Finally!
Title: Don't Let Go
Author: myforgottenpain
Pairing: Vam
Rating: R for language and violence.
Summary: “Don't let go... because if you won't, then I won't...”
Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected to Ville Valo, or Bam Margera. (Or anyone else mentioned) Nor do I imply that in reality they are anything but friends. The only character I own in this whole story is Eevi. Additionally the title and summary obviously belong to our lovely Ville.
Authors Notes: This story has been about five years in the making. I'm still shocked that this is happening. Hopefully it will be as good as I hope it is.
Guest appearances made by: Johnny Knoxville, Brandon Novak, Ryan Dunn, Larui Ylonen, Anita and Kari Valo, the always beautiful Jonne “little pixie” Aaron, Tuomas from Nightwish, Jussi and Jyrki from 69 Eyes and the men of Apocalyptica. So many pretty Finns! Do I have enough?
It was hard to know, if the city had ever been beautiful. Maybe in another world, or another time, it could have been quite lovely. A place where the streets were not over flowing with the filth of humanity, and the land was not raped all of its life sustaining ability. Now, it was a place that had been drained of all its color. The only life that seemed to exist inside of its stone walls, were the souls that lived in the decapitated buildings that sprung up on the outskirts of the town. These were the people who lived for the night, for fun, and for thrills that helped them forget their own destitute state.
The inner core of the city was a mass of tall sky scrappers that disappeared into the clouds. This was where Bam was born, but never called it his home. His parents were the definition of absent parents. They never bothered to lay a hand on him, let alone bother to offer him a kind word. His nanny's didn't even offer him that.
Bam did not belong to this world. He knew it as much as everyone else did, and no one let him forget. When he walked into a room, all eyes were on him. People openly displayed their dislike of him and his ways, but he never backed down under the power of their stares. He met their eyes and often stared back until they looked down. He would never be like them, scraping along on their bellies...
No, Bam did not belong in this world. He may have been born to it, but he longed for something more, something real. This world and its washed out colors would never meet his needs. Their watered down emotions would never tolerate his intrepid disposition. He said what he meant, and spoke the truth when no one else did. In a world were silence was expected, he was wild and boisterous. When blind obedience was demanded, Bam questioned and took his own path.
He was after all, far too bold for them. His eyes were too striking, his voice to loud, his spirit too untamed for their tastes. He was unstoppable, and unmanageable, nothing but death would ever change that. Some said, in controlled whispers when he had left the room; that even the devil him self could not control Bam Margera.
A sigh escaped his lips, loud and clear, with no attempt to stifle or cover it up. A few individuals at the large dinning table, wiggled uncomfortably in their seats. But no one dared to look up, let alone speak. He was so tired of their placid faces and their lackluster personalities. Bam craved excitement and adventure and he would never find it here. These were not men and women, but mere cattle that had been lead ever so contently to their troughs. They chewed their cuds and would never change their ways. No one here ever wondered about what lie outside these familiar pastures.
Pushing away from the hard oak surface of the table, Bam rose to his feet. Coughs of people choking on their food, and silverware clattering to the china dish ware, was the only sign that another tradition was being broken. No one spoke the indigently they felt as Bam left the room, but everyone was silently glad that he was gone.
He moved down the hallway, pausing only briefly to chat with a maid. She smiled friendly to him and told him about a party that was happening down town. He thanked her for her information, walking backwards as he waved to her. He turned on his heel and jogged the rest of the way to his room.
The interior of the sky scrapper, that Bam spent part of his days in, was steel enforced, sterile, and cold. That is, except for his bedroom. Bright slashes of color and action decorated the cluttered room, emphasizing its owner’s eccentric life style. It was the size of a large apt, with its own bathroom, and a mini kitchen. Technically, he could live quite comfortable in his space, but Bam hated the confided feeling of living in this place.
Since he had never conformed to the dress code of the establishment, he only had to pull on a jacket and grab his duffel bag before leaving. The door closed behind him and he was soon skating down the hallway. The maid shook her head as he grinned, waving as he passed her. No one, in this part of town, would dare to be caught doing something as outlandish as skating. It was common belief that only the rejects of society would indulge in such a reckless pass-time. No one of their breeding would... accept Bam.
