Disclaimer:I do not own Queer as Folk Any characters and situations and anything else pertaining to real life is referred here for non-profit purposes only No copyright infringement is intended. Although everyone here is now so Out of character, I hardly think this matters. The B/M nightmare continues in this chapter. Sorry folks. These things happen.

Chapter 7

THE THIRD WEEK

Part 2

The Wedding

Friday night...

Justin sat at his easel. He was completely naked. More and more over the last few days, he had shed the human trappings and customs until he rarely wore clothes at all anymore. He had become a human for Brian's sake and now that he had lost him, he had lost any desire to resemble a human at all. To Justin, he was just trapped in a strange suit now.

He put the last few touches on the magnum opus and sat back and looked at it with satisfaction. It was done. It was done and it was magnificent and perfect.

He got up and stood back from it, getting the full effect. It was even better. He wondered if Brian would like it. He wondered if he'd still be alive when Brian laid eyes on it. He hoped so...but he doubted it.

In the days of their second engagement, Brian and Michael had gotten even more nauseatingly romantic. They were still joined at the hip and Brian brought Michael fresh flowers every day. He toned down the sexual overtures since it was obvious he was not going to get anywhere in that department. However, he never missed an opportunity to kiss him or stroke his back lightly and more often than not, stray that hand down and give his butt a squeeze.

Secretly, Michael loved it, revelled in it because he remembered the price that he would pay after the wedding. There would be no touching, no love. But he always played coy and slapped Brian's hand away, chiding him but laughing at the same time, which just encouraged Brian all the more. And whenever they kissed or hugged in Justin's presence, Michael would often turn so Brian was turned away from Justin and look over his shoulder at Justin with a squinted, cruel look in his eyes. Justin would always stare back and shake his head derisively but inside, the whole display would always turn his stomach.

At first, a few of the staff, would ask Brian what had gone wrong and plead Justin's case for him. But every time this happened, Brian would rant and rave. How DARE they undermine his relationship with Michael? WHAT were they talking about? HOW DARE the show such disrespect? Any more talk like that and they'd be fired! And on and on. And so, after a few days, the servants cast sorrowful looks upon Justin when they passed him in the halls but said no more about it. Justin would nod his head gently in acknowledgement but otherwise could say no more about it.

Over the next few days, Justin was very busy with helping Brian with the wedding. He helped pick out Brian's suit. They chose a charcoal grey tuxedo with a maroon tie and a matching maroon cummerbund. His loafers were black and shiny and it would be Justin's duty to polish and buff them the night before the wedding.

Now, Justin looked over at the hated shoes sitting by the wall. It would be time soon.

Justin had picked out a red rose and placed it in Brian's buttonhole himself. Fully dressed, and the red rose at his breast, accenting the maroon tie perfectly, Brian looked devastating handsome. And looking at him, firmly gagged, frustrated, Justin was devastated all over again and he imagined the red of the rose was the blood that was blooming from his own heart. For in spite of all, the hook of love was still embedded deep in his heart. He knew he loved the Prince still and could deny him nothing. But in so doing, he understood now. He understood why the mer-folk had considered the hook of love to be the most dangerous and destructive one of all. For now, as well as the hook being embedded in his heart, because his love was unrequited, he could feel the hook pulling on it, tearing at it, causing him pain and bleeding. He knew he was doomed but he now knew he was also slowly dying.

He had other duties as well, helping with the invitations, silverware, writing a toast, and a few others that flashed by him in a blur. He performed them all faithfully and without complaint, although with one stipulation that he did not ask for, he just took. The days belonged to the wedding and Brian but at 9:00 PM, wherever he was, whatever he was doing, even if he was in the middle of a task, he would stop, drop everything and quit for the day. He would ignore all protestations, all indignations and leave, limp slowly and sadly away and lock himself away in his studio. There, he shed all his clothes and worked on his magnum opus until he was exhausted and fell onto his cot to sleep and do it all over again.

