╲⠀╲⠀╲ ╲
⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★
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may 1859
"Come'ead John! It'll be fine, honestly!"
"But I've never gone horse ridin'! There's stables back at the manor, but I was never allowed ta go near them.." John stared up at the majestic creature in apprehension, with a long grey mane and a swishing tail as it stared right back at the prince, large eyes blinking in the hopes for a treat.
"Ginny is fine. She's friendly towards me mates," Paul reassured with a hand around John's shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a twinkling smile as he reached to stroke the horse's neck, along the grey fur that was patterned with spots. "See here, Gin? This is John. He's a good guy. Dashingly handsome." That caused his lover to chuckle, eyes flashing with amusement.
The horse craned her head forward and nosed his hair with her snout, letting out a huff as she sniffed him, causing him to freeze in his spot, staring at the horse in a mixture of awe and anxiety, slowly reaching to pat her head as he got more comfortable with the animal. She was all dressed up in the equipment necessary for horse riding; bridle strapped to her head and saddle on her back, with reins alongside it.
Paul had been wanting to teach John how to ride a horse for a while, and finally he had convinced the uneasy boy to join him, promising he would do most of the work and he could just hold onto him and enjoy the ride. The spring sun was particularly hot that day, the ardent rays beating down on the nape of their necks, the long grass below dry and devoid of the usual greenery it usually possessed. Not as hot, of course, as it would be when summer rolled around; but still quite warm nonetheless. The endless fields stretched out before the two, standing in the vast paddocks where the horses would graze and walk around, before they would be ushered back into the stables in the night. John could see some paddocks to their right were filled with rows of growing corn and wheat, which would be ready to be harvested in September - those fell away to the rest of the garden, filled with various crops and plants, that stretched out to the immediate area at the back of the McCartney/Asher house. To their left were the stables a way off, and the tall wooden shed where they would keep specific ingredients to make up the feed for the animals. Next to that shed was the barn, filled with hay and straw and where the workhorses were kept; off in that direction was where the chicken coop and the pens for the pigs and sheep were situated.
"Okay, 'm ready. I think," John finally spoke, turning to Paul before tugging curiously on the riding waistcoat he was wearing. The two of them were wearing riding uniforms - tall, scuffed boots that ended at the knee, riding gloves, caps, and dark trousers that were tucked into the boots. The material was rough and discoloured, with the occasional stain, and slightly uncomfortable on John's pale skin; he was used to the smooth, silky, high-quality clothing he wore on a daily basis, even if it was suffocating in winter and sometimes too tight for his liking. Wearing this clothing reminded him faintly of the night when he went to the forest that surrounded the right of the house and bordered the farm, not even having realised he was doing it; Paul had found him absolutely drenched as it was storming, and lent him his clothes to wear while his own dried. And - he could see for the first time - the boy's attitude towards him had vastly transformed. He could still see the younger boy's face imprinted in his vision... illuminated in the light of the candles, face splashed orange and pretty doe eyes shining with a new light and warmth towards him.
He wouldn't forget that sight anytime soon.
"Gear! Okay, I'll help ye up." Paul grinned at him, bunny-like teeth flashing in the afternoon light before he held out cupped palms, ready to boost John up onto the back of the horse. John stared for a moment, teeth catching his bottom lip in apprehension before he stepped forward. He placed a foot tentatively on Paul's hands, but the boy held his position strongly, not reacting as John lifted his entire weight onto it, momentarily wobbling before he gripped onto the horse, lifting a leg over the saddle and settling into place.
"Oh god, we're gonna die, aren't we?" John muttered, clutching onto the edges of the saddle in terror as he stared at the ground below.
Paul stood up from his kneeling position, gaze sparking with amusement as he let a fond smile play on his lips.
"C'mon! You'll be fine. Ye got me to protect ya!"
With that, he swiftly hopped onto the horse's back in front of John, being an expert at the whole ordeal as he gathered the reins in his palms. Ginny huffed through her nostrils again, hooves stamping against the ground for a second before calming, awaiting her owner's orders.
"'sides, try not to show yer fear. Horses can sense it an' it will make Gin uneasy too." Paul quipped, patting the horse's neck comfortingly with a few soothing words sent her way.
"Right. Yeah. Not scared." John shook his head, trying to calm his racing heart.
