Ficathon 2010
This is my entry for 2010's Ficathon, Silversong. It's cute and kitshy. I know the ending's a bit rushed, and feed back would be appreciated. Enjoy!
While known to traipse into the forest on flower picking ventures, she went missing for several days, with no word or sighting. The king’s men searched for her, but to no avail. Distraught, the king sent out messengers to the neighboring kingdoms, asking if others knew anything of his missing daughter. No responses returned. A dark gloom settled over the land, where the effervescent light of Princess Etoile’s sparkling face once was.
Rumors spread throughout the kingdom. The baker told his wife that the princess was murdered. The blacksmith and the cobbler both claimed she was transformed into a troll; while still others whispered amongst themselves that she was stolen by the fair folk. Yet no one knew the truth. All that was truly known was that Etoile was missing. The buzz of talk and tales spread through the kingdom like wildfire. Eventually the long and arduous tale of the grief stricken princess who, spurned by a lover, fled the castle and fell into a fairy circle where she was first turned into a deer by the angry fair folk, then murdered by a hunter, landed in the king’s court as told by a traveling (albeit somewhat daft) bard. The court sat in a horrified silence for many long moments until the hapless bard, seeing his performance was not well received, started to back slowly from the room. The King gave the slightest motion, and the bard was gripped on either side under the arms by two palace guards. He scowled as his lute clattered to the ground and left an off key twang echoing throughout the large space.
The king stood slowly and stepped off the dais. “Where did you hear of this tale?” The bard shifted slightly, swinging his long copper curls over his shoulder as the King advanced on him.
“I learned of it on my travels, Milord.” His green eyes shimmered with a hint of mischief. “Far and wide are songs and tales of a princess who has gone astray. I did not mean to offend, Milord. One does not often know which tales are unsuitable for an audience.”
“What else have you heard? Is there news of a mysterious girl?”
The bard cocked his head to the side in thought. “No, Milord. I have not heard of a girl arriving anywhere, only the songs and tales of one missing.” The king raised his arm in frustration and uttered a “Bah!” The guards hefted the bard from his place and escorted him from the hall.
Once outside in the sunlight, Alaric wrested his arms from the guards and dusted off his sleeves. “That is quite enough, thank you!” he said. The larger of the two guards shoved him from behind, a sign he should be on his way. Alaric turned and eyed the two guards testily. “My lute, if you please. I won’t be leaving without it. I assume a servant would have fetched it?”
“No. I did.” A tall blonde girl emerged from the darkness of the castle, the polished instrument in hand. She gave a little nod and the guards slunk back into the palace.
“Thank you, chérie,” the bard said as he reached for his lute. The girl clutched it tighter.
“I think you know more than you are letting on.” She narrowed her blue eyes at him. “You know where the princess is, don’t you?”
The bard huffed. “Now why would I lie to a king? My Lute.” He thrust his hand out and cupped his fingers twice.
“Tell me what you know.” The girl raised her chin defiantly. Alaric scowled as he looked her over. She looked well born, dressed in a golden gown, graceful yet powerful, similar to a lioness. Even still, she was no match for the fairy-born. He changed tactics quickly.
“Fine, chérie, I’ll tell you what I know. In exchange, you will give me my lute and we shall part ways. Agreed?”
“I want what information you have, first,” she said, and tightened her grip on the rose colored wood of the lute’s neck.
“Your little ingénue found her way into an enchantment, indeed. You’ll not likely recognize her now. Now, if you please my lute?”
“I believe that is quite enough,” a third voice said from behind. “Lady Aurelie, have you not been taught to avoid making deals with the fae?”
“Sir Thierry!” The girl’s cheeks tinted with a deep shade of pink and she put the lute behind her thin frame. The knight smirked and brushed a strand of his platinum blonde hair behind his ear. “I did not realize…” she trailed off as she took a fuller look at the
bard. He looked normal enough, except for the smaller stature, the very slight point at the tips of his ears and the wild, mischievous look in his green eyes. Aurelie gasped as the realization dawned on her.
Sick of the drawn out process, Alaric snarled. “No more delays! Give me the lute!” he exclaimed making a slight jump towards the girl, but was pulled back by the man who had interrupted. “Let go of me!” the bard exclaimed.
“I will do no such thing. Aside from you being unwanted here, you are committing treason to the crown! Withholding information about the princess is intolerable.” The guard took hold of the bard and started leading him back into the castle. He turned back to the girl standing in the courtyard, who was looking rather ashamed. “Lady Aurelie, come with me.”
* * *
Deep in the woods, a carriage trundled along a rutted path. The horses pulling it looked worn; covered with a fine sheen of sweat. The carriage did not look much better, having patches covering holes in its sides and faded fabric covering the windows. Still, it was painted a bright, cheery red with jewel toned accents. Inside, a clan of travel sore gypsies huddled between boxes of wares for sale and their sundry collection of possessions; iron cook ware, mismatched clothing of exotic fabrics and assorted trinkets from across the lands. As the night drew closer, the driver pulled into a clearing, unhitched the horses and watered them, and called for the others to begin setting up camp for the night. If they stayed quiet enough, perhaps they wouldn’t be chased out of this kingdom, as well.
Dante, the driver and leader of the little band, took care to stretch and walked a little ways away from where the rest of the group was setting up camp. He was tall, with unruly ebony hair and cobalt eyes. He breathed in deeply, letting the cool fresh air fill his lungs. High in the trees a bird cooed in a mournful tone. Mimicking the call, Dante whistled back, as he searched for the bird. It was song unlike any other he had heard, soft and melodic, yet deeply sorrowful. He paused as a flash of color blurred past him. Tracing the path, his gaze fell upon a silver bird with glistening blue feathers on the top of her wings and tale, and a strangely patterned blue band around her neck.
“Hello, little one,” he said softly. The bird cooed softly and fluttered a bit on its perch. Slowly, Dante pulled a crumble of bread from his pocket and offered it, open palmed to the little bird. At first it hesitated, but after a few moments it flitted into his palm and picked cautiously at the crumbs. “My, you’re a pretty little bird. Where did you come from?” The bird, beak full of crumbs, tried to chirp despite the puffy full cheeks. Dante brought his hand a little closer, so he could look the bird over more intently. It had a glimmer to its silver down, where most birds had a muted gray, and the blue patterned band looked highly unusual, almost as if they were mimicking the shape of sapphires set in a necklace. Traveling from land to land had allowed him to see all kinds of flora and fauna, but he had never seen a specimen quite like this. His mind worked furiously as he tried to find a match to one like it. Then it clicked. “Pretty little one, you aren’t really a bird are you?” This time the bird stayed mute. “If you come with me, I will try my hardest to find your home. Are you willing?” It trilled and fluttered its wings against his hand. The gypsy took that to mean he had made a new friend and started his way back to camp.
* * *
This far underground, the palace had lost all trace of warmth and comfort as the dripping walls and slick stairs gave way to corridor after corridor of inky, black darkness. Aurelie shivered, unaccustomed to the dank recesses of the cells. Her father would not be too pleased if he knew she was down here, even with his majesty’s head guardsman. Gripping the torch tighter in her hand she followed behind the tall man, watching his broad back for any signs of hesitation.
Thierry strode through the darkness as if he owned it. He turned a corner, which to Aurelie’s relief lead to a staircase, where far above them a light shone through the darkness. The two began to ascend, the hush of the darkness and the echoing of their footsteps on the stairs the only sound around them.
“Sir Thierry, if I may…” Aurelie began.
“Hush yourself, Lady. We can speak more freely in a few minutes,” Thierry said. His voice was rough and it unsettled Aurelie just a tiny bit. She sunk into silence, instead concentrating on preventing her skirts from dragging through the dirt of the earthen staircase. Now that the horrid bard was locked safely away and Thierry carried his lute slung across his back, she found herself no less calm about what had transpired that afternoon. She supposed the impish creature would be coerced by any means into coughing up what he knew about their missing princess, but she didn’t really want to know the details of how the guards intended to extract it.
