(Soz for the frequent updates, but man, ever since I decided on the ending, I've been superrr pumped to write this, heh. Also, two things. 1.) I know basically NOTHING about how people in medieval times talked. I know the basics, like they didn't use contractions (ex, do not to don't) back then, which is why the speech is like that. Sorry bout that! And 2.) I've been making all of these Ryan's POV recently b/c I can lol. It's his POV for this chapter for a very, heh, special reason. I'll do Brendon's again soon.)

Brendon mounts the steed, but I hesitate.

"Are you sure it is safe?" I ask, my hands twitching, and he nods. "Quite sure. It is my own, and I have had it since I was a young boy."

"And we will not be followed?"

"As long as we go the way we are supposed to, we will be fine."

I nod, gulping, but my legs feel stuck, frozen. Brendon sighs, softly, sliding off the horse and standing next to me, his hands on my shoulders.

"I will not let anything hurt you. I promise."

I nod shakily, and then sigh. "Are you sure this is what you want? You will not be wealthy. No one will know you. You will be.. equal. A commoner. Like me."

Brendon nods without hesitation. "Yes. Yes, I want this. I want you. In fact, I have something for you." He says, and he pulls out a ring, with a ruby glistening in the middle. "I know that men cannot marry, and I am not foolish to ask for your hand. I do not deserve it. But I got you this. It is a family heirloom, and you will look much more beautiful than me wearing it. Traditionally, when woman are proposed to, a diamond ring is given. But rubies are infinitely more expensive, and more precious. And you are more precious to me than any wedding, any woman, or any crown." He says, grabbing my hand and slipping the ring on.

I stare at it for a moment. "Brendon, my darling, thank you. But I do not need any ring to symbolize our love, because I am already yours. And true love, like ours, is worth so much more than a diamond ring."

Brendon smiles, simply kissing my knuckles. "I agree. But still. It makes me happy, seeing you wear it.

And of course, the second he says THAT, I decide to never take it off.

"Now. Come. Let us ride." He says, pulling me onto the steed, and I wrap my arms around him, the horse beginning to gallop.

We don't know where we're going. But we have each other. And that is enough.
•
We are resting, somewhere in the woods. Riding all day has been exhausting, and Brendon, who has been doing all the work, is leaning against a tree, his eyelids drooping. My head is in his lap, and I smile up at him, blowing him a kiss.

It is beautiful out here. The sky is beginning to grow light, because we are traveling at night and concealing ourselves during the day. Crickets and birds are trilling, and the ground is dotted with wildflowers and clover.

"You know." Brendon says suddenly, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "The clover is beautiful. It reminds me of you. Delicate, but outshone by the colors of the flowers. But every bit as lovely."

I feel a blush creep up at my neck. "I am not beautiful."

Brendon looks astonished. "But you are! I cannot bear your beauty, sometimes."

I blink up at him. "Well." I say slowly. "The crickets remind me of you. Their song. You have an enchanting voice, you know."

"But you have never heard me sing."

I giggle softly. "Before we met officially, I heard you singing in the palace. I made a habit of creeping around, listening to your voice."

"George Ryan Ross!" He says playfully. "You are a stalker."

I swat at his hand. "Shh. I was fascinated, Cricket."

He smiles. "The second I saw you, I was gone, my Clover. Beyond fascinated."

"And now we have each other. And we are not Cricket the Prince and Clover the Servant. We are Cricket and Clover, equals."

"Equals. Lovers. Forever and ever." Brendon muses, and I nod sleepily.

"Rest now, my Clover." He whispers, ghosting his fingers across my cheekbone. I shake my head.

"No. I do not want to be without you, even if it is just for a little while."

"Then dream of me." He whispers. "And I promise you, I shall be here when you wake."

And before I can form a coherent argument, I am already asleep.

Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada.

2007.

My eyes flutter open, and I'm laying against Brendon, who is grinning dazedly, staring down at me.

"Dude!" He exclaims. "I'm never fuckin touching acid again! That was the most wild trip, ever. I had this weird ass dream about.. uh, actually, nevermind."

I blink. "Cricket?" Is all I say, and Brendon frowns. "What?"

"I. Um. Nothing." I say, coughing, because, well, it wasn't real.

I'm not Clover. He isn't Cricket. My Cricket.

He isn't my anything. Except for my best friend.

"Ry, I'm pretty sure you're still high. Heh, that rhymed. Anyway, Jon and Spence are already downstairs, talking about the new melody for that one song, uh, Nearly Wit-"

"Tell them to stop." I say, my voice strangely calm, although inside, I'm anything but.

"What?"

"Tell them to stop! I... I have a new album idea, get me a pen and paper."

Brendon cocks his head, but leans over me, handing me both.

"Here."

I immediately start writing, my hand scribbling out lyrics automatically, and I'm already working out the instrumentals in my head, planning, planning, planning. Brendon must think I'm insane.

"I have an idea, for a.. for a concept album." I say hurriedly, and Brendon frowns. "Okay. And that idea is...?"

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll have everything worked out. Go downstairs, work on the.. stuff with Spencer and Jon." I say, and Brendon nods slowly.

"Are you okay, Ryan?"

"No. Now go downstairs."

•
A few hours later, Brendon, Jon, and Spencer are sitting on the couch, eyeing me nervously.

"Okay." I say, steadying myself. I must look like a madman, my hair sticking up, my eyes wild.

"Here's what I have." I stutter, motioning to a poster board I found upstairs. I feel like a child showing a presentation to their peers, but this.. this is so much more.

This is my dreams. My subconscious. And the love I now feel towards a certain someone, love that wasn't present before I put that tablet on my tongue.

"Welcome to the sound of Cricket and Clover?" Jon reads, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! This. This is our new album, Jonny Boy! And I already have the songs planned out, but not fully written. Well, I've got two drafts, but I know exactly what we need to do! I have the shows planned out, and it's based around these two lovers, and it's going to be old fashioned, grand, perfect--"

"Ryan." Brendon says, his voice eerily calm. "Ryan, I know Pete and the label have been pressuring us for an album. But plagiarism isn't the answer."

I gape at him. "W-What?"

"This is stolen. I've... I've seen this somewhere. I swear, I have." He says, his voice wobbling, and he looks confused.

He couldn't have, though.

Because it was just a dream.

Spencer glances at me. "Is this true? Where have you seen it, B?"

Brendon shakes his head. "I don't know. But I have..." He stands, stumbling slightly and marching over to the poster/presentation/whatever.

"Let me see this.. this tracklist." He hisses, and I stiffen, but I let him glance at what I have written down, the titles and delicate drawings of flowers and silhouettes. No faces are drawn on them, because, well, then it'd become obvious what the album is focused around.

"It's True Love. Ruby Ring. Gwendolyn. Crickets In My Clothing. Canvas Of Wine. King and Queen. On My Deathbed. Servant Boy. N-Nearly Witches. Boy Of The Ball. Run Away With Me." He reads scornfully, scowling. "I know these. These words-they've been said before. Where did you get these, Ryan?" He says, and now he seems to be the madman. I raise an eyebrow, and try to keep my composure.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't plagiarize. These aren't real. And they're mine. Are you feeling alright, Brendon? You might want to lay down."

Brendon frowns at me, his face confused. Jon and Spencer sit behind him, staring at us both.

Slowly, Brendon leans in. "I don't know what game you're playing." He whispers in my ear, his breath hot and words soft, so only I can hear them. "But I will find out."

"I'm not playing anything." I say coolly, as he pulls away. "So you can try. But this album? It's happening. No matter what."

And with that, I gather my things, and storm out of the room.