"Now-" Paul spoke again, sliding his feet into the footrests attached to the saddle, turning his body halfway to look at John. "just hold on ta me. 'm gonna give her a little encouragin', an' she'll start off slow before we'll be runnin'." His demeanour was relaxed and at ease, but his eyes gave away concern embedded in the irises as he gazed at his lover. "Ye'll be okay?"
"Yeah! Yeah, 'm not scared. I'll be fine." John puffed out his chest with a smirk, trying to hide his fear with his usual mask of toughness, but of course - Paul saw right through it. He just chuckled, pressing a kiss to his lips briefly before turning back around.
"If ye say so. Let's go!" Without waiting for a reaction, Paul gently whacked Ginny's shoulder with a rein and nudged her side with his foot. "Giddy up, Gin!"
"Woah, woah, waIT-" John called out, eyes wide, but it was too late.
The horse sped off, picking up pace until they were speeding through the endless fields, hooves beating against the dry dirt and wind roaring past them, whipping their clothes against their bodies and causing their caps to nearly fly off. John immediately flung his arms around Paul's waist, clutching on for dear life as he buried his head in his shoulder, not having been ready for any of it.
"Shit! I wasn't ready!" His voice was carried off by the wind, but Paul still heard him, his raucous laughter whirling past him as they rode through the paddocks.
"Said ye weren't scared!" He teased, holding onto the reins as he sat straight-backed. The bumpiness of the ride seemingly didn't affect him whatsoever, gaze set on the ground ahead of them that gently sloped up to a wide hill, the long grass making way to its springy and light counterpart, due to it being the moorland.
"'m not! Shut up!" John called out, lifting his head. He stared out in front of them for a few seconds as they scaled the hillside, growing ever closer to the top; the wind caressed his pale, smooth skin, gliding past his face as they went - he eventually sat up straight, growing more comfortable with their surroundings and the feeling of Ginny sprinting along below them.
As they neared the top of the hill, Paul called out to the horse for her to slow down, pulling the reins back firmly before she halted in her footing, slowing until she stood still on the top of the hill. The sound of the distant trees whistling in the wind filled John's ears, and Paul's ever-so-slightly laboured breathing, and the swish of Ginny's tail as she stared out ahead, barely out of breath from the short sprint, powerful muscles flexing under her pelt.
John couldn't help but let an awe-filled "wow" escape his lips as he stared out at the landscape ahead of them. The hill stretched on for a few metres ahead of them, before slowly dropping away to more fields, dotted with the occasional tree standing alone within them; thick clusters of trees were kept around the edges of the dirt pathways that zigzagged through the paddocks, granting farmers easy access to their farms. In the distance, the prince could see sheep dotting some of the paddocks below, looking like smears of cloud against the creamy green grass - along with horses that galloped along, skirting past a cluster of rocks that were embedded in a hillside far off. The sun bathed everything in a warm, rich colour, only occasional wisps of cloud being spread out in the blue sky.
It was wildly different to the usual landscapes he was used to seeing - which were dark, moody cities or shiny, expensive rooms, buildings that were blurs of greys and blacks in his vision - and it was a refreshing change. Instead of the tang of concrete and smoke from factories filling his mouth, it was clear air mixed with an earthy, dirt-like smell that farms usually possessed. Sometimes the not-so-pleasant smell of fertiliser or unclean animals would accompany it, but it was easy to avoid.
"Like it, huh?" Paul's honey-laced voice pulled John from his reverie, and he turned to see he had leaned forward subconsciously while thinking, and his chin rested on Paul's shoulder. His ebony locks tickled John's cheek momentarily before he moved away, not without pressing an affectionate kiss to the shell of his lover's ear.
"It's so... different. But lovely. Refreshing." His voice was uncharacteristically quiet. The memories of yesterday, when he came home to Mimi angry with him once again, filling his mind.
Her eyes blazed. "You are not to interact with that George, Ringo, or the other one I saw you frolicking about with a while ago ever again. And that is final."
He would have to tell Paul eventually. He had snuck away earlier that day, beneath the midday sun, to have one last moment of freedom before he would be shut up in the manor for god knows how long, his every movement being watched to ensure he wouldn't run off again. Preparations for the wedding were speeding up, and he knew he would have to have a ball to celebrate the engagement too. But, this time - there was absolutely no way Paul could attend. George would have his duties as a waiter to deal with, so he wouldn't be attending as a guest, and therefore not able to bring a plus one. Ringo probably wouldn't be able to come; from what Mimi said the night before, it was probable that the woman would forbid his attending. So he would be alone. None of his friends would be there - he wouldn't be able to speak to George, since he would be caught up in his duties, and of course, John shouldn't be speaking to someone as low class as him, a mere worker and employee - unless he was ordering him to do something. It truly sucked.