The sun broke across her face as she stepped off the last stair and into the warm, fresh air of the late afternoon. Thierry took the torch from her, extinguished it and placed it in a bracket above the door way. He glanced at her and clenched his jaw together twice before deciding to speak. Aurelie found the mannerism tiring.
“Say what you will, already,” she said peevishly. She set her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow at him.
“Can you ride, Lady?” he asked eventually. Aurelie dropped her arms, taken aback.
“Of course I can ride. My father has ensured that I have every possible means of protecting myself, even if he does have the most unconventional ideas of what that entails.” She began to pace. “Though I will admit, the last time I was actually on horseback I was a very small girl with him in the orchards, and I’m not quite sure how I could manage with…”
“I know you are concerned about the princess,” Thierry cut in. Aurelie stopped mid stride and bobbled a bit on her feet to regain her balance. He bit back a grin, as what he needed to say was a serious matter. “I am taking the bard, tonight. I intend to use him as a guide to find her. Would you be willing to accompany me? I think once we find her it would be pleasing to her to have the company of a friend.”
An amused smiled crept over her features. “Sir Thierry, are you asking me to follow you out into the woods without a chaperone?” Thierry’s scowl killed the tease in its tracks. “Of course I will go with you,” Aurelie amended. “I will need you to procure something for me, however.”
“I already have the horses lined up,” Thierry said.
“No, I require proper attire. I can’t very well amble out in the woods with stays and petticoats.” Aurelie gestured to her ornate gown.
“I see. Of course, my Lady. I shall gather the necessary garments.”
“Good,” Aurelie said. She turned to leave, but Thierry snatched her arm before she had gotten too far.
“Tell no one of this affair. I will meet you in the kitchens at midnight.” He released her arm quickly afterwards. “Until then, Lady.” Thierry gave her a curt bow and strode away, leaving an anxious, yet titillated Aurelie in his wake.
* * *
The campfire burned brightly against the darkened canopy of the forest. Preparations for dinner had begun, and the gentle clinking of cookware and utensils was a soothing sound. On the outskirts of camp, one girl stood staring out into the surrounding trees. She had folded her arms across her chest and was scowling, deeply, her violet eyes burning with annoyance. Dante was late in returning, which meant she would have to go out and fetch him if he didn’t return soon. She huffed and turned back towards the fire. Perhaps she’d go after him when dinner was finished.
“You don’t honestly believe that I’d miss rabbit stew, do you Fia?” His voice rumbled from behind her. Dante reached out ruffled his sister’s long raven hair. She ducked and smacked him across the arm.
“I wish you wouldn’t disappear so,” she said testily. Dante merely smiled and slid past her into the camp. “Hold on, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” Dante asked with an overly innocent note in his voice. He continued to walk until Fia cut in front of his path. She looked furious.
“You can not bring an enchanted creature into the circle, Dante!”
“Relax, Fia. She’s not going into the circle. I know well enough,” Dante said as he brushed past her again. The little bird, shifted from its perch on Dante’s shoulder, and inched closer to his head, puffing out its feathers in indignation.
“Oh, she is it?”
Dante spun on her in frustration. “Fia, this creature needs help. Whether or not we can provide it, or get her to someone who can, I don’t care. But, I’m not going to let you or anyone else prevent me from acting properly and helping a creature in need. So protest if you must. I’m not going to listen this time.” He continued on to the carriage, where, pulling back the faded velvet curtain, he disappeared inside.
Her scowl deepening, Fia followed after him. “And just how do you intend to do that?” she asked. “You are putting us all in danger by touting around some cursed creature. You could incur the wrath on to us all.”
“I will find a way!” Pulling a small gilt cage out from under a well worn quilt he opened the door and gently pried the little bird from his shoulder. He set his hand by the door, but the little bird would not go in to the cage. He nudged it gently with his finger, but it would not budge. “Come now, little one,” he said softly. “It’s for your own protection.” Behind him, Fia sighed deeply.
Closing her eyes she began to sing, softly, in a language Dante had not heard in quite some time. He was surprised by her song; one their mother had used to sing to them on cold winter nights:
“Little bird, little friend
Let us help you find an end
To this spell that has been cast
We will rend it from your past.
Whether spell or curse or
Pan’s own verse
That has you hidden from your home
We’ll find answers close or in a tome.”
There was silence in the carriage for a few moments. Then, the little bird chirped once and hopped in to the cage. Dante closed the door gently and placed the cage on a hook near the back window, so the bird could watch the forest. Fia frowned and slid from the carriage. Dante sighed as he watched her plunk down on a fallen log that had been placed by the fire as a bench. He hadn’t even been given the chance to thank her.
“She’ll forgive you soon enough.” Dante jumped; the voice had come from no where. He looked down to the side of the carriage where a short, curly haired young man stood. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise.
The young man grinned, and gave a slight bow. “Peregrine Traineur, at your service. I’ll give you my name before you ask too many silly questions about where I came from.”
“I’m more curious as to why you’re here,” Dante said. He smoothed the hair on the back of his head down. Leaning low over the side of the carriage, he spoke conspiratorially. “It’s not often the fae decide to meddle with my clan. State your business.”
Peregrine’s eyes glimmered with a mischievous sparkle. “I believe, very recently, you have acquired some very precious cargo. She is sorely missed indeed. Good of you to take her in, so to speak.”
“What of her? She accompanies me willingly.” Dante stepped down from the carriage and faced the young man squarely. “I’ll not be handing her over so easily.”
Peregrine shrugged. “I’m not asking you to. As I stated, she is your precious cargo. Moreover, she is very dear to my queen; a beloved friend, if you will. Therefore, my lady is deeply invested in returning our little avian friend to her natural state. Unfortunately, she does not have the skills necessary to break the enchantment. Since you spoke so forcefully of protecting and helping her I have been sent to extend an invitation.”
“Is that so?” Dante looked back over to the fire where the clan laughed at a joke someone had told. “An invitation to where?”
“Court. My lady would like a word with you.”
“How can I be guaranteed safe passage in and out? I will not accept unless I may return freely at my own will.”
“This is a matter of greater importance then tricking a human for amusement. No harm shall come to you or yours. I am to serve as your envoy to ensure your safety.” Peregrine paused and examined his nails. “Though, I suppose you have very little reason to believe me.” Dante clenched his jaw as he thought through his options. When it came down to it, he didn’t have many. He gave Peregrine a quick glance, then walked over to the fire where he bent low over his sister’s shoulder. Peregrine watched for a moment before sneaking to the back of the carriage and peeking up at the little bird in the cage. “Hello, Princess.”
* * *
The hearth fires were mere embers when Aurelie stole into the kitchens, dressed only in a sheath and her long golden hair braided into a long plait that hung far down her back. She perched herself on a low bench by the fireplace and waited. The little white kitchen cat yawned and stretched at her feet, before purring and rubbing against her ankles. In the hallway a commotion started that prompted Aurelie to jump from her spot and hide in the shadows of the corner.
“What exactly makes you think that I will give you any guidance to the fair court? You have done nothing but treat me ill and detain me unnecessarily!” The bard was forcefully assisted into the room, followed just after by Thierry.
“Either you help us find the princess or I’ll dispose of you without a second thought. The choice is yours.” Thierry stopped and locked the door to the kitchen behind him. Then, he looked around the darkened room for Aurelie. Alaric muttered several unsavory sounding things to himself. “Lady Aurelie, are you here?”
Aurelie slid out from the shadows and walked into the patch of moonlight that was splayed across the floor. As the light bounced off her, she seemed to glow with an ethereal light. Swallowing hard, Thierry tossed a bundle at her and turned his back to her, rather forcefully. Alaric raised an eyebrow and smirked. Thierry gripped his shoulder and turned him around. Aurelie sighed and went back to her corner to change. The clothes Thierry had provided for her were tight, yet soft and comfortable. The leather of the pants was well worn and the light fabric of the shirt was surprisingly soft against her skin. It was the perfect attire for an adventure.