He flew out the front door, knocking over a judge and his wife, before grinding down the railing. He hit the street, causing people to run from him, as he disappeared into the night.
****
Downtown, was a world of loud rock music and bright lights. Here, Bam didn't stand out as much as he did in the towers of the inner city. In a world where there were three classes of people, Bam's only refuge was here, among the disjointed under class. These streets were run by a motley of people, ranging from homeless beggars, to disillusioned teens, who could not bear to live in the closed walls of their families.
Coming to a stop outside his favorite night club, Bam quickly spotted his friends, barely into their 20’s just like Bam himself; the youngest of them all. They surrounded him and teased him playfully about smelling like the diamond-ed collared pigs he lived with. They may not have the money that Bam had, but they were happy and free, and Bam would give anything to feel that way.
"Why don't you leave that place?" Ryan asked for about the millionth time since their original meeting. He turned his eyes to the center of town and to the looming sky scrappers that protected the 'socially fit'. The shadows cast on the rest of the city were as oppressive as the individuals who lived in their steel walls. Everyone's life was controlled in those rooms, though they never ventured out and interacted with the people they dominated, save for Bam that is.
"You know I can't." Bam replied softly. He wanted to leave that world so much, but for now he was chained to that place and the people in it.
"Your father is still ill?" Johnny asked carefully and Bam nodded his head, looking down at his black boots, noticing how dusty they already were.
"Hey! Let’s skate!" Novak suddenly exclaimed, "Or at least watch Bam skate."
Bam smiled at his friends, forever thankful to at least have them.
****
The sound of his deck hitting the well worn, wooden, surface of the half pipe, reverberated into the night, as he pulled off another trick. His friends cheered and splashed cheap beer over themselves as they enthusiastically toasted to his amazing abilities. No one could skate as good as Bam could, which was a constant sore spot for the other locals. For now nothing else mattered, the cold confining walls of his life were shattered by the laughter and jokes of his friends. Their friendship carried his spirit to the world it truly belonged in.
**Flashback**
Even from the street below, people could see the shinning figure that was walking so carefully along the edge of the wall. To be able to do this was not something unique to this part of the world, to walk there so blatantly was something that was generally frowned upon.
The bright white, full length, jacket and matching pleather pants, were stark against the dull gray of the building. His skin, so pale, especially against his clothing, was exposed from the waist up; another taboo broken by this misfit. In fact, his jacket had slid from his slender shoulders.
His long black and blond hair was tossed by the wind, as he continued his silent walk, hundreds of miles above the earth’s surface.
Jonne His name was whispered, only when he was no where in sight. He was a legend, even among his immortal brethren. It was because of that, he was allowed to do the things he did. No one dared to say anything to him. The powers that lie inside of him were as limitless, as he was ageless.
Truthfully, many had forgotten how old he was. Some wondered if he even remembered. Most believed he had cracked under the weight of that gift. The way he wandered around the castle, didn't seem to help anyone's impression of him.
Hopping from the rail, Jonne wrapped his fingers around a beam and twirled around it twice, before he continued walking. He was humming softly to himself, seemly lost in his own thoughts.
He continued in that manner, until he realized he wasn't alone... at least... when he realized someone important had stumbled upon his journey. Chewing on his thumb, he stopped and turned around to look at the small boy, a few feet away from him.
Poor thing... he thought to himself, slowly making his way over to the child. Dropping down to the floor under them so that his feet were easily tucked under his ass, he gazed into and past, the eyes of the youth.
The world melted away and formed into a new one. He saw himself, in a bright red robe shinning in the dark night. This other form of him self, was walking over to the edge of a balcony, the scent of the woods all around them. There was a figure, just a few feet away, a young man to be exact.
Jonne watched himself as he moved closer to the young man, before he followed.
The young man wasn't dressed in the sort of clothing that Jonne was used to seeing. Some sort of, dark blue material, a black top with the sleeves cut off above the elbows. There was also a thin piece of material around his neck. It was very confusing, and yet, looked very nice on him.
He watched himself sitting near the young man, talking intimately, wondering what was being said. He watched as the stranger's long, dark, auburn hair was tossed by the wind. Delicate gold hoops hung in his ears, sparkling in the moonlight.