The feel of Ginny kicking off again pulled him from his troubled thoughts again as she galloped off, speeding down the hillside into the warm fields below. He tried to shake it all off, keep an optimistic mind for now. He was with his beloved now, he should enjoy it as much as he could before it was over for a while, uncertain as to when they could see each other again.
"It's odd to think that farmers own so much land, almost as much as us - but still be much less wealthy than us." John spoke up with a half-chuckle, gazing at the sheep that they sped past, the creatures gazing curiously at them from where they grazed languidly.
"It really is. Goes to show," Paul paused, leaning closer against the horses' neck to keep balance, John keeping himself low as well as they rode. "the amount of land ye own doesn't really show how wealthy ye are."
"Yeah." John agreed softly. He definitely enjoyed this much better than his own home; though, he had to say he loved the manor's gardens, which were lush and rich, filled with all sorts of trees and plants which stretched on for miles and miles. I'll take Paul to them one day, he vowed to himself. Maybe when all this chaos is over.
The two rode on for a few minutes more, gliding through the paddocks in a comfortable silence. John had rested his head against Paul's back, arms wrapped around his stomach comfortably as Paul led the way, controlling his horse with ease and with a practiced hand. Eventually, Ginny began to grow tired, her chest heaving with each breath she took in, and Paul decided they should take a break and let them all rest - Paul was looking a bit out of breath, too, a healthy flush on his cheeks and his shoulders rising and falling with quickened breath. John felt exercised too, the effort of trying to keep balance and not fall off being actually harder than he thought it would be.
They both hopped off, John struggling a bit and ending up tripping into Paul's arms, both giggling at his expense before they let Ginny go, the horse trotting off to a particularly inviting patch of grass to graze at while they walked off, seeing a tree a few metres away they could rest under.
Paul collapsed with a dramatic sigh under the shady branches, resting his back against the trunk of the tree before pulling off his long riding boots, discarding them to the side as John sat down beside him. He pulled off his own shoes, taking off the gloves and cap too before he laid down, head resting on his lover's chest. Paul followed suite with his own gloves and cap.
"That was fun, innit?" Paul grinned breathlessly, reaching to run a hand through his windswept hair and wipe the sweat off his brow. John stared up at him with a languid smile, eyes half-lidded and sparkling with affection as he draped his arm over the younger's waist.
"Scary. But actually-" John paused, reaching to rest his other hand on Paul's collarbone, drawing lazy circles on the exposed skin. "it was really fun. I wanna ride horses more. Maybe I could pay the stable boys ta let me ride them and to keep quiet."
"Scandalous, Lennon." The boy smirked.
"It'll have me uncle George rollin' in his grave!" The prince laughed, imagining those words coming out of Mimi's stern mouth. Paul seemed to be able to imagine it too, and he giggled, grin overcoming his face.
"'Cause it's such a horrible thing to do. Horse ridin'. Yer disgracin' the family, Johnny."
He rolled his eyes. "Too late fer that."
They both fell silent for a moment. Even though John was joking about it, his words still held a certain amount of truth behind it. Mimi had told him more than once ; "you are disgrace to the royal family, John." She didn't seem to understand the weight of the words she spoke, and the damaging affect it had on John, slowly chipping away at his insecurities and his trust until he crumbled under the pressure. Paul knew that, too, and his eyes grew soft with sympathy, long, nimble fingers reaching to card through John's tousled auburn locks, patches of sunlight turning flecks of it to fire. His hair was painted with vermilion when under the light of the sun - it never failed to mesmerise Paul, pulling him further and further into the world of the mysterious, thought-filled person that was John Lennon.
"I'm here for you." Was all Paul said. And it was all John needed.
He felt his throat constrict with emotion, his feelings bubbling up his chest, ready to burst from his lips in three life-changing words. His revelation came rushing back to his mind, throwing him off for a moment as he remembered. I'm in love with James Paul McCartney. A trill of terror shot up his spine, but not without the warmth of excitement in his veins, though. How on earth could he possibly tell his true feelings to Paul? He was in love with him! He was absolutely sure of his feelings, seeming like everything around him would fall away until it was just him and Paul, alone against the world. He had no idea how it happened either, but he had a feeling he knew what was happening as they continued to spend time together, growing closer with each passing day. Their sharing of childhood trauma, common love of music and reading (even if Paul was still lacking in his reading skills from a shitty, almost non-existent education) bringing them close together, more than John thought they would. Everything was happening so fast; John's life changing so quickly in a matter of months and throwing him headlong into his affections. And of course, it begs the question - does Paul feel the same way?