As for his own clothes, the day after he had flipped them the bird, he had emerged in soft slippers, light blue jeans, white tee shirt, and a blue plaid shirt over that. If they needed to go out he would wear the jean jacket over all. The dress of the singing contest. Brian never made the connection but Michael did and it always drove him wild. His eyes would flash with hate and anger but of course, outwardly he could say nothing. As for Justin, he did not do it out of vindictiveness, (well maybe a little) but otherwise, simply because it was the simplest, most casual and easiest to shed, outfit that he owned. And he no longer cared about what he looked like or what people thought about what he wore. As I said, he thought of himself as a merman again, not a human.

And now, it was done. The magnum opus was done and the wedding was tomorrow. And the dawn after the wedding, he would be sea foam and gone but hopefully not forgotten from their lives.

He looked over at the shoes again. He approached them sadly. Shoes. Three wee

ks ago, he had loved shoes, yearned for the feet that they covered, traded everything that was most valuable to him for the legs that they represented.

Now, he felt like a fool. He dropped to his knees and a few more tears squeezed out. It had all been for nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He polished the shoes faithfully and then buffed them to a high gloss. They looked like shoes made out of onyx stone. (Although, thankfully, they weighed a good deal lighter.) They were perfect.

Justin left the magnum opus in a safe place to dry. He checked the door to make sure it was locked tight and then went to his cot and lay there dispassionately. His eyes drank in his masterpiece. They were wide and dry until sleep at last overtook him. He cried no more tears that night. He had no more to shed.

Saturday morning...

The day of the wedding dawned cool and clear. The sky was sunny and blue and it warmed up quickly. It promised to be a beautiful day for a wedding.

Justin opened his eyes to the morning light and looked upon the rising sun for the last time. He went over to the huge windows and stood there naked and erect with morning wood. He looked at the ocean for a long time. He felt a yearning, a pull to return, the likes of which he had not felt since he had become a human. He missed his home with a violent intensity. He stood there with his eyes closed, absorbing the sunlight and morning heat until he was one with the sun, one with the light. Until he was light.

He felt his stiffie throb and remembered Brian going down on him, teaching him the glory that was physical love. He remembered the explosion of ultimate pleasure that made him a man when he went to sleep and again when he woke up. He throbbed again and knew that was no dream. THAT...At least that had been real. And therefore the rest of it, the motorcycle rides, Debbie's Diner, the contests, the art shows, the dinners, the Remington Twins, Gus, Brian's bread, the pipes, the coat and slippers, morning coffee and oatmeal, evening dinner, painting during the day, meeting him at his office door at night, the sipping kisses of hello, the passion kiss of being bent over backward in a deep dip and being met with the golden coat, being carried up the stairs. Hobbs trying to kill him and Brian saving him....it had all happened...it was real, it was true as his love...Brian might not remember, but he would...always.

Michael awoke with mixed feelings. He padded over to the windows and pulled the heavy drapes and squinted against the morning light. He was also nude and stiff and horny as hell. And tonight, and at least for tonight that little problem would be remedied. He was about as crazy as a weasel in heat with all the touching and loving that Brian had been doing over the last week and it was all Michael could do not to rip all his tailor made clothes off and jump his bones where he stood, wherever he was standing. But he knew he had to wait. He was so close. So close to getting revenge of that little muted freak who had stolen everything from him in the first place, so close to the crown, so close to the riches and power that he so...well, richly deserved. Michael chuckled in derision of his rival and triumph of his win.

Then the laughter died in his throat as he remembered the downside. Brian would remember. There would be no more laughter, love, or kisses, no more flowers or presents. There would be power but no sex and yet Brian would never let him go. It was a terrible price to pay but Michael had paid it and there was no going back.

Brian awoke and he was the only one who was truly happy. He was getting everything that he wanted and he couldn't wait to get it. Kingship, his one and only, a night of incredible sex (well it damn well better be after his long wait) and then night after night after night of more. Not to mention that dewy eyed, delicious morsel running around the castle painting those incredible erotic images. Brian especially loved the one hanging in his office of a winged motorcycle man. It reminded him of a vivid dream he'd had a few weeks back. Or had it been a couple of months? Brian considered starting something up with him on the side after the wedding. Why not? After all, he'd be married, not dead. And besides, Michael seemed a lot more concerned with running things than fooling around. He bet he wouldn't even notice.