A strange noise from just off to the side, filled his ears. Jonne had no idea what it could be, or what could make such a sound, but it was rhythmic. There was something about it that seemed so important, but he didn't turn to look. He merely continued to look at the man next to him, amazed at how intensely interesting it was to him. His striking green eyes were filled with so much emotion that it touched Jonne. It was like when you are so moved by something beautiful that you can't help but cry.
That's how he looked, as if mourning how fleeting beauty can be.
What caused this, Jonne didn't get a chance to see. He was sucked back into the present time, his eyes still on the green ones from before. Now they were filled with innocence, unaware of what his future would, or could, hold. Jonne could never been too sure with his premonitions. To the boy, a few seconds had passed, yet he knew something had transpired.
Reaching out quickly, Jonne knocked his hood back and yanked the mask down, revealing the boys face. It was passe in their culture, for anyone to reveal to much of their bodies, let alone someone of royalty. Jonne had never placed much value in that tradition, and now, he needed to confirm something. Without a single doubt now, Jonne knew for sure that this was the young man from the vision. He also knew, that one day they would be really good friends.
The boy was shocked that someone would do something like that, yet, he was intrigued that he wasn't struck dead for revealing his face. It had always seemed to him that something horrible would transpire, yet nothing happened. It was his awakening in a way, realizing the folly in placing too much importance on foolish traditions.
"Ville!" They both looked to the woman that was running towards them, but Ville made no effort to cover his face. This pleased Jonne greatly.
Jonne stood and offered the woman the slightest of bows. "Anita." He grinned when she shot him a hateful look. "I mean... my Queen." He corrected half-heartedly.
Anita dropped to her knees and quickly pulled the mask over Ville's face, so everything from the bridge of his nose down was covered. Just as quickly, she pulled the hood back over his head, smoothing it out a little. "Are you alright precious?" She asked softly.
Ville nodded and looked to Jonne again. Jonne couldn't see the boy’s lips, but he had a feeling Ville was smiling at him. This just made Anita scowl more. She shot to her feet and quickly pushed her son behind her own body. Jonne continued to grin, even after she smacked him. "How dare you!"
Jonne eased his head back to looking at Anita, his body never moved. "Always good to see you too."
Anita's face twisted in anger, "How dare you speak to me in such a manner, let alone pull our prince's mask off? Who do you think you are?"
"I believe my whore of a mother named me Jonne. I'm surprised you would forget that. Oh, and before I forget, my lady," Jonne said, quickly adding in the last part as if it didn't matter. Anita reached back and smacked him again, this time with the back of her hand. Jonne once more moved his head so he was looking at her directly, cracking his jaw this time. "Is that supposed to bother me, because my mother did much worse ." His eyes narrowed in defiance and he spoke.
Anita's eyes flashed for a moment, before she leaned in and whispered. “You may have everyone else around here fooled. I know you are not half as... whimsical... as you pretend to me.”
“What's your point?” Jonne asked, just as softly.
"Stay away from my son." Anita hissed, glaring back at Jonne in a way that spoke of the hell she would bring down on him if he didn't, before she turned on her heel and left. Her hand was barely touching the back of Ville's head as she steered him away from Jonne. Her nose was so stuck in the air, that she didn't even noticed Ville peeking back at Jonne.
Jonne had casually shrugged at her threatening command, smirked once again when he noticed Ville looking at him. He waved to the boy and mentally formed the words, See you around Ville. Jonne chuckled as the boy, and his mother, disappeared through another doorway.
And as the door shut, Ville was thinking the words: Nice to meet you Jonne.
***********
Jonne's appearance in Ville's life had influenced him dramatically. Shortly after their meeting, Ville had started sneaking away from his parents, searching for Jonne in the quiet, reclusive, corners of the castle. There, Jonne would share with him his knowledge of the years that stretched far back into the history of the world.
Only when he had the youth thoroughly hooked, did he start to refuse to speak to him, until he rid himself of his confiding clothing. Eventually, Ville started shedding it piece by piece, even when he was not with Jonne.
It had been horrifying to his parents and they didn't know what to do. No one, other than Jonne, had ever refused to obey the traditional garb of their culture. Now, their prince was as well. Anita decided it would be best to let it slide for the time, so long as no one else tried it.
