an actor, something his father and that woman abhorred.
And curled up on the rug was Avery. He was still soaked, so wet the warm air inside the house had not even started to dry him yet, but he had stopped crying just moments ago. His eyes were red and watery, his cheeks flushed, and he still whimpered or shook periodically. His nose ran and he sniffled but that could have been because of the cold. He rubbed his face with the back of his left hand and sat up. Sniffling again he stood up from the now decidedly damp rug and sat down on the stool before the mirror among an assortment of stuffed toys. Avery picked up a small white chest – much like a jewelry chest or one a pirate might keep its treasure in – and opened it. Inside it was lined with bright blue silk and a small male figure dressed in blue began to spin around and around as music played. It had been a gift from his mother and her boyfriend on his seventeenth birthday.
The memory was the happiest one he had since the divorce. Avery had arrived in the city the day before and it just happened that his birthday and opening night for the play his mother and her boyfriend – credited on the playbill as Christianna McQueen and Jackson Brandt – were to star in as the fairy queen and king fell on the same date. Avery had been staying in his own suite at the Hilton hotel because Christianna and Jackson were in the process of moving into a new town house and it was a mess from the moving in. They had met him at the hotel in a limousine and had taken him to an exclusive by reservation only Italian restaurant for dinner then shopping at Macy’s where they had bought him a special outfit to wear that night and replenished his wardrobe with so many designer clothes he had had to have another suitcase to carry it all home in. Then there was the play that had been all the promoters had said it would be and more. After the play was the opening night cast and crew party which Avery had been allowed to attend because he had the distinct honor of being the child of the famous Christianna McQueen. Somehow the cast and crew party had turned into Avery’s birthday party when someone had brought out a birthday cake and ice cream. His mother had given him her gift then, and so had everyone else at the party, but his favorite was the little music box from his mother and her boyfriend. Then that night, much later than his father and The Bitch thought was appropriate for a bedtime, the same limousine had taken him back to the hotel where he had had a two hour long bubble bath then gotten into bed beneath a soft down comforter with his penguin and immediately fallen asleep. The next morning there had been a photo of him in the paper and mentions of Christianna McQueen’s son on the infamous Page Six.
Avery wanted to be an actor like his mother and Jackson only he wanted to be in movies or maybe even have his own dramatic television show instead of being onstage in Broadway musicals. He could memorize poetry and song lyrics but he could never remember lines from plays – at least not the ones he was trying to memorize – or books. He was having such trouble memorizing that one little speech from the Labyrinth book, the one little but earth shattering speech that the heroine said to the Goblin King at the end of the story. It was only a game he was playing, imagining himself facing a great adversary to rescue a child he had wished away in the first place. It was not as if it mattered that he could not memorize it. Well, not to anyone but Avery himself anyway. It should have been a piece of cake but then nothing was ever really fair in Avery’s life. Nothing that mattered to him anyway. How was he ever going to get his own television show if he could not memorize a few little lines from an old book?
Maybe if he prepared for his performance like an actor in one of the dramatic television shows he wanted to be in one day or like his mother before she went onstage he could finally memorize it. There was something his mother had told him once…what was it? Something about how makeup and costumes and wigs and things were more for the actor’s benefit than for the audience’s because they helped the actor get into character. Maybe she was right. Avery took a tube of dark red lipstick out of one of the makeup drawers. It was not quite the color he imagined the girl from Labyrinth wearing; she was such a princess she probably only wore pink but it was the color that looked best on Avery with his dark hair and tan skin tone. Even an actor had to make some compromises to look good and play a part right too. He applied the lipstick and blew a kiss at the mirror. That made him feel a little better and he smiled. The tiniest bit of eyeliner completed his preparations and he looked in the mirror. No, there was still something else. The girl in the book was some sort of princess… There was a teddy bear with a large tinfoil crown sitting to one side of the makeup table. He took the crown off and put it on his own head. That was better. “Give me the child,” he began again, threatening his reflection in the mirror with the eyeliner pencil.
Oh, that was good.
“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the goblin city-“ here he gestured to the window. Surely there was something out there that could be used as a castle “-to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours and my kingdom is as-“
Someone knocked on the door and Avery jumped. “Avery,” his father’s voice called sternly from outside the door. “Can I talk to you?”
Just like that Avery’s good mood was gone. He rubbed the lipstick off with a tissue. The eyeliner his father did not like but would not object to but he had never tried the lipstick. The tinfoil crown was hurriedly placed back on the teddy bear. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he shouted angrily. Ever since the day his father had walked in to find Avery pleasuring himself on his bed the man would not walk in unless invited. “You’d better hurry or you’re going to be late,” he muttered mockingly, just loudly enough for his father to hear from outside his door.
His father seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing. “We’ve fed Jilly and put her to bed,” the man said. “We do have to leave now but we’ll be back around midnight.” Then there were the sounds of footsteps heading away from the door, as if he considered his parenting duty over and all that could be expected of him had been done.
Avery turned away from the mirror and stared accusingly at the closed door. “You really wanted to talk to me, didn’t you?” he asked. “Practically broke down the door!” Once upon a time his father would not have gone out without making sure Avery was safely tucked into bed as well. He picked up the first thing that came to hand – a tube of lip-gloss – and hurled it at the closed door. It broke open when it hit, leaving a shiny pink trail down the white wood.
~*~
The corners of Fabian’s lips curled into a cruel smile. He had made up his mind. He would have the boy in his labyrinth tonight. Even if Avery were not the one to break the spell he would be more entertaining than kicking goblins if he threw anymore of those tantrums.