He didn't know if there was a way for him to find out. He didn't want to confess his feelings right then and there, unknowing if Paul even felt that strongly about him as he did. What if Paul only liked John, nothing more? Would Paul ever love John like he did? Would Paul only like John romantically, but eventually his interest would fade and they would part ways?
His insecurities ran wild at these thoughts, all these new problems that he had no idea how to deal with plaguing his mind. He knew he couldn't hide from it forever. He had to face facts, deal with his feelings and how Paul would react. Paul knew him, and he wouldn't be able to keep a secret as big as this from his lover for very long.
John was headstrong and terribly stubborn - but so was Paul. It was a trait that they shared; the more John hid from it, the more Paul would question, and when both of their temperamental attitudes collided - it would turn ugly extremely quickly.
He wondered if, in another life - they both had the same personalities they did now, and if it ever caused their friendship to end abruptly and gruesomely. John wouldn't let it happen, though. He cared for Paul too much, and was determined to keep the boy in his life as much as he could.
"Are you alright, love?" His lover's gentle voice sounded near him, albeit tentative, as if trying to be careful to not scare John away.
"What?" John blinked, the thoughts scrambling away as he stared at Paul, face set in an unreadable expression. But his eyes reflected his true feelings - and they were clouded with confusion and fear, dark and troubled. "Oh, 'm fine, Macca. Don't ye worry about me."
"I will anyway," Paul raised an eyebrow. John knew he was right. "Tell me what's up?" He tilted his head, his expression of genuine concern and worry at how John was so quiet and brooding, causing guilt to flood the princes' veins. He felt horrible that he was keeping this from his boyfriend, but he knew it was for the better at that moment. He couldn't tell him. Not yet.
"Just a bit tired, y'know. With all that's goin' on.. the wedding preparation, what Mimi's been doing.." It wasn't entirely untrue. He was exhausted from all that was going on his life, and it seemed to want to add more and more weight to his shoulders - the newest addition being the realisation that he was in love with Paul.
"Yeah. I'm sorry about all that. I really hope ye'll be able to get through this. And Cynthia seems like a lovely girl, I'm glad yer marryin' her and not someone ye don't like." Paul continued to stroke his lover's hair, comforting him with his touch. His chest rose and fell with each slow breath, and John buried his head further into his clothes, breathing in his familiar, reassuring scent.
"Yes, but still..." he trailed off, voice thick with melancholy. "our marriage lacks somethin' that's considered pretty important in those situations. I don't love her how 'm 'sposed to."
"I know. But.. would ye rather a person who supports you and who ye are, and accepts the fact that yer with someone else - than someone who doesn't support it and probably would out ye to yer aunt?" The raven-haired boy sighed.
"Yer right." John nodded eventually, agreeing with Paul's words. He was glad he was marrying Cynthia, who understood his situation and supported him in full, and still someone he could be friends with in spite of their situation.
"Mm.." Paul lifted his head, looking to the sky above them. The sun was on the west side of the sky now, beginning to sink further and further til it reached the horizon. It was around 3'o clock when Paul checked his watch. "We'd better be gettin' back. 'Sposed to help out with the pigs today, their pen is beginning to fall apart - gotta rebuild it." He let John slide off his body, the prince standing up before holding out a hand to help the younger to his feet.
"Wait, before we go back -" John stopped him from moving any further, expression bitter and eyes dark as he stood there. Paul watched him with another bout of worry, wondering what was really going through his head and causing him to be brooding and so distant for the last two days.
"What's up?" Paul encouraged.
"I- Mimi's gonna keep me shut up in the manor.. I won't be able ta leave and visit ye. All the servants and guards an' that are gonna be on high alert to make sure I don't sneak off, and no one sneaks in ta see me." His eyes grew sad at the thought of parting with his friends, not able to see them for what could be weeks, possibly even months. "I don't want ye to get caught and have anythin' happen to you, I don't want ye to come try and meet me. It's too risky."
"John-" Paul stopped himself, and John could see the raw dismay and despondency in his eyes at not being able to see him. The prince reached and entwined their hands together, relishing the feeling of his lover's fingers wrapped around his as he gazed into his eyes. ".. do ye know how long?"