Ville, now a young man in what appeared to be his early 20’s; was sprawled across the throne. One of his leg were dangling over the right arm rest, his upper body was over the left. He was blowing smoke rings, trying to make a bulls-eye, so far he hadn't been able to succeed. He didn't move when his mother came striding into the room. He didn't even look at her, or the fake smile on her lips.
"Ville darling."
He grunted and sat up a little, his leg still hung over the arm rest, but now he was slouching in the throne. He took another drag from his cigarette and blew it at his mother. "What?"
Anita fidgeted nervously, "Why aren't you dressed appropriately?"
Ville rolled his eyes and went back to his original position. "I hate that fucking mask."
Anita went tense, slowly relaxing, "Ville… kulta... its tradition."
"Fuck tradition." Ville answered, shifting to sitting completely up. He stood and went striding past his mother. "Jonne doesn't give a shit about tradition." Anita's face contorted and she clenched her fists. Ville smirked and took a final drag from his cigarette before butting it out on the wall.
Anita quickly collected herself and followed her son. "Where are you going Ville? Someone might see you."
"Let them see me, what’s so special about me anyways?"
She gasped, and for a moment, she looked like she might die of shock. "What's so important about you? What's so important about you? You are the most important being alive!"
Ville sighed and leaned against the window sill, looking out on the night. "Maybe I don't want to be that person anymore." He whispered, knowing it didn't matter to anyone else.
"Now don't be silly Ville darling. You are wonderful and perfect..." Anita tried, gasping when Ville pushed away from her.
"I don't have the patience to listen to that tonight momma." Ville snapped, heading down the hall.
"Where do you think you're going?!" Anita cried, fearing she already knew the answer.
Ville stopped and looked at his mother. "It's been far too long since I saw Jonne. I'm sure Linde and Burton would love to see him too." Before his mother could protest, he disappeared down the hall
*********************
"Do you really think this is a good idea Ville?"
Ville turned his eyes on his friend, a serious look on his face, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."
Burton frowned, "I didn't say that. If you want to go, I will come with you."
"Same with me." Another male said, causing Ville to smile gently.
"Thank you... both of you."
"I just don't think it’s a good idea. I'm surprised Burton is going along with it so easily." Linde muttered, folding his arms.
Burton sighed, "Is there really a point with arguing with him? When Ville sets his mind to something, there is no stopping him."
The smile grew on Ville's lips as he moved to the open window. He closed his eyes as the night air rushed over him. "Come on boys.... where is your sense of adventure?"
*******************
They moved effortlessly down the dark streets of the human city. They had been traveling for a few days now, not that they couldn't have reached their designation a lot faster, but Ville had to see the sights. Ville was in love with misery, and what better way to enjoy it, then watching humans who seemed so willing to share it with each other? Ville's eyes were wide, and alert, as he took everything in. He watched the beggars on the streets, the prostitutes who tried to sell another piece of themselves to him, and the street urchins playing with their meager toys. He caught every little detail, admiring it the way an anthropologist would study an ancient society.
An unfamiliar noise caught Ville's attention, causing him to look ahead, just in time to see a strange contraption appear before his eyes. It seemed to be a piece of wood attached to wheels, but for what purpose, he could not tell.
Bringing his foot up, he stopped it, rocking his foot back and forth to see what it was.
"Let’s go." Linde hissed in Ville's ear, but Ville didn't listen to him. He was too busy trying to understand the purpose of the object under his foot.
"Someone is coming." Burton whispered, causing Ville to finally look away from the thing under his foot.
Footsteps echoed in the night and Ville realized something powerful was happening. As an outside observer, he had always watched humans interacting with one another, and that in itself, was taboo for someone like himself. Why should he care about them? Yet he did, and he had never had a chance to actually communicate with one. The thought filled him with excitement. So instead of slipping away like Burton and Linde, he let the young man approach him. He watched as he crouched down to retrieve the object under his boot.
Still, Ville did not move. The young man looked up and their eyes meet. Even if he had been aware of Burton tugging on his arm, he would have been unaware of it now. And for that moment, time stood still, and he lost himself in the eyes of the mortal in front of him.