And if not the twink artist, then perhaps another burly sailor. It was about time he rebuilt his navy. Past time. Maybe start up an army too. Start to expand his kingdom a bit. Yeah. Maybe stage a takeover and absorb Koffikstan. Brian had no idea why, but he had received several letters from the ambassador from there and they sounded almost...chummy. Brian's lip curled in a sneer. As if! Yes indeed, an army was first on the agenda. An army of strong men and big cocks that needed a maximum amount of pleasure. And a minimum of bullshit.

Whistling softly and smiling smugly in satisfaction, Brian went to shower and then dress.

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Later, the wedding party made its way out of the castle solemnly and approached the cars that would take them to the wedding ship.

They had decided to get married at sea. They had had a new ship quickly built, a little smaller but better than the first one and they named it NEW BABYLON.

The procession reached the cars. They were a parade of golden Miatas. Brian and Michael got into the first one. Brian looked as devastatingly handsome in his charcoal suit and glossy black shoes. The red flower was at his breast. Justin had made sure everything was perfect. Michael looked handsome too in a black tux and bowtie but his constant slight and smug smile spoiled the picture.

Justin and his interpreter came next. Justin looked in distaste at the too-shiny two seater, which meant he was going to have to be separated from his masterpiece until they got to the ship. The magnum opus had the next car along with a driver. Through the interpreter, Justin strenuously warned the man to be careful with it and under NO circumstances was he to peek under the heavy black veil. The picture was for the King's eyes only. Then he got into the front seat of the second Golden Miata and the interpreter drove off. Justin wished he were riding on a black as sin motorcycle behind a sexy as sin Prince instead.

The masterpiece came next and then Debbie and Carl. Even though things were still strained (and that was putting it lightly) Michael couldn't get out of inviting them to his wedding. Not doing so would have raised too many questions with Brian and Michael didn't want Brian asking any question or rising out of the spellbound state he was in to ask them. There was too much at stake now. And so his parents had to come.

After them came many of the rich and elite of Spitzenburghur to see their Princes married and coronated. But only the very best of the best, you understand. Well, them and of course the Remington Twins who bought their way into absolutely everywhere. For the occasion, the Twins wore matching black suits that could have been respectful wedding attire or mourning clothes. They wore their correct bracelets for Justin's sake who they could see didn't need any more grief today.

When Justin got to the ship, he became very busy with finding a place to stash the masterpiece in a place that would be inconspicuous so that the public would not get overly curious about it. When that was done, he went to Brian's chamber to be available for any of his wants and needs and to otherwise look upon his beloved who no longer recognized him.

He gave his suit one last shake to unsmooth the flattened appearance from the ride in the car. He brushed his hair until it shone. He showed Brian that he had his ring in his pocket. At last, Brian was ready. He was perfect. Well, Justin thought that already, but now he was extra, completely, really perfect.

"Thanks for doing this Justin. You really were the best choice for a best man," Brian said cluelessly, "You've gone above and beyond the call of duty. You've taken such good care of me. Be sure to ask me when you find your special guy and fall in love and want to get married, OK?

Justin looked deep into his eyes, willing him to look back, really look, and commune with him the way he did before, to read his thought to see that his heart was on his sleeve. But Brian just looked back with a glazed, unfocused expression. Justin was alarmed to see that his eyes were looking off in slightly different directions. So finally he just sighed and nodded.

Meanwhile, the guests had all boarded and the ship had set sail. The guests mingled around and admired the cake and enjoyed a pre-reception party and then sat down where chairs had been set up on deck with the altar being by the wheel near the bow of the ship.

And then, the time had come. Brian appeared from a door on the right and Michael from a door to the left. They each walked up past the guests along the side of the ship, Michael on the port side, Brian starboard. Justin and a few other groomsmen followed him. Michael's groomsmen followed him. They turned smartly and then met in the middle and now at the head of the aisle.