"Not really.. it could be days. Weeks..." Months. John kept the last bit to himself, but he could see Paul was thinking of it too. "I promise, 'm gonna try to get into Mimi's good books, see if she could let me off earlier than she intended, but I dunno." He paused, tongue darting over his lips as he searched for the right words. "She seemed about ready to lock me in prison to ensure I never see ye guys ever again."
Paul kept silent. He knew no words he could say would grant John access to continue seeing his friends (him, most of all), no matter what. And John knew that. All he had to do was lock eyes with him, knowing exactly how he was feeling, all words spoken through his forlorn expression, not needing to say anything.
He pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around his back tightly, resting his head in the crook of his neck; he breathed in his scent as much as he could, trying to commit it to memory, knowing he wouldn't get to feel it again for some time. They pulled away after what seemed like years, gazing into each other's eyes sadly. All Paul did was smile, eyes filled with sadness but warmth, soothing John as much as he could in that moment.
"Tell George and Ringo for me, will you?" He spoke so quietly that it could have been mistaken for the rustling of the trees, and Paul nodded.
"I promise."
✧✧✧✧✧
The backdoor of the manor shut softly behind John as he crept back into the palace, stepping lightly to avoid making noise as he made his way through the servant's corridors, avoiding the maid he passed's curious gaze. Eventually he emerged in the back hallway, shoes scuffing against the rich carpet. He knew he had to talk to Mimi at one point before he would be able to retire to his room, and he tried to gather as much courage as possible before going to find the woman. Moving through the hallway that eventually led to the front parlour area, past the wide, vast stairs that led to the second floor.
He saw the door to the greeting room open, the woman in question moving out of it, carrying some sort of cloth, stepping delicately across the marble floor to move to the lounge room. But, on her way there, she spotted her nephew, her expression changing to something unreadable.
"Ah, there you are, John. I have something to discuss with you." She placed her hands behind her back as he moved forward to meet her in the middle.
"Yes, Mimi?" His voice was hollow, staring unfeelingly at the woman who controlled half of his life, not in the mood to rebel - deciding it was better to just give in, and make himself agreeable to the queen.
"So, you know that we have to have a ball to celebrate the engagement. Family members have been sending letters in congratulations, and we must hold a gathering to properly celebrate it." She was formal and cold, as always. Her eyes stared down at him, guarded and completely unreadable, her body tense as she spoke.
"Yes, of course." He tried to poshen his accent to the best of his ability in his tired state, nodding and attempting to hold himself higher. "I assume you have a list of people you wish to invite?"
"Yes! I would like you to write the invitations for these, as well - they are mainly the same people who are to attend the wedding. Next week, Friday - I was thinking that would be the best time to host it. The public will be most pleased with this." Her eyes shone, and she reached out a hand to rest on her nephews shoulder. "As will I. And, you know.."
"What?" John raised an eyebrow warily, wondering where this was going.
"I am proud of you. You've taken on these responsibilities far better than I suspected you would, and you and Miss Powell seem to have a good connection. I'm sorry to be so harsh on you, John - but it is for your better good. It's your responsibility to meet expectations that have been set upon you, and you have been doing well so far, in spite of everything. You have to do this, John. We must keep the bloodline going. It's your duty, not only to the family, to me, to Miss Powell, to our employees - but to yourself." Her eyes grew soft for a moment. "I know you will do well. I am proud of you."
And with that, she promptly walked off, disappearing into the lounge room, leaving John standing there, confused and flooded with muddled emotions.
Even Cynthia's comforting smile, that she sent across the room from where she descended the stairs, having seen the ordeal; didn't give him much comfort. It let him know, though - someone was there for him. Who truly understood his struggles.
✧✧✧✧✧
author's note.
_______________
hi omg sorry gamers for the wait!
just been on like a hiatus sorta n
havent had any motivation to
write. but its kinda coming back to
me now and i think ill be back to
uploading regularly soon. hope u
enjoyed this chapter, there wnt be
much fluff in the next few ones bc
john will be away from paul :(((
anyroad ty all for reading !!!!! and
also holy fucking shit this is at 10k,
and almost 3.4k comments like WTF
BKJBFKBDJ what did i do to deserve
all this man hkfdbkvdfkb but legit
thank u all so so fucking much like
i dont even have words to describe
how grateful and happy i am that
this is receiving such good feedback
honestly ily all so much, every one
of ya <33333 ty for reading !!!
see yal later bye byeee