Author: myforgottenpain
Pairing: Vam
Rating: R for language and violence.
Summary: “Don't let go... because if you won't, then I won't...”
Disclaimer: I don't own anything connected to Ville Valo, or Bam Margera. (Or anyone else mentioned) Nor do I imply that in reality they are anything but friends. The only character I own in this whole story is Eevi. Additionally the title and summary obviously belong to our lovely Ville.
Authors Notes: This story has been about five years in the making. I'm still shocked that this is happening. Hopefully it will be as good as I hope it is.
Guest appearances made by: Johnny Knoxville, Brandon Novak, Ryan Dunn, Larui Ylonen, Anita and Kari Valo, the always beautiful Jonne “little pixie” Aaron, Tuomas from Nightwish, Jussi and Jyrki from 69 Eyes and the men of Apocalyptica. So many pretty Finns! Do I have enough?
It was hard to know, if the city had ever been beautiful. Maybe in another world, or another time, it could have been quite lovely. A place where the streets were not over flowing with the filth of humanity, and the land was not raped all of its life sustaining ability. Now, it was a place that had been drained of all its color. The only life that seemed to exist inside of its stone walls, were the souls that lived in the decapitated buildings that sprung up on the outskirts of the town. These were the people who lived for the night, for fun, and for thrills that helped them forget their own destitute state.
The inner core of the city was a mass of tall sky scrappers that disappeared into the clouds. This was where Bam was born, but never called it his home. His parents were the definition of absent parents. They never bothered to lay a hand on him, let alone bother to offer him a kind word. His nanny's didn't even offer him that.
Bam did not belong to this world. He knew it as much as everyone else did, and no one let him forget. When he walked into a room, all eyes were on him. People openly displayed their dislike of him and his ways, but he never backed down under the power of their stares. He met their eyes and often stared back until they looked down. He would never be like them, scraping along on their bellies...
No, Bam did not belong in this world. He may have been born to it, but he longed for something more, something real. This world and its washed out colors would never meet his needs. Their watered down emotions would never tolerate his intrepid disposition. He said what he meant, and spoke the truth when no one else did. In a world were silence was expected, he was wild and boisterous. When blind obedience was demanded, Bam questioned and took his own path.
He was after all, far too bold for them. His eyes were too striking, his voice to loud, his spirit too untamed for their tastes. He was unstoppable, and unmanageable, nothing but death would ever change that. Some said, in controlled whispers when he had left the room; that even the devil him self could not control Bam Margera.
A sigh escaped his lips, loud and clear, with no attempt to stifle or cover it up. A few individuals at the large dinning table, wiggled uncomfortably in their seats. But no one dared to look up, let alone speak. He was so tired of their placid faces and their lackluster personalities. Bam craved excitement and adventure and he would never find it here. These were not men and women, but mere cattle that had been lead ever so contently to their troughs. They chewed their cuds and would never change their ways. No one here ever wondered about what lie outside these familiar pastures.
Pushing away from the hard oak surface of the table, Bam rose to his feet. Coughs of people choking on their food, and silverware clattering to the china dish ware, was the only sign that another tradition was being broken. No one spoke the indigently they felt as Bam left the room, but everyone was silently glad that he was gone.
He moved down the hallway, pausing only briefly to chat with a maid. She smiled friendly to him and told him about a party that was happening down town. He thanked her for her information, walking backwards as he waved to her. He turned on his heel and jogged the rest of the way to his room.
The interior of the sky scrapper, that Bam spent part of his days in, was steel enforced, sterile, and cold. That is, except for his bedroom. Bright slashes of color and action decorated the cluttered room, emphasizing its owner’s eccentric life style. It was the size of a large apt, with its own bathroom, and a mini kitchen. Technically, he could live quite comfortable in his space, but Bam hated the confided feeling of living in this place.
Since he had never conformed to the dress code of the establishment, he only had to pull on a jacket and grab his duffel bag before leaving. The door closed behind him and he was soon skating down the hallway. The maid shook her head as he grinned, waving as he passed her. No one, in this part of town, would dare to be caught doing something as outlandish as skating. It was common belief that only the rejects of society would indulge in such a reckless pass-time. No one of their breeding would... accept Bam.