“I’m set,” Aurelie declared. “Let’s get going!”
“I still don’t see why you’re dragging the girl into this,” Alaric mumbled as they left the kitchen, “Or me for that matter.”
It was a warm night; cloudless with little breeze. Aurelie trembled as she swung herself into the saddle of her horse. It had been quite sometime since she had last ridden, and she was a young girl then, before it was improper for the King’s niece to be out late at night with the head guard. She had forgotten how she had missed the smell of leather and the musk of horses as they started off through the forest. Alaric was bound and set in front of Thierry, whose grim visage told of his determination to simply be done with the whole business. Aurelie watched in wonder at the snippets of the nighttime sky she could see through the tree tops.
“The fae won’t be too amused by your traipsing into their domain without an invitation, I’ll have you know,” Alaric groused. “The queen may even send an emissary to be rid of you.” Thierry didn’t rise to the bait and kept riding.
“Just tell me how to get there.”
“Fine. We head south as long as a dragon’s tail. Then, east towards the rising sun, but stopping before the dew leaves the cradle of the flowers’ heads.”
Thierry changed course, deviating off the trail in to the unbeaten undergrowth of the forest floor. He glanced back once at Aurelie, making sure she was still behind him before pressing his heels into his horse’s flanks and picking up the pace of their ride.
They rode for several hours in relative silence, aside from the occasional angry outbursts and complaints from Alaric. The night air was cooler now, and fresher, thanks to the thick vegetation of the forest. The little band had yet to stop and rest, Thierry urging them forward seemingly tirelessly. Abruptly, Thierry stopped. He signaled to Aurelie to stop as well, and she pulled up just shy of him. A little ways off there was a dim glow, and faint sounds could be heard. Aurelie slid off her horse’s back and handed the reigns to Thierry. “I’ll go see what’s happening,” she said softly.
“No, Aurelie. It could be dangerous.” Thierry climbed off his horse, looking to stop her, but she had already disappeared into the darkness. “Damn.”
“She’s smarter than I gave her credit for,” Alaric said as he watched the spot where she had been previously standing.
* * *
“You’re not going to the fairy court alone,” Fia said. She was in the process of pulling on a boot and hopping awkwardly after her brother at the same time.
“You’re right, I’m not going alone. I have a guide. You need to stay here and take care of the clan.” Dante was already heading out to the edge of the clearing, the gilt cage in hand. Inside, the little bird slept.
“Dante, listen to me. I don’t trust them. If I go with you, at least you’ll have someone else to watch out for you.” She tugged the rest of the boot on and swiftly caught up to him. He turned to look at her. Her clothes were haphazardly thrown on and her hair was a mess.
“And if you do go with me, who will take care of the others? I need you to stay here for them.” He turned again and continued heading out to where Peregrine was waiting for him.
“They can fend for themselves! You’re more important.”
“Let the girl come,” Peregrine piped up from the edge of the wood. “She’ll just sneak away and follow us anyway, won’t you?” He grinned devilishly at Fia. She blushed and pretended to ignore his banter.
“Fine!” Dante said. “Don’t do anything to upset the Queen. The last thing I need is for you to be transformed into some creature yourself.” He tugged his sister’s arm and started dragging her behind, in order to pick up the pace. “With any luck we’ll be back by morning.”
“Hold on,” Peregrine said, and pointed to the forest. “I think we have a spy in our midst.” He inched towards a tree and, at the last second, lunged around it.
“Ugh! Get off me you mongrel!” A flurry of blond curls fell to the ground, between Peregrine and his prey. Peregrine bounced off the other man and reached down to help him up.
“Alaric? What are you doing here?” he asked.
Dusting himself off, Alaric stood up. “Well, I’m being hauled through the mud by a cheat of a lady and her knight in shining armor, who stole my lute and held me hostage as a means to find their missing princess. What are you doing?”
“I’m escorting a gypsy and his sister to Court. I think we may have something in common,” Peregrine said. He smiled at Alaric, who looked as disgruntled as ever. Dante and Fia had caught up to him now, and were looking questioningly at the new arrival. “And where are your fair lady and her knight?”
“Well, the lady cheat is right here,” Alaric said, pointing a little ways off to his side, where Aurelie was crouched behind a bush. “I’m not sure where the hulking man went.” Aurelie stood up slowly, watching the proceedings with caution. Thierry, horses in tow appeared behind her. “Ah, there he is.”
“What exactly is going on here?” Thierry asked.
“It seems your guide has gone a little astray,” Dante replied.
“I wouldn’t exactly call him a guide,” Thierry said. He narrowed his eyes when he spotted the cage in Dante’s hand.
“It seems that you two were trying to find your way to the fairy court. We were actually just on our way,” Fia said. Noticing Thierry’s intense scrutiny of the bird in the
cage, she crossed in front of her brother. “Why don’t you join us?” Aurelie and Thierry looked at one another, seemingly having a conversation without words.
“Well, we were only headed to the fairy court so that we could inquire about our princess. The bard knows more about the situation than he will admit to,” Thierry said as he turned back to Fia. Peregrine sent Alaric a pointed look and tapped the side of his face as he watched the goings on.
“We miss her very much,” Aurelie added. “She’s very much the heart of our kingdom.”
“I say, we all just make introductions and get on our merry way!” Peregrine cut in at last. “You, knight. You’re sworn to protect your princess?” Thierry nodded. “And you, Lady, you are willing to aid her at whatever cost?”
“Well, I don’t know that I’m willing to die for her but…” Aurelie trailed off once she caught the pointed looks from both Peregrine and Thierry. “Oh fine, yes. I am willing to aid my princess.”
“Good enough,” Peregrine said. He pointed to Dante and Fia. “Gypsies, meet your local town folk. You lot, meet your new gypsy friends.” Thierry’s eyes narrowed once again as he took in the rugged look of the pair standing in front of him. It hadn’t dawned on him during the commotion, but now he recognized their dark features as being somewhat other. Sensing trouble brewing, Peregrine preempted the squabble. “Shall we, then?” he asked.
* * *
The journey to the fair court was shorter than anyone had expected. The bright moonlight seemed to illuminate the path, and despite the deep forest the path was clear of twigs and brambles. As the group traveled, the forest had changed from dense and filled with trees to warmer, with more creeks and clear, still pools of water. Flowers bloomed in profusion, even in the darkness, while here and there moths and nocturnal animals could be spotted. Peregrine kept a steady pace, knowing exactly where he was going with every step. Dante and Fia were next in line, marching behind soundlessly. Thierry tromped behind them, crashing a little in the under brush, while Aurelie came next, picking her way carefully and weaving in and out of the path depending on where the tree-roots laid. Alaric brought up the rear, having been stuck leading the horses. He had whined early on that he did not want to walk, and therefore had been given the option of riding Aurelie’s horse, if he was willing to lead the other horse. Unfortunately, it took some doing, as Thierry’s mount was practically as immobile as his owner.
The court itself was nestled in a secluded clearing. It was decorated ornately with flowers and berries that stemmed from twisting vines to create the illusion of being inside an actual building. Lamps made from found objects and filled with beeswax dotted the walls, casting a warm glow through the space, making it feel far homier than the palace. The group, aside from Peregrine and Alaric, fell into an awed silence as they looked around amazed while waiting for the fair queen to appear. Aurelie plopped herself down in the exact middle and tilted her head skyward, twisting it this way and that to catch all the different things there were to see. Dante knelt next to her and set the gilt cage he had been carrying on the ground. He opened the door and scooped the little bird out, letting it stretch its wings and fly about. It chirped merrily as if it knew the ins and outs of the court by heart.