They marched down the aisle. Keeping a respectful distance, Justin and the other groomsmen followed them and then took their places on either side of them. They all stood at the altar where the captain of the ship was waiting for them.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two men in holy..."

Well, I've sure you know the rest of the details of all that. But do you know the pain of watching a marriage of someone you don't like? Perhaps you are there for the groom but hate the bride or vice versa. Now, have you ever been to a wedding where you are watching your best friend whom you are in love with marry another? Now, have you ever been the "best friend" made best man/maid of honor at such a wedding? Have you felt that anguish, do you know that gut wrenching pain of watching your beloved promise him or herself to another?

Justin felt all this pain and more as he watched his beloved and one chance at life pledge his life and love to another right in front of him. He was brave. He stood ramrod straight as Michael gave his vows. He stood wide and dry eyed as Brian gave his vows to Michael. He handed over the rings at the right time. He watched impassively but felt a kind of surreal horror as Brian put the ring onto Michael's finger.

"By the power vested in me, as Captain of the New Babylon, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your husband."

Justin watched them seal it with a kiss and in so doing, seal his fate forever. He looked over and saw the sun low in the sky by this time. He treasured the sight for he knew he would never see the sun again.

Then a bishop got up from where he was sitting in the front row and pronounced a blessing upon the occasion and then in a short ceremony, pronounced them crowned Kings of Liberty Kingdom. Robes were placed upon their shoulders, sceptres in their hands and crowns on their heads and they sat of simple but elegant thrones that had been set up at the head of the ship near the altar area.

Brian thanked them all for joining them and pronounced the ceremonies over. Everyone got up and the chairs were cleared away and the reception party began. The liquor flowed, dinner was served and the space where they had all sat now became the dance floor. Brian and Michael presided of all with gentle, regal smiles from their thrones.

Sooner, rather than later, Justin signalled for attention and gave his short blessing and toast. He signed and through his interpreter said, "Brian...Michael, my blessing to you on this happy day. The long life that I have given away, may you now enjoy. Rule fairly, wisely, and with compassion, especially on the poor for they shall be with you always. For my wedding gift, I give you this, my masterpiece, my life's greatest work. My magnum opus." Here it was brought out. "It was the first thing I started when I arrived and was given the fantastic studio and it was the last thing I finished. Brian...Michael, I hope you enjoy it for it will be the last thing I will ever paint again."

Gasps and murmurs of surprise and disappointment swept through the crowd and even Brian and Michael exchanged glances at his surprising words. When they had died down, he continued:

"Because of the personal nature of the painting, I have a further stipulation that only the two Kings are allowed to see it and only after they make love for the first time. At that time, if they wish they may show it off to others but until then I request that it remain veiled and no-one else look at it. Please...everyone, this is important to me. Please honor my request. Please...honor it as if it were...my last request. Thank you."

Everyone bowed in a slight and solemn way to show that they would. Brian had the painting on its easel moved to a more secure location. The party went on.

And at last Justin was free. His duties were done and he melted into the crowd and moved slowly on heavy feet to the back of the ship. The Remington Twins followed him.

When he had reached the railing of the stern, the very rear of the ship, Justin finally turned to them. The Twins were no fools. They did not approve of this wedding any more than Justin did. Brian might not remember their visits but of course they did and they remembered how in love Brian and Justin were. They knew this thing with Michael was awfully fishy but there was nothing they could do about it.

Justin let himself be enfolded in a huge double hug and he positioned it so that the Twins were between him and the front of the ship, so that he was completely hidden.

He fingered Fred's blue bracelet and looked beseechingly into the man's eyes. "Yes. It's me, Fred," Fred said seriously.

He fingered Red's ruby bracelet and looked askance at the man. "Yes, it's me, Red," Red said.

Justin buried his face between them and at last let the tears come. He cried and cried and nearly collapsed with the strain of holding himself in control all this time The Remington Twins wrapped their arms around him in a hedge of protection and held him up as he sobbed of a broken heart and a destroyed spirit for what seemed like ages and ages.