He flew out the front door, knocking over a judge and his wife, before grinding down the railing. He hit the street, causing people to run from him, as he disappeared into the night.
****
Downtown, was a world of loud rock music and bright lights. Here, Bam didn't stand out as much as he did in the towers of the inner city. In a world where there were three classes of people, Bam's only refuge was here, among the disjointed under class. These streets were run by a motley of people, ranging from homeless beggars, to disillusioned teens, who could not bear to live in the closed walls of their families.
Coming to a stop outside his favorite night club, Bam quickly spotted his friends, barely into their 20’s just like Bam himself; the youngest of them all. They surrounded him and teased him playfully about smelling like the diamond-ed collared pigs he lived with. They may not have the money that Bam had, but they were happy and free, and Bam would give anything to feel that way.
"Why don't you leave that place?" Ryan asked for about the millionth time since their original meeting. He turned his eyes to the center of town and to the looming sky scrappers that protected the 'socially fit'. The shadows cast on the rest of the city were as oppressive as the individuals who lived in their steel walls. Everyone's life was controlled in those rooms, though they never ventured out and interacted with the people they dominated, save for Bam that is.
"You know I can't." Bam replied softly. He wanted to leave that world so much, but for now he was chained to that place and the people in it.
"Your father is still ill?" Johnny asked carefully and Bam nodded his head, looking down at his black boots, noticing how dusty they already were.
"Hey! Let’s skate!" Novak suddenly exclaimed, "Or at least watch Bam skate."
Bam smiled at his friends, forever thankful to at least have them.
****
The sound of his deck hitting the well worn, wooden, surface of the half pipe, reverberated into the night, as he pulled off another trick. His friends cheered and splashed cheap beer over themselves as they enthusiastically toasted to his amazing abilities. No one could skate as good as Bam could, which was a constant sore spot for the other locals. For now nothing else mattered, the cold confining walls of his life were shattered by the laughter and jokes of his friends. Their friendship carried his spirit to the world it truly belonged in.
**Flashback**
Even from the street below, people could see the shinning figure that was walking so carefully along the edge of the wall. To be able to do this was not something unique to this part of the world, to walk there so blatantly was something that was generally frowned upon.
The bright white, full length, jacket and matching pleather pants, were stark against the dull gray of the building. His skin, so pale, especially against his clothing, was exposed from the waist up; another taboo broken by this misfit. In fact, his jacket had slid from his slender shoulders.
His long black and blond hair was tossed by the wind, as he continued his silent walk, hundreds of miles above the earth’s surface.
Jonne His name was whispered, only when he was no where in sight. He was a legend, even among his immortal brethren. It was because of that, he was allowed to do the things he did. No one dared to say anything to him. The powers that lie inside of him were as limitless, as he was ageless.
Truthfully, many had forgotten how old he was. Some wondered if he even remembered. Most believed he had cracked under the weight of that gift. The way he wandered around the castle, didn't seem to help anyone's impression of him.
Hopping from the rail, Jonne wrapped his fingers around a beam and twirled around it twice, before he continued walking. He was humming softly to himself, seemly lost in his own thoughts.
He continued in that manner, until he realized he wasn't alone... at least... when he realized someone important had stumbled upon his journey. Chewing on his thumb, he stopped and turned around to look at the small boy, a few feet away from him.
Poor thing... he thought to himself, slowly making his way over to the child. Dropping down to the floor under them so that his feet were easily tucked under his ass, he gazed into and past, the eyes of the youth.
The world melted away and formed into a new one. He saw himself, in a bright red robe shinning in the dark night. This other form of him self, was walking over to the edge of a balcony, the scent of the woods all around them. There was a figure, just a few feet away, a young man to be exact.
Jonne watched himself as he moved closer to the young man, before he followed.
The young man wasn't dressed in the sort of clothing that Jonne was used to seeing. Some sort of, dark blue material, a black top with the sleeves cut off above the elbows. There was also a thin piece of material around his neck. It was very confusing, and yet, looked very nice on him.
He watched himself sitting near the young man, talking intimately, wondering what was being said. He watched as the stranger's long, dark, auburn hair was tossed by the wind. Delicate gold hoops hung in his ears, sparkling in the moonlight.