“Ah, there she is,” a soft voice said. The Queen appeared from thin air, suddenly standing before them in all her splendor. Her long, wavy brown hair ran freely down her back, where light pink tea roses and daises had been woven in. Her green eyes sparkled in an other-worldly way, and her smile was soft as she took in the strangers. She held her arm out to let the little bird alight. “Hello, Princess,” she said. The little bird sung in response, melodic and airily. Aurelie whipped her head around and stared hard at the queen, disbelieving what she had just heard.
“My Queen,” Peregrine started, “I have done what you asked and brought the Princess’ allies. They are here before you.”
Silvine raised her eyes and took in each of the travelers in turn. First she spotted Aurelie, who had risen and was staring hard at the little silver bird. Then Dante, who looked concerned for the bird. Afterwards, she spotted Thierry and Fia, both of whom looked uneasy with their positions in her court. Lastly she spotted Alaric and shook her head at him. He had the grace to duck his head and act ashamed. “So, you are the chosen few who will aid me in returning my dear Etoile to her rightful state?”
“The bird is Etoile?” Aurelie finally burst out. She marched towards the queen and peered closely at the bird. She restrained herself from poking it, but desperately wanted to see for herself if the bird was real. Etoile puffed up her feathers and chirped loudly. “What happened to her?!” Aurelie asked. Silvine cast a saddened look to Aurelie.
“I’m afraid her current enchantment is partially my fault. You see, she has been coming to visit me for years; ever since she sang to me when she was a little girl picking flowers with her mother. This past time, she was on her way to our usual spot when she accidentally crossed a witch. Though I don’t know how Etoile managed to incur the witch’s wrath. Whether jealous or angered, I’m not sure, she turned Etoile into this bird with powerful magic. I have not the power to transform her back, but I think I may have found a way. The only problem is I can not do it myself, as I am unable to touch the brambles needed.”
“Brambles?” Fia questioned, perking up for the first time. Her mother had used to tell her of the poisons brambles usually carried. “Why do you need brambles?”
“A human creature that has been transformed into another needs human clothes to return to their natural state. For powerful dark magic such as this, special clothing is needed. The princess needs a shirt made out of the white briar rose brambles, however I can not touch them as they are fatal to me.”
“I am well familiar with weaving,” Aurelie stated. Her look was sad, however, as transforming her princess back seemed suddenly hopeless. “Unfortunately, I am not familiar with this plant of which you mention.” Silvine turned her gaze back to Aurelie. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by another.
“I know the roses she is asking for. But where can I find them?” Dante asked. He looked at the little bird, who flew back to him and landed on his shoulder. Silvine smiled at him.
“She likes you, I can tell,” The Queen said. “About the roses; I do not know where to find them, as I am forbidden by my people from even smelling the scent of them. They worry so.”
Thierry spoke up. He walked up and grasped Aurelie’s wrist and squeezed gently. “I know of a place where roses grow in profusion.” He looked to Dante. “Are you sure you will be able to locate the right ones?” The gypsy nodded. Thierry nodded in
response and tugged on Aurelie’s arm. “The king will be most pleased with you, if this works. Not that he doesn’t already have a soft spot for his niece.”
“Let us go,” Dante said. He turned and started to leave. Fia bowed once to the queen and followed her brother. Thierry, leading Aurelie followed and soon they were back into the more familiar feeling of the open woods.
“Hold on!” Peregrine said, as he appeared within their midst. “I am to accompany you, make sure you don’t get yourselves into trouble.”
Thierry was helping Aurelie on to his horse, having lent hers to Dante and Fia. “I’m not sure we can carry you as well,” he said. Peregrine gave him a wicked smile.
“No need to worry, I can find my own way,” he replied. Thierry gave him a curt nod and then swung into the saddle behind Aurelie. “I shall be with you, don’t you worry,” Peregrine said. As the men swung their horses around Peregrine transformed himself into an owl and followed after them.
The muted colors of the forest flew by as they urged their horses on through the night. Etoile flew ahead of them, stopping here and there to watch them in the branches, as if she knew exactly where Thierry was leading them. Dawn was cresting in the far east, the sky turning shades of grey, then lavender as time marched on towards morning. As the first rays of true sunshine broke across the land, the band rode into a clearing where on all sides roses grew and turned their faces towards the morning sun. Dante leapt from his horse as soon as he was able and began cutting the thick vines and stalks needed to make the garment. Etoile perched on his shoulder and cooed encouragingly. Soon, he had a tall stack sitting by his feet. Thierry looked on in wonder and Aurelie and Fia made a makeshift loom out of sticks they found on the forest floor.
Aurelie worked steadily through the morning, ignoring the pricks and scratches as her fingers caught on the tough thorns. By the end of the morning her fingers were raw, but she braved on in silence. At mid day she switched off with Fia, who wanted to be more helpful. Between the two the shirt began to take shape. It was small, and the brambles made for an odd pattern as they wove. Afternoon stretched on, to early evening but the garment was slow to form. Peregrine popped in from time to time with food and water for the group and to offer advice on how to make the weaving tighter and prettier, despite the nimble fingers of the girls. His advice was often not well received, particularly by Fia.
Finally, as the moon began to rise, Aurelie wove the last vine into place. She twisted the topmost branch until it snapped from the rest of the piece still on the loom. She held the garment up and squinted at it, ensuring that it was whole and refined. Her princess wore only the best clothes. Etoile landed in her lap and chirped. Aurelie smiled. “Do you like it, Princess?” Aurelie glanced up at Dante and held the shirt out for him to take. “Would you like to do the honors?” she asked.
Dante took the shirt with shaking hands and held it as gently as he could. Etoile flew into the center of the clearing and waited. Dante knelt down next to her and gently slipped the garment over her head. There was a deep silence as they all held their breath in anticipation. Aurelie closed her eyes and hid behind her hands, peeking occasionally. But nothing happened.
Etoile chirped, and it sounded vaguely confused. Then, as the moon came out from behind a cloud and the beams fell across her, a flash of light burst through the clearing. The wind picked up and the others shielded their eyes, from the burning white glare. Just as suddenly as the light flared up, it ended. In the center of the clearing, wearing nothing but a sapphire necklace and a tangle of vines stood the princess.
Thierry stripped off his cape and strode forward, a smile breaking out over his face. He handed her the cloak and adverted his eyes. “We’ve missed you, Milady.” Aurelie, not exercising quite as much restraint jumped from her spot and tackled her cousin.
“I have missed you so, Etoile. Don’t you ever go wandering like that again!” she scolded, tears in her eyes, but a broad smile on her face as well. Etoile hugged the taller blonde and buried her face in her neck.
“I’m so sorry, Aurelie. I didn’t mean to cause such trouble. Next time, I’ll take you with me.” Aurelie broke away and looked the princess over.
“At least you’re whole,” she muttered, turning the girl around. Etoile, was completely at ease with her cousin’s once over, despite her nudity. Thierry had stripped off his shirt now and was blindly handing it towards the girls. Fia frowned and snatched it from his hands and thrust it at the two.
“For heaven’s sake, take it. Take it!” she said. Etoile took the shirt and, after breaking the brambles, tugged it over her head. The fabric was warm against her skin and she began to blush at all the attention she was getting. She reached over and hugged Fia, who looked startled at the gesture.
“Thank you, friend.”
Fia blushed in turn and awkwardly returned the hug of the princess. She locked eyes with her brother, whose face was a strange mixture of happiness and fear. “You shouldn’t be thanking me anyway,” she said and detangled herself from the princess’ arms. She turned the smaller girl around and shoved him towards her brother. “You should be thanking him.”
“So you’re the brave man who found me and declared to help me no matter what?” Etoile asked, her innocent blue eyes searching Dante’s face. “May I ask the name of my hero?”
Dante coughed as his voice stuck in his throat. “Dante,” he finally sputtered out. He felt oddly like he had more than his hands full now that he had managed to restore the little bird back to her true form.