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About an hour later, a good time for Justin to have a good cry and then recover, Fred was looking daggers at Michael, who remained oblivious. Then all of a sudden, a slow, wide, diabolical smile spread over his face.

"You know Red," he said, "I believe I hear thunder."

"Thunder? But it's perfectly sunny out. Or at least will be for another hour or so."

"Maybe so. But listen, I still think I hear some thunder." He waggled his eyebrows and looked deep into his twin's eyes. For a moment they communed silently in only the way twins do at times.

Justin looked back and forth between them in confusion.

Then Red's face lit up. "Ohhhhh! Thunder! Yes!! I see! I do hear it!" An identical diabolical smile lit up his face. "Let's go steal it!"

And then Justin realized what they wanted to do, and she grabbed at their fleshy palms in horror. But the two men pulled their hands away from Justin as if they didn't even feel him and perhaps they didn't. Justin grabbed a coattail each and tried to pull them back but he only ended up sliding along the floor for a few feet before finally letting go. And then he just shut his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable of what was to come.

The Remington Twins strode out into the midst of the party. People ran to get out of the way or got shoved aside. The Remington Twins could be a fearsome force of nature in themselves if they wanted to be.

After causing a small ruckus and stampede, (at least one man got trampled) they picked up some champagne flutes and forks and dinged delicately for attention.

"We would also like to make a toast. To one who is has come into our lives such a short time ago and yet has become such an important part of those lives that we can scarcely imagine him out of them any longer. To someone who is kind, loyal, brave and astounded us all with his natural abilities and supernatural resourcefulness. To one who has known love and cherishing...and heartbreak and denial." Here the Twins looked very hard at Brian and Michael, each twin staring daggers at a King. Brian of course, stared back cluelessly, and a little owlishly (my this champagne was good stuff) but Michael gave a visible recoil. "To one who has added so much color and beauty into our lives with his art and very presence... to the court artist, Justin Sunshine!"

They raised their glasses and drank deeply and clapped heartily, starting a chain reaction that spread across the entire ship. They looked over at Michael and arched their eyebrows at him twice and enjoyed the lovely shade of plum he had become.

In consternation, Justin raised his hands and lowered them, trying to get them to stop. But they wouldn't stop. They seemed to get louder. He heard: "Aww, he's bashful!" and, "He's so humble!" and, "Oh, didn't you just love the one with the motorcycle?" and "What do you think he meant, he'll never paint again? Do you think we could hire him out?" Finally, he bowed slightly in acknowledgement and held his hands out for peace again. Finally, they started to settle down.

Michael looked ready to explode. However before he could do anything, Fred continued, "And of course, all the best to the new couple. Long life and happiness to you both. And as new Kings, I'm sure you'll get everything you so richly desire...and deserve!"

"Yes, here's to getting exactly what you deserve!" finished Red, in that strange distorting way he often tried to parrot Fred but got things mixed up. However, the knowing smirk he gave Michael made him sure this was no ordinary mixup.

The party went back to normal. And as quickly as they had disrupted the party and smashed their way through the people, they now magically melted back into the crowd and disappeared toward the back of the ship much in the same way an elephant would back away and be lost in the tall, wild grasses of the Savannah.

The Remingtons made their way back to Justin who had mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was mortified and angry that they had done something so outrageous at a wedding. He shook a finger at them as if they were naughty schoolboys but they bore down on him uncaring and enfolded him once more into their embrace. And as soon as they did, his anger melted away like a snowball in Hell and his body shook once more with silent sobs and laughter. He couldn't decide between the pleasure and pain. He wasn't aware it was possible to love anyone more than Brian. Perhaps it wasn't possible, but at that moment, he loved the Twins almost as much.

As for the two men, they spent the rest of the party with their arms around Justin in various comforting poses. They often shared secret furious stare downs with Michael as they did so, many of which they often won. They figured they would probably pay for it later but they didn't care. They had each other, they were larger than life, and they were fabulously wealthy. They were the Fabulous Remington Twins! And even though it was inconsequential, perhaps a little petty, a little stupid, they didn't care. In that small way, the fabulous Remington Twins had taken their revenge!