A strange noise from just off to the side, filled his ears. Jonne had no idea what it could be, or what could make such a sound, but it was rhythmic. There was something about it that seemed so important, but he didn't turn to look. He merely continued to look at the man next to him, amazed at how intensely interesting it was to him. His striking green eyes were filled with so much emotion that it touched Jonne. It was like when you are so moved by something beautiful that you can't help but cry.
That's how he looked, as if mourning how fleeting beauty can be.
What caused this, Jonne didn't get a chance to see. He was sucked back into the present time, his eyes still on the green ones from before. Now they were filled with innocence, unaware of what his future would, or could, hold. Jonne could never been too sure with his premonitions. To the boy, a few seconds had passed, yet he knew something had transpired.
Reaching out quickly, Jonne knocked his hood back and yanked the mask down, revealing the boys face. It was passe in their culture, for anyone to reveal to much of their bodies, let alone someone of royalty. Jonne had never placed much value in that tradition, and now, he needed to confirm something. Without a single doubt now, Jonne knew for sure that this was the young man from the vision. He also knew, that one day they would be really good friends.
The boy was shocked that someone would do something like that, yet, he was intrigued that he wasn't struck dead for revealing his face. It had always seemed to him that something horrible would transpire, yet nothing happened. It was his awakening in a way, realizing the folly in placing too much importance on foolish traditions.
"Ville!" They both looked to the woman that was running towards them, but Ville made no effort to cover his face. This pleased Jonne greatly.
Jonne stood and offered the woman the slightest of bows. "Anita." He grinned when she shot him a hateful look. "I mean... my Queen." He corrected half-heartedly.
Anita dropped to her knees and quickly pulled the mask over Ville's face, so everything from the bridge of his nose down was covered. Just as quickly, she pulled the hood back over his head, smoothing it out a little. "Are you alright precious?" She asked softly.
Ville nodded and looked to Jonne again. Jonne couldn't see the boy’s lips, but he had a feeling Ville was smiling at him. This just made Anita scowl more. She shot to her feet and quickly pushed her son behind her own body. Jonne continued to grin, even after she smacked him. "How dare you!"
Jonne eased his head back to looking at Anita, his body never moved. "Always good to see you too."
Anita's face twisted in anger, "How dare you speak to me in such a manner, let alone pull our prince's mask off? Who do you think you are?"
"I believe my whore of a mother named me Jonne. I'm surprised you would forget that. Oh, and before I forget, my lady," Jonne said, quickly adding in the last part as if it didn't matter. Anita reached back and smacked him again, this time with the back of her hand. Jonne once more moved his head so he was looking at her directly, cracking his jaw this time. "Is that supposed to bother me, because my mother did much worse ." His eyes narrowed in defiance and he spoke.
Anita's eyes flashed for a moment, before she leaned in and whispered. “You may have everyone else around here fooled. I know you are not half as... whimsical... as you pretend to me.”
“What's your point?” Jonne asked, just as softly.
"Stay away from my son." Anita hissed, glaring back at Jonne in a way that spoke of the hell she would bring down on him if he didn't, before she turned on her heel and left. Her hand was barely touching the back of Ville's head as she steered him away from Jonne. Her nose was so stuck in the air, that she didn't even noticed Ville peeking back at Jonne.
Jonne had casually shrugged at her threatening command, smirked once again when he noticed Ville looking at him. He waved to the boy and mentally formed the words, See you around Ville. Jonne chuckled as the boy, and his mother, disappeared through another doorway.
And as the door shut, Ville was thinking the words: Nice to meet you Jonne.
***********
Jonne's appearance in Ville's life had influenced him dramatically. Shortly after their meeting, Ville had started sneaking away from his parents, searching for Jonne in the quiet, reclusive, corners of the castle. There, Jonne would share with him his knowledge of the years that stretched far back into the history of the world.
Only when he had the youth thoroughly hooked, did he start to refuse to speak to him, until he rid himself of his confiding clothing. Eventually, Ville started shedding it piece by piece, even when he was not with Jonne.
It had been horrifying to his parents and they didn't know what to do. No one, other than Jonne, had ever refused to obey the traditional garb of their culture. Now, their prince was as well. Anita decided it would be best to let it slide for the time, so long as no one else tried it.