“I thank you, kind sir,” Etoile said. She rose up on her toes and kissed him lightly on his cheek. She pulled away, and blushed deeply. A similar crimson color graced Dante’s cheeks as well.
* * *
Celebrations throughout the kingdom lasted for several weeks. Songs and declarations were often heard around the kingdom, of joy and triumph. The tale of the princess and her rescuers spread far and wide, in a much more accurate and joyful song than the one of her disappearance had been. The King was so happy his daughter returned that he could not stop smiling for days on end. His precious gift was returned thanks to a gypsy, a fae creature and the bold efforts of his niece and head night. All were honored to the highest degree. There were lavish balls for days on end, where Thierry and Aurelie were often seen discussing and dancing. Weekly feasts found the entire gypsy clan as honored guests, and in return they often provided entertainment. Thierry was granted the permission he had requested to court Aurelie, and he did so often. She could often be found wearing a new trinket he had given her or with a healthy flush of happiness on her face.
Dante and his clan were given land to settle on and welcomed as friends. Etoile frequently asked for his companionship and soon, new rumors began to spread from town to town of a royal wedding, often started by a blonde, curly haired bard, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and a strange tawny owl companion.
While known to traipse into the forest on flower picking ventures, she went missing for several days, with no word or sighting. The king’s men searched for her, but to no avail. Distraught, the king sent out messengers to the neighboring kingdoms, asking if others knew anything of his missing daughter. No responses returned. A dark gloom settled over the land, where the effervescent light of Princess Etoile’s sparkling face once was.
Rumors spread throughout the kingdom. The baker told his wife that the princess was murdered. The blacksmith and the cobbler both claimed she was transformed into a troll; while still others whispered amongst themselves that she was stolen by the fair folk. Yet no one knew the truth. All that was truly known was that Etoile was missing. The buzz of talk and tales spread through the kingdom like wildfire. Eventually the long and arduous tale of the grief stricken princess who, spurned by a lover, fled the castle and fell into a fairy circle where she was first turned into a deer by the angry fair folk, then murdered by a hunter, landed in the king’s court as told by a traveling (albeit somewhat daft) bard. The court sat in a horrified silence for many long moments until the hapless bard, seeing his performance was not well received, started to back slowly from the room. The King gave the slightest motion, and the bard was gripped on either side under the arms by two palace guards. He scowled as his lute clattered to the ground and left an off key twang echoing throughout the large space.
The king stood slowly and stepped off the dais. “Where did you hear of this tale?” The bard shifted slightly, swinging his long copper curls over his shoulder as the King advanced on him.
“I learned of it on my travels, Milord.” His green eyes shimmered with a hint of mischief. “Far and wide are songs and tales of a princess who has gone astray. I did not mean to offend, Milord. One does not often know which tales are unsuitable for an audience.”
“What else have you heard? Is there news of a mysterious girl?”
The bard cocked his head to the side in thought. “No, Milord. I have not heard of a girl arriving anywhere, only the songs and tales of one missing.” The king raised his arm in frustration and uttered a “Bah!” The guards hefted the bard from his place and escorted him from the hall.
Once outside in the sunlight, Alaric wrested his arms from the guards and dusted off his sleeves. “That is quite enough, thank you!” he said. The larger of the two guards shoved him from behind, a sign he should be on his way. Alaric turned and eyed the two guards testily. “My lute, if you please. I won’t be leaving without it. I assume a servant would have fetched it?”
“No. I did.” A tall blonde girl emerged from the darkness of the castle, the polished instrument in hand. She gave a little nod and the guards slunk back into the palace.
“Thank you, chérie,” the bard said as he reached for his lute. The girl clutched it tighter.
“I think you know more than you are letting on.” She narrowed her blue eyes at him. “You know where the princess is, don’t you?”
The bard huffed. “Now why would I lie to a king? My Lute.” He thrust his hand out and cupped his fingers twice.
“Tell me what you know.” The girl raised her chin defiantly. Alaric scowled as he looked her over. She looked well born, dressed in a golden gown, graceful yet powerful, similar to a lioness. Even still, she was no match for the fairy-born. He changed tactics quickly.
“Fine, chérie, I’ll tell you what I know. In exchange, you will give me my lute and we shall part ways. Agreed?”
“I want what information you have, first,” she said, and tightened her grip on the rose colored wood of the lute’s neck.
“Your little ingénue found her way into an enchantment, indeed. You’ll not likely recognize her now. Now, if you please my lute?”
“I believe that is quite enough,” a third voice said from behind. “Lady Aurelie, have you not been taught to avoid making deals with the fae?”
“Sir Thierry!” The girl’s cheeks tinted with a deep shade of pink and she put the lute behind her thin frame. The knight smirked and brushed a strand of his platinum blonde hair behind his ear. “I did not realize…” she trailed off as she took a fuller look at the
bard. He looked normal enough, except for the smaller stature, the very slight point at the tips of his ears and the wild, mischievous look in his green eyes. Aurelie gasped as the realization dawned on her.
Sick of the drawn out process, Alaric snarled. “No more delays! Give me the lute!” he exclaimed making a slight jump towards the girl, but was pulled back by the man who had interrupted. “Let go of me!” the bard exclaimed.
“I will do no such thing. Aside from you being unwanted here, you are committing treason to the crown! Withholding information about the princess is intolerable.” The guard took hold of the bard and started leading him back into the castle. He turned back to the girl standing in the courtyard, who was looking rather ashamed. “Lady Aurelie, come with me.”
* * *
Deep in the woods, a carriage trundled along a rutted path. The horses pulling it looked worn; covered with a fine sheen of sweat. The carriage did not look much better, having patches covering holes in its sides and faded fabric covering the windows. Still, it was painted a bright, cheery red with jewel toned accents. Inside, a clan of travel sore gypsies huddled between boxes of wares for sale and their sundry collection of possessions; iron cook ware, mismatched clothing of exotic fabrics and assorted trinkets from across the lands. As the night drew closer, the driver pulled into a clearing, unhitched the horses and watered them, and called for the others to begin setting up camp for the night. If they stayed quiet enough, perhaps they wouldn’t be chased out of this kingdom, as well.
Dante, the driver and leader of the little band, took care to stretch and walked a little ways away from where the rest of the group was setting up camp. He was tall, with unruly ebony hair and cobalt eyes. He breathed in deeply, letting the cool fresh air fill his lungs. High in the trees a bird cooed in a mournful tone. Mimicking the call, Dante whistled back, as he searched for the bird. It was song unlike any other he had heard, soft and melodic, yet deeply sorrowful. He paused as a flash of color blurred past him. Tracing the path, his gaze fell upon a silver bird with glistening blue feathers on the top of her wings and tale, and a strangely patterned blue band around her neck.
“Hello, little one,” he said softly. The bird cooed softly and fluttered a bit on its perch. Slowly, Dante pulled a crumble of bread from his pocket and offered it, open palmed to the little bird. At first it hesitated, but after a few moments it flitted into his palm and picked cautiously at the crumbs. “My, you’re a pretty little bird. Where did you come from?” The bird, beak full of crumbs, tried to chirp despite the puffy full cheeks. Dante brought his hand a little closer, so he could look the bird over more intently. It had a glimmer to its silver down, where most birds had a muted gray, and the blue patterned band looked highly unusual, almost as if they were mimicking the shape of sapphires set in a necklace. Traveling from land to land had allowed him to see all kinds of flora and fauna, but he had never seen a specimen quite like this. His mind worked furiously as he tried to find a match to one like it. Then it clicked. “Pretty little one, you aren’t really a bird are you?” This time the bird stayed mute. “If you come with me, I will try my hardest to find your home. Are you willing?” It trilled and fluttered its wings against his hand. The gypsy took that to mean he had made a new friend and started his way back to camp.