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Justin stood at the railing and watched his last sunset. Usually, the sky would have been tinged with the oranges and reds that he had grown to love to dearly and use copiously in his art but this sunset...this sunset was pure gold. The sun touched down a molten golden ball and spread a golden light across the entire western sky that lasted a long time after the sun had kissed the world goodbye. And then at last it was dark.

With the departure of the sun, the newlyweds also decided to take their leave. They told everyone that everyone would be assigned a cabin and would be shown below whenever they wished. They were free to party for as long as they wanted but as for them they were calling it a night.

Brian and Michael stood and their thrones were removed and it was revealed that the wall against they had been sitting was also a door that led to a large cabin underneath the bridge. It was small, as cabins mostly are on ships but this one was at least large enough to hold a double bed with a little wiggle room.

Justin signalled his interpreter and together they carried the magnum opus in behind the new Kings and set it up leaning against the wall across from the bed. Justin adjusted and smoothed the veil one last time and then got out of there. He, himself, shut the doors and enclosed them inside. For one moment, his eyes met Brian's and for a split moment he could have sworn they looked at troubled as his. And then it was over and the doors were shut and it was over and done. Brian was gone. He leaned his forehead against the outside of the doors and whispered in a voice now stolen: "Good-bye."

He never knew on the other side of the door, Brian was reaching out in a trance-like state and touching the door with his palm. He opened his mouth and tried to speak but nothing would come out. Could come out. And then the spell was broken.

"Brian!? What are you doing over there?"

Brian started and the room seemed to lurch. But then everything seemed all right and he smiled.

"Sorry, Michael, I felt the ship lurch a bit. I guess I had a bit of seasickness. But I'm all right now."

"That's good. Because I want you feeling good..." He advanced. "...Now that I have you...all...to...myself!" Michael pounced.

Brian's eyes widened. He dodged. There was an audible thud as Michael hit the door.

Brian hopped onto the bed and put his crown aside. "Uh...Michael? Are you all right? Didn't you maybe want to talk a bit first?" Brian didn't understand it. He NEVER wanted to talk first...or after for that matter but for some reason he was as nervous as a cat in room full of rocking chairs. Besides, Michael was into all that touchy-feely crap. At least he thought he was.

Michael rose up at the end of the bed and Brian was almost, dare he say it, a little scared. He looked downright feral. "No Brian!" he said in a growling kind of voice, "I've been waiting and waiting for this moment for a long time and I do not want to...talk." He fixed Brian with a manic stare.

"What, then?" Brian asked. His voice seemed to be coming from a long way off. He stared back at Michael and was startled that he could not look away. He was further surprised when this phenomena was starting to turn him on a little.

"This!" Michael yelled and launched himself at Brian and ripped that delectable suit off of him. He ripped his white shirt apart and sent buttons pinging in every direction. He kissed Brian deeply and Brian felt his body respond. He kissed back.

"Oh, God, I've been wanting to do this ever since last week!" Michael gasped out finally.

"Then why on earth didn't you? I feel like I've been wanting to fuck you since forever!" Brian gasped back.

"Because, I've been wanting you like this...all suited up, perfect and mine! Mine, forever, even more! And now you are! But it's been killing me! And now I can't wait anymore!"

Brian framed Michael's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. "Then don't!" he whispered.

Michael gave a hitch in his breath and made a strangled noise. He had trouble breathing. And then he went a little crazy trying to rip the rest of Brian's clothes off. At the same time, Brian went a little crazy ripping Michael's clothes off. They rolled around. They fought. They wrestled. But of course, Brian wound up on top...in the end.

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Meanwhile, Justin had gone back to the railing of the stern and drunk in the sight of the golden light of the sunset that lingered on afterward. Wine flowed around him but he did not drink, music continued to play and people swirled around but he did not dance. The only one he wanted to dance with had given his body to another and now danced to a primal beat that Justin would never know. Time itself slipped away second by precious second and Justin savoured every one. Time and tide flowed around him as he looked out upon the waves from whence he came and where he would return.