Ville, now a young man in what appeared to be his early 20’s; was sprawled across the throne. One of his leg were dangling over the right arm rest, his upper body was over the left. He was blowing smoke rings, trying to make a bulls-eye, so far he hadn't been able to succeed. He didn't move when his mother came striding into the room. He didn't even look at her, or the fake smile on her lips.
"Ville darling."
He grunted and sat up a little, his leg still hung over the arm rest, but now he was slouching in the throne. He took another drag from his cigarette and blew it at his mother. "What?"
Anita fidgeted nervously, "Why aren't you dressed appropriately?"
Ville rolled his eyes and went back to his original position. "I hate that fucking mask."
Anita went tense, slowly relaxing, "Ville… kulta... its tradition."
"Fuck tradition." Ville answered, shifting to sitting completely up. He stood and went striding past his mother. "Jonne doesn't give a shit about tradition." Anita's face contorted and she clenched her fists. Ville smirked and took a final drag from his cigarette before butting it out on the wall.
Anita quickly collected herself and followed her son. "Where are you going Ville? Someone might see you."
"Let them see me, what’s so special about me anyways?"
She gasped, and for a moment, she looked like she might die of shock. "What's so important about you? What's so important about you? You are the most important being alive!"
Ville sighed and leaned against the window sill, looking out on the night. "Maybe I don't want to be that person anymore." He whispered, knowing it didn't matter to anyone else.
"Now don't be silly Ville darling. You are wonderful and perfect..." Anita tried, gasping when Ville pushed away from her.
"I don't have the patience to listen to that tonight momma." Ville snapped, heading down the hall.
"Where do you think you're going?!" Anita cried, fearing she already knew the answer.
Ville stopped and looked at his mother. "It's been far too long since I saw Jonne. I'm sure Linde and Burton would love to see him too." Before his mother could protest, he disappeared down the hall
*********************
"Do you really think this is a good idea Ville?"
Ville turned his eyes on his friend, a serious look on his face, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."
Burton frowned, "I didn't say that. If you want to go, I will come with you."
"Same with me." Another male said, causing Ville to smile gently.
"Thank you... both of you."
"I just don't think it’s a good idea. I'm surprised Burton is going along with it so easily." Linde muttered, folding his arms.
Burton sighed, "Is there really a point with arguing with him? When Ville sets his mind to something, there is no stopping him."
The smile grew on Ville's lips as he moved to the open window. He closed his eyes as the night air rushed over him. "Come on boys.... where is your sense of adventure?"
*******************
They moved effortlessly down the dark streets of the human city. They had been traveling for a few days now, not that they couldn't have reached their designation a lot faster, but Ville had to see the sights. Ville was in love with misery, and what better way to enjoy it, then watching humans who seemed so willing to share it with each other? Ville's eyes were wide, and alert, as he took everything in. He watched the beggars on the streets, the prostitutes who tried to sell another piece of themselves to him, and the street urchins playing with their meager toys. He caught every little detail, admiring it the way an anthropologist would study an ancient society.
An unfamiliar noise caught Ville's attention, causing him to look ahead, just in time to see a strange contraption appear before his eyes. It seemed to be a piece of wood attached to wheels, but for what purpose, he could not tell.
Bringing his foot up, he stopped it, rocking his foot back and forth to see what it was.
"Let’s go." Linde hissed in Ville's ear, but Ville didn't listen to him. He was too busy trying to understand the purpose of the object under his foot.
"Someone is coming." Burton whispered, causing Ville to finally look away from the thing under his foot.
Footsteps echoed in the night and Ville realized something powerful was happening. As an outside observer, he had always watched humans interacting with one another, and that in itself, was taboo for someone like himself. Why should he care about them? Yet he did, and he had never had a chance to actually communicate with one. The thought filled him with excitement. So instead of slipping away like Burton and Linde, he let the young man approach him. He watched as he crouched down to retrieve the object under his boot.
Still, Ville did not move. The young man looked up and their eyes meet. Even if he had been aware of Burton tugging on his arm, he would have been unaware of it now. And for that moment, time stood still, and he lost himself in the eyes of the mortal in front of him.