* * *
This far underground, the palace had lost all trace of warmth and comfort as the dripping walls and slick stairs gave way to corridor after corridor of inky, black darkness. Aurelie shivered, unaccustomed to the dank recesses of the cells. Her father would not be too pleased if he knew she was down here, even with his majesty’s head guardsman. Gripping the torch tighter in her hand she followed behind the tall man, watching his broad back for any signs of hesitation.
Thierry strode through the darkness as if he owned it. He turned a corner, which to Aurelie’s relief lead to a staircase, where far above them a light shone through the darkness. The two began to ascend, the hush of the darkness and the echoing of their footsteps on the stairs the only sound around them.
“Sir Thierry, if I may…” Aurelie began.
“Hush yourself, Lady. We can speak more freely in a few minutes,” Thierry said. His voice was rough and it unsettled Aurelie just a tiny bit. She sunk into silence, instead concentrating on preventing her skirts from dragging through the dirt of the earthen staircase. Now that the horrid bard was locked safely away and Thierry carried his lute slung across his back, she found herself no less calm about what had transpired that afternoon. She supposed the impish creature would be coerced by any means into coughing up what he knew about their missing princess, but she didn’t really want to know the details of how the guards intended to extract it.
The sun broke across her face as she stepped off the last stair and into the warm, fresh air of the late afternoon. Thierry took the torch from her, extinguished it and placed it in a bracket above the door way. He glanced at her and clenched his jaw together twice before deciding to speak. Aurelie found the mannerism tiring.
“Say what you will, already,” she said peevishly. She set her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow at him.
“Can you ride, Lady?” he asked eventually. Aurelie dropped her arms, taken aback.
“Of course I can ride. My father has ensured that I have every possible means of protecting myself, even if he does have the most unconventional ideas of what that entails.” She began to pace. “Though I will admit, the last time I was actually on horseback I was a very small girl with him in the orchards, and I’m not quite sure how I could manage with…”
“I know you are concerned about the princess,” Thierry cut in. Aurelie stopped mid stride and bobbled a bit on her feet to regain her balance. He bit back a grin, as what he needed to say was a serious matter. “I am taking the bard, tonight. I intend to use him as a guide to find her. Would you be willing to accompany me? I think once we find her it would be pleasing to her to have the company of a friend.”
An amused smiled crept over her features. “Sir Thierry, are you asking me to follow you out into the woods without a chaperone?” Thierry’s scowl killed the tease in its tracks. “Of course I will go with you,” Aurelie amended. “I will need you to procure something for me, however.”
“I already have the horses lined up,” Thierry said.
“No, I require proper attire. I can’t very well amble out in the woods with stays and petticoats.” Aurelie gestured to her ornate gown.
“I see. Of course, my Lady. I shall gather the necessary garments.”
“Good,” Aurelie said. She turned to leave, but Thierry snatched her arm before she had gotten too far.
“Tell no one of this affair. I will meet you in the kitchens at midnight.” He released her arm quickly afterwards. “Until then, Lady.” Thierry gave her a curt bow and strode away, leaving an anxious, yet titillated Aurelie in his wake.
* * *
The campfire burned brightly against the darkened canopy of the forest. Preparations for dinner had begun, and the gentle clinking of cookware and utensils was a soothing sound. On the outskirts of camp, one girl stood staring out into the surrounding trees. She had folded her arms across her chest and was scowling, deeply, her violet eyes burning with annoyance. Dante was late in returning, which meant she would have to go out and fetch him if he didn’t return soon. She huffed and turned back towards the fire. Perhaps she’d go after him when dinner was finished.
“You don’t honestly believe that I’d miss rabbit stew, do you Fia?” His voice rumbled from behind her. Dante reached out ruffled his sister’s long raven hair. She ducked and smacked him across the arm.
“I wish you wouldn’t disappear so,” she said testily. Dante merely smiled and slid past her into the camp. “Hold on, what’s that?”
“What’s what?” Dante asked with an overly innocent note in his voice. He continued to walk until Fia cut in front of his path. She looked furious.
“You can not bring an enchanted creature into the circle, Dante!”
“Relax, Fia. She’s not going into the circle. I know well enough,” Dante said as he brushed past her again. The little bird, shifted from its perch on Dante’s shoulder, and inched closer to his head, puffing out its feathers in indignation.
“Oh, she is it?”
Dante spun on her in frustration. “Fia, this creature needs help. Whether or not we can provide it, or get her to someone who can, I don’t care. But, I’m not going to let you or anyone else prevent me from acting properly and helping a creature in need. So protest if you must. I’m not going to listen this time.” He continued on to the carriage, where, pulling back the faded velvet curtain, he disappeared inside.
Her scowl deepening, Fia followed after him. “And just how do you intend to do that?” she asked. “You are putting us all in danger by touting around some cursed creature. You could incur the wrath on to us all.”
“I will find a way!” Pulling a small gilt cage out from under a well worn quilt he opened the door and gently pried the little bird from his shoulder. He set his hand by the door, but the little bird would not go in to the cage. He nudged it gently with his finger, but it would not budge. “Come now, little one,” he said softly. “It’s for your own protection.” Behind him, Fia sighed deeply.
Closing her eyes she began to sing, softly, in a language Dante had not heard in quite some time. He was surprised by her song; one their mother had used to sing to them on cold winter nights:
“Little bird, little friend
Let us help you find an end
To this spell that has been cast
We will rend it from your past.
Whether spell or curse or
Pan’s own verse
That has you hidden from your home
We’ll find answers close or in a tome.”
There was silence in the carriage for a few moments. Then, the little bird chirped once and hopped in to the cage. Dante closed the door gently and placed the cage on a hook near the back window, so the bird could watch the forest. Fia frowned and slid from the carriage. Dante sighed as he watched her plunk down on a fallen log that had been placed by the fire as a bench. He hadn’t even been given the chance to thank her.
“She’ll forgive you soon enough.” Dante jumped; the voice had come from no where. He looked down to the side of the carriage where a short, curly haired young man stood. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise.
The young man grinned, and gave a slight bow. “Peregrine Traineur, at your service. I’ll give you my name before you ask too many silly questions about where I came from.”
“I’m more curious as to why you’re here,” Dante said. He smoothed the hair on the back of his head down. Leaning low over the side of the carriage, he spoke conspiratorially. “It’s not often the fae decide to meddle with my clan. State your business.”
Peregrine’s eyes glimmered with a mischievous sparkle. “I believe, very recently, you have acquired some very precious cargo. She is sorely missed indeed. Good of you to take her in, so to speak.”
“What of her? She accompanies me willingly.” Dante stepped down from the carriage and faced the young man squarely. “I’ll not be handing her over so easily.”
Peregrine shrugged. “I’m not asking you to. As I stated, she is your precious cargo. Moreover, she is very dear to my queen; a beloved friend, if you will. Therefore, my lady is deeply invested in returning our little avian friend to her natural state. Unfortunately, she does not have the skills necessary to break the enchantment. Since you spoke so forcefully of protecting and helping her I have been sent to extend an invitation.”
“Is that so?” Dante looked back over to the fire where the clan laughed at a joke someone had told. “An invitation to where?”
“Court. My lady would like a word with you.”
“How can I be guaranteed safe passage in and out? I will not accept unless I may return freely at my own will.”
“This is a matter of greater importance then tricking a human for amusement. No harm shall come to you or yours. I am to serve as your envoy to ensure your safety.” Peregrine paused and examined his nails. “Though, I suppose you have very little reason to believe me.” Dante clenched his jaw as he thought through his options. When it came down to it, he didn’t have many. He gave Peregrine a quick glance, then walked over to the fire where he bent low over his sister’s shoulder. Peregrine watched for a moment before sneaking to the back of the carriage and peeking up at the little bird in the cage. “Hello, Princess.”