Eventually, most of the guests tired out and made their way below to sleep. Even the Remington Twins left to dance a little and then left, saying good night to Justin first. Justin bowed to each one solemnly. He shook hands with each one and looked deep into their eyes, wishing with all his heart he could tell them how much they had come to mean to him, how much he loved them, but that this was the end. And he felt that they did understand in some primal way for they both hugged him fiercely one last time before retiring to bed.

Eventually it grew very late. A beautiful white moon rose. Not a full moon like the one of the dance contest but beautiful nevertheless. It shone a silver path along the water. It was the most beautiful thing Justin had ever seen. It made his hooked heart swell with a beautiful sadness and it flowed over with a great melancholy and with blood that was sapping his lifeforce.

The dance contest. Justin closed his eyes and turned a few times by himself remembering and for a few seconds he was back there again, wearing Gus' coat, in Brian's arms, in the diamond sky, with the full moon presiding over all. He was young, he was in love, he was loved and it was going to last forever. Justin squished his eyes shut and tried to hold onto that memory. It was going to last forever. It was. He had no idea what had happened that morning at breakfast to change everything but he knew if it hadn't, this would be his...

NO! He wouldn't think of that! Not now! He opened his eyes, stared at the moon and held onto the memory as best he could. He turned. He turned.

"Justin! JUSTIN! Is that you? Down here!"

Justin froze and looked over the side. He couldn't believe it. It was Emmett. It was Emmett at last but it was too late. All was lost.

"Justin! Justin! Come down and talk to us! We have news!"

Justin looked around surreptitiously. There wasn't anybody left except a few slow dancers who were all wrapped up in themselves and a helmsman driving the ship facing away toward the front.

Silently, Justin slipped over the side and climbed down the anchor chain and sat on the anchor. It was then that he saw that Emmett was not alone. Three more heads broke the surface. It was Ted, Blake, and Cody.

And then Justin looked again, really looked and his eyes bugged out in horror. He covered his mouth and shook his head as his heart overflowed with grief anew.

His brothers had been ruined, deformed. Blake's teeth, his beautiful smile that could charm oysters into opening up and giving him their treasures willingly, were gone. His teeth had been ripped out or simply removed and all that was left was a gummy grin.

Cody's, once long and beautiful hair was cut into a buzzed, super short, military style cut. When Cody saw Justin looking at his hair, he swept a regretful hand over it and confirmed, "Yes, it's been enchanted to never grow back. It is my gift to you, Justin, to save your life."

"Oh, Justin, I'm sorry I couldn't help you with the love spell," Emmett said in a weird, serious tone that Justin had never heard him use. "We contacted the Sea Witch as soon as possible after I received your call but she was adamant about that. And it took everything we had to convince her to help us at all. We all had to give her something. Well, except me, that is. I don't feel anything different."

"We ALL gave something, Emmett,' said Cody, who took over again. "Well, you can see what happened to Blake and me. She took Ted's voice, (Ted waved) and she took...Emmett's...swishiness."

"Oh, that's ridiculous," said Emmett is this tight assed voice Justin had never heard. Looking harder, he noticed that all his chains and leis were gone and in their place he wore a single, muddy brown, seaweed tie. "Swishiness! The very idea!"

"Uh huh. Say Emmett, what do you want to do with your life?" Cody asked conversationally. The others snickered behind his back. Apparently, they'd asked him this before, to their amusement.

"Oh well, I dunno. Politics sounds good. Or I'm pretty good with numbers. I could always go out for investment banking. Or an accountant." Emmett said seriously.

NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

Justin held his head in horror. It was true. The swishy Emmett, the creative, acrobatic, beautiful brother he had known and loved had been altered into this...this automaton! And Ted! That BITCH had taken his voice as well and now he would never sing again. All five of them had had what was special about them stolen away and ruined by HER! Justin felt an unspeakable rage build inside him.

He reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out the ever ready pad of paper. He wrote quickly: What did yu geet in riturn?