* * *
The hearth fires were mere embers when Aurelie stole into the kitchens, dressed only in a sheath and her long golden hair braided into a long plait that hung far down her back. She perched herself on a low bench by the fireplace and waited. The little white kitchen cat yawned and stretched at her feet, before purring and rubbing against her ankles. In the hallway a commotion started that prompted Aurelie to jump from her spot and hide in the shadows of the corner.
“What exactly makes you think that I will give you any guidance to the fair court? You have done nothing but treat me ill and detain me unnecessarily!” The bard was forcefully assisted into the room, followed just after by Thierry.
“Either you help us find the princess or I’ll dispose of you without a second thought. The choice is yours.” Thierry stopped and locked the door to the kitchen behind him. Then, he looked around the darkened room for Aurelie. Alaric muttered several unsavory sounding things to himself. “Lady Aurelie, are you here?”
Aurelie slid out from the shadows and walked into the patch of moonlight that was splayed across the floor. As the light bounced off her, she seemed to glow with an ethereal light. Swallowing hard, Thierry tossed a bundle at her and turned his back to her, rather forcefully. Alaric raised an eyebrow and smirked. Thierry gripped his shoulder and turned him around. Aurelie sighed and went back to her corner to change. The clothes Thierry had provided for her were tight, yet soft and comfortable. The leather of the pants was well worn and the light fabric of the shirt was surprisingly soft against her skin. It was the perfect attire for an adventure.
“I’m set,” Aurelie declared. “Let’s get going!”
“I still don’t see why you’re dragging the girl into this,” Alaric mumbled as they left the kitchen, “Or me for that matter.”
It was a warm night; cloudless with little breeze. Aurelie trembled as she swung herself into the saddle of her horse. It had been quite sometime since she had last ridden, and she was a young girl then, before it was improper for the King’s niece to be out late at night with the head guard. She had forgotten how she had missed the smell of leather and the musk of horses as they started off through the forest. Alaric was bound and set in front of Thierry, whose grim visage told of his determination to simply be done with the whole business. Aurelie watched in wonder at the snippets of the nighttime sky she could see through the tree tops.
“The fae won’t be too amused by your traipsing into their domain without an invitation, I’ll have you know,” Alaric groused. “The queen may even send an emissary to be rid of you.” Thierry didn’t rise to the bait and kept riding.
“Just tell me how to get there.”
“Fine. We head south as long as a dragon’s tail. Then, east towards the rising sun, but stopping before the dew leaves the cradle of the flowers’ heads.”
Thierry changed course, deviating off the trail in to the unbeaten undergrowth of the forest floor. He glanced back once at Aurelie, making sure she was still behind him before pressing his heels into his horse’s flanks and picking up the pace of their ride.
They rode for several hours in relative silence, aside from the occasional angry outbursts and complaints from Alaric. The night air was cooler now, and fresher, thanks to the thick vegetation of the forest. The little band had yet to stop and rest, Thierry urging them forward seemingly tirelessly. Abruptly, Thierry stopped. He signaled to Aurelie to stop as well, and she pulled up just shy of him. A little ways off there was a dim glow, and faint sounds could be heard. Aurelie slid off her horse’s back and handed the reigns to Thierry. “I’ll go see what’s happening,” she said softly.
“No, Aurelie. It could be dangerous.” Thierry climbed off his horse, looking to stop her, but she had already disappeared into the darkness. “Damn.”
“She’s smarter than I gave her credit for,” Alaric said as he watched the spot where she had been previously standing.
* * *
“You’re not going to the fairy court alone,” Fia said. She was in the process of pulling on a boot and hopping awkwardly after her brother at the same time.
“You’re right, I’m not going alone. I have a guide. You need to stay here and take care of the clan.” Dante was already heading out to the edge of the clearing, the gilt cage in hand. Inside, the little bird slept.
“Dante, listen to me. I don’t trust them. If I go with you, at least you’ll have someone else to watch out for you.” She tugged the rest of the boot on and swiftly caught up to him. He turned to look at her. Her clothes were haphazardly thrown on and her hair was a mess.
“And if you do go with me, who will take care of the others? I need you to stay here for them.” He turned again and continued heading out to where Peregrine was waiting for him.
“They can fend for themselves! You’re more important.”
“Let the girl come,” Peregrine piped up from the edge of the wood. “She’ll just sneak away and follow us anyway, won’t you?” He grinned devilishly at Fia. She blushed and pretended to ignore his banter.
“Fine!” Dante said. “Don’t do anything to upset the Queen. The last thing I need is for you to be transformed into some creature yourself.” He tugged his sister’s arm and started dragging her behind, in order to pick up the pace. “With any luck we’ll be back by morning.”
“Hold on,” Peregrine said, and pointed to the forest. “I think we have a spy in our midst.” He inched towards a tree and, at the last second, lunged around it.
“Ugh! Get off me you mongrel!” A flurry of blond curls fell to the ground, between Peregrine and his prey. Peregrine bounced off the other man and reached down to help him up.
“Alaric? What are you doing here?” he asked.
Dusting himself off, Alaric stood up. “Well, I’m being hauled through the mud by a cheat of a lady and her knight in shining armor, who stole my lute and held me hostage as a means to find their missing princess. What are you doing?”
“I’m escorting a gypsy and his sister to Court. I think we may have something in common,” Peregrine said. He smiled at Alaric, who looked as disgruntled as ever. Dante and Fia had caught up to him now, and were looking questioningly at the new arrival. “And where are your fair lady and her knight?”
“Well, the lady cheat is right here,” Alaric said, pointing a little ways off to his side, where Aurelie was crouched behind a bush. “I’m not sure where the hulking man went.” Aurelie stood up slowly, watching the proceedings with caution. Thierry, horses in tow appeared behind her. “Ah, there he is.”
“What exactly is going on here?” Thierry asked.
“It seems your guide has gone a little astray,” Dante replied.
“I wouldn’t exactly call him a guide,” Thierry said. He narrowed his eyes when he spotted the cage in Dante’s hand.
“It seems that you two were trying to find your way to the fairy court. We were actually just on our way,” Fia said. Noticing Thierry’s intense scrutiny of the bird in the
cage, she crossed in front of her brother. “Why don’t you join us?” Aurelie and Thierry looked at one another, seemingly having a conversation without words.
“Well, we were only headed to the fairy court so that we could inquire about our princess. The bard knows more about the situation than he will admit to,” Thierry said as he turned back to Fia. Peregrine sent Alaric a pointed look and tapped the side of his face as he watched the goings on.
“We miss her very much,” Aurelie added. “She’s very much the heart of our kingdom.”
“I say, we all just make introductions and get on our merry way!” Peregrine cut in at last. “You, knight. You’re sworn to protect your princess?” Thierry nodded. “And you, Lady, you are willing to aid her at whatever cost?”
“Well, I don’t know that I’m willing to die for her but…” Aurelie trailed off once she caught the pointed looks from both Peregrine and Thierry. “Oh fine, yes. I am willing to aid my princess.”
“Good enough,” Peregrine said. He pointed to Dante and Fia. “Gypsies, meet your local town folk. You lot, meet your new gypsy friends.” Thierry’s eyes narrowed once again as he took in the rugged look of the pair standing in front of him. It hadn’t dawned on him during the commotion, but now he recognized their dark features as being somewhat other. Sensing trouble brewing, Peregrine preempted the squabble. “Shall we, then?” he asked.
* * *
The journey to the fair court was shorter than anyone had expected. The bright moonlight seemed to illuminate the path, and despite the deep forest the path was clear of twigs and brambles. As the group traveled, the forest had changed from dense and filled with trees to warmer, with more creeks and clear, still pools of water. Flowers bloomed in profusion, even in the darkness, while here and there moths and nocturnal animals could be spotted. Peregrine kept a steady pace, knowing exactly where he was going with every step. Dante and Fia were next in line, marching behind soundlessly. Thierry tromped behind them, crashing a little in the under brush, while Aurelie came next, picking her way carefully and weaving in and out of the path depending on where the tree-roots laid. Alaric brought up the rear, having been stuck leading the horses. He had whined early on that he did not want to walk, and therefore had been given the option of riding Aurelie’s horse, if he was willing to lead the other horse. Unfortunately, it took some doing, as Thierry’s mount was practically as immobile as his owner.
The court itself was nestled in a secluded clearing. It was decorated ornately with flowers and berries that stemmed from twisting vines to create the illusion of being inside an actual building. Lamps made from found objects and filled with beeswax dotted the walls, casting a warm glow through the space, making it feel far homier than the palace. The group, aside from Peregrine and Alaric, fell into an awed silence as they looked around amazed while waiting for the fair queen to appear. Aurelie plopped herself down in the exact middle and tilted her head skyward, twisting it this way and that to catch all the different things there were to see. Dante knelt next to her and set the gilt cage he had been carrying on the ground. He opened the door and scooped the little bird out, letting it stretch its wings and fly about. It chirped merrily as if it knew the ins and outs of the court by heart.
“Ah, there she is,” a soft voice said. The Queen appeared from thin air, suddenly standing before them in all her splendor. Her long, wavy brown hair ran freely down her back, where light pink tea roses and daises had been woven in. Her green eyes sparkled in an other-worldly way, and her smile was soft as she took in the strangers. She held her arm out to let the little bird alight. “Hello, Princess,” she said. The little bird sung in response, melodic and airily. Aurelie whipped her head around and stared hard at the queen, disbelieving what she had just heard.
“My Queen,” Peregrine started, “I have done what you asked and brought the Princess’ allies. They are here before you.”
Silvine raised her eyes and took in each of the travelers in turn. First she spotted Aurelie, who had risen and was staring hard at the little silver bird. Then Dante, who looked concerned for the bird. Afterwards, she spotted Thierry and Fia, both of whom looked uneasy with their positions in her court. Lastly she spotted Alaric and shook her head at him. He had the grace to duck his head and act ashamed. “So, you are the chosen few who will aid me in returning my dear Etoile to her rightful state?”
“The bird is Etoile?” Aurelie finally burst out. She marched towards the queen and peered closely at the bird. She restrained herself from poking it, but desperately wanted to see for herself if the bird was real. Etoile puffed up her feathers and chirped loudly. “What happened to her?!” Aurelie asked. Silvine cast a saddened look to Aurelie.
“I’m afraid her current enchantment is partially my fault. You see, she has been coming to visit me for years; ever since she sang to me when she was a little girl picking flowers with her mother. This past time, she was on her way to our usual spot when she accidentally crossed a witch. Though I don’t know how Etoile managed to incur the witch’s wrath. Whether jealous or angered, I’m not sure, she turned Etoile into this bird with powerful magic. I have not the power to transform her back, but I think I may have found a way. The only problem is I can not do it myself, as I am unable to touch the brambles needed.”
“Brambles?” Fia questioned, perking up for the first time. Her mother had used to tell her of the poisons brambles usually carried. “Why do you need brambles?”
“A human creature that has been transformed into another needs human clothes to return to their natural state. For powerful dark magic such as this, special clothing is needed. The princess needs a shirt made out of the white briar rose brambles, however I can not touch them as they are fatal to me.”
“I am well familiar with weaving,” Aurelie stated. Her look was sad, however, as transforming her princess back seemed suddenly hopeless. “Unfortunately, I am not familiar with this plant of which you mention.” Silvine turned her gaze back to Aurelie. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by another.
“I know the roses she is asking for. But where can I find them?” Dante asked. He looked at the little bird, who flew back to him and landed on his shoulder. Silvine smiled at him.
“She likes you, I can tell,” The Queen said. “About the roses; I do not know where to find them, as I am forbidden by my people from even smelling the scent of them. They worry so.”
Thierry spoke up. He walked up and grasped Aurelie’s wrist and squeezed gently. “I know of a place where roses grow in profusion.” He looked to Dante. “Are you sure you will be able to locate the right ones?” The gypsy nodded. Thierry nodded in
response and tugged on Aurelie’s arm. “The king will be most pleased with you, if this works. Not that he doesn’t already have a soft spot for his niece.”
“Let us go,” Dante said. He turned and started to leave. Fia bowed once to the queen and followed her brother. Thierry, leading Aurelie followed and soon they were back into the more familiar feeling of the open woods.
“Hold on!” Peregrine said, as he appeared within their midst. “I am to accompany you, make sure you don’t get yourselves into trouble.”
Thierry was helping Aurelie on to his horse, having lent hers to Dante and Fia. “I’m not sure we can carry you as well,” he said. Peregrine gave him a wicked smile.
“No need to worry, I can find my own way,” he replied. Thierry gave him a curt nod and then swung into the saddle behind Aurelie. “I shall be with you, don’t you worry,” Peregrine said. As the men swung their horses around Peregrine transformed himself into an owl and followed after them.
The muted colors of the forest flew by as they urged their horses on through the night. Etoile flew ahead of them, stopping here and there to watch them in the branches, as if she knew exactly where Thierry was leading them. Dawn was cresting in the far east, the sky turning shades of grey, then lavender as time marched on towards morning. As the first rays of true sunshine broke across the land, the band rode into a clearing where on all sides roses grew and turned their faces towards the morning sun. Dante leapt from his horse as soon as he was able and began cutting the thick vines and stalks needed to make the garment. Etoile perched on his shoulder and cooed encouragingly. Soon, he had a tall stack sitting by his feet. Thierry looked on in wonder and Aurelie and Fia made a makeshift loom out of sticks they found on the forest floor.
Aurelie worked steadily through the morning, ignoring the pricks and scratches as her fingers caught on the tough thorns. By the end of the morning her fingers were raw, but she braved on in silence. At mid day she switched off with Fia, who wanted to be more helpful. Between the two the shirt began to take shape. It was small, and the brambles made for an odd pattern as they wove. Afternoon stretched on, to early evening but the garment was slow to form. Peregrine popped in from time to time with food and water for the group and to offer advice on how to make the weaving tighter and prettier, despite the nimble fingers of the girls. His advice was often not well received, particularly by Fia.
Finally, as the moon began to rise, Aurelie wove the last vine into place. She twisted the topmost branch until it snapped from the rest of the piece still on the loom. She held the garment up and squinted at it, ensuring that it was whole and refined. Her princess wore only the best clothes. Etoile landed in her lap and chirped. Aurelie smiled. “Do you like it, Princess?” Aurelie glanced up at Dante and held the shirt out for him to take. “Would you like to do the honors?” she asked.
Dante took the shirt with shaking hands and held it as gently as he could. Etoile flew into the center of the clearing and waited. Dante knelt down next to her and gently slipped the garment over her head. There was a deep silence as they all held their breath in anticipation. Aurelie closed her eyes and hid behind her hands, peeking occasionally. But nothing happened.
Etoile chirped, and it sounded vaguely confused. Then, as the moon came out from behind a cloud and the beams fell across her, a flash of light burst through the clearing. The wind picked up and the others shielded their eyes, from the burning white glare. Just as suddenly as the light flared up, it ended. In the center of the clearing, wearing nothing but a sapphire necklace and a tangle of vines stood the princess.
Thierry stripped off his cape and strode forward, a smile breaking out over his face. He handed her the cloak and adverted his eyes. “We’ve missed you, Milady.” Aurelie, not exercising quite as much restraint jumped from her spot and tackled her cousin.
“I have missed you so, Etoile. Don’t you ever go wandering like that again!” she scolded, tears in her eyes, but a broad smile on her face as well. Etoile hugged the taller blonde and buried her face in her neck.
“I’m so sorry, Aurelie. I didn’t mean to cause such trouble. Next time, I’ll take you with me.” Aurelie broke away and looked the princess over.
“At least you’re whole,” she muttered, turning the girl around. Etoile, was completely at ease with her cousin’s once over