He threw down the paper and Cody caught it. He pulled his arm out of the water and held up a knife with a jewelled hilt. He threw it at the ship. It flipped through the air before burying itself with a CHUNK!...partway into the side of the ship near the anchor where Justin could reach it. He did so and pulled it out of the ship.

"Like we said, the Witch would not budge about the wedding. But we did get her to agree to save your life! Use this knife to kill Prince Brian and let some of his blood spill from the knife onto your legs. They will turn back into a tail and you can come home to us! You will still be mute but at least you will be alive! Come back to us, Justin, come home! Mother misses you terribly. We all do. And we have given everything to make this happen! Don't let our sacrifice be in vain, especially to one who has cast you aside and given himself to another!" Cody said.

"Yes, kill him! Kill him Justin and come home Justin! Come home! Come home!" the three who could talk entreated and then swam away, "We'll be waiting! Kill him and come with us! We'll be waiting!" Ted waved enthusiastically before turning and joining his brothers. And then there were flipping of tails and they were gone.

Justin climbed back up the chain like a ladder and hoisted himself up over the railing. He rested a bit and looked at the ruby and diamond encrusted knife he had been given. He HATED the witch for what she had done to him to all of them and he wished he could kill her instead. But if wishes were fishes, Justin figured the sea would be empty by now with all the wishing he had been doing. He had to kill Brian, his true love, his reason for living, instead. But then he thought over Cody's words and realized he was right. Brian had given himself to another and was lost to him forever. In a way, he was the reason he was in this mess.

Holding onto that bit of twisted logic as a last lifeline, Justin made up his mind. He looked around carefully. The deck was deserted. The last few couples had all gone to bed while he was talking with his brothers. There was someone driving the ship but he was facing the front.

Justin stole his way forward as silent as a wraith and reached the door to the bridal chamber. He took a few deep breaths and gathered his courage. He held onto every bit of anger and hate he was feeling that was supposed to be toward the sea witch and transferred it to Brian. How DARE he give up on them!? How DARE he pick Michael!? This should be HIS wedding! Etc...etc. A small, logical, part of him knew that this reasoning was wrong but he squashed it down deep inside.

He put his hand on the knob.

He had been acting like a mopey little queer with no hope or help to change his fate. Well, he was tired of it! He picked up the knife and tested its weight. This gave him hope! This gave him power! The power to change his fate and if not live a full life, at least survive.

Slowly, as quietly as he could, he turned the knob. He waited a minute and then inch by slow inch, opened the door.

How DARE Michael get everything! How DARE, he treat him so shamefully from the very first moment Justin had stepped into the castle, like he was stupid or retarded as well as just silent. How DARE he steal everything back and RUIN his happiness at the last second? How DARE he become king instead of him. Now it would be his turn to steal from him, to cut Brian out of his life forever, as he had done to him!

After what seemed like ages the door was open wide enough. Justin slipped inside and shut the door.

Phew! He was halfway there! Slowly, carefully, silently, Justin crept his way around the bed to Brian's side of the bed.

The King of Liberty Kingdom lay on his back in sweet repose. He slept deeply and did not seem to hear Justin approach.

In fact, Brian did not hear him. After they had made love, culminating in the most explosive and intense orgasms that the two men had ever had, Brian had barely been able to pull out before a strange heaviness overcame him and he fell into a deep, deep sleep.

Michael had followed the Witch's advice and savoured every minute and his intense (and last) orgasm. Afterward, he turned and cuddled up to Brian, now ready to have a chat and so was very disappointed when Brian had dropped off into a slumber from which Michael could not wake him. So finally, he just rolled over and fell asleep himself.

Now, Justin approached the side of the bed. He gathered his courage, his hate, his anger and looked down upon the image of all his trouble and woe. He thought of his brothers, deformed, ruined who were counting on him.

He could do this. He would do this. He wasn't some faggy little queer who had no balls. He could do this.

Slowly, he grasped the jewelled hilt in both hands and took a deep breath. He could do this. He was going to do this.

Carefully he aimed for the center of Brian's chest.

Slowly, he raised the knife up high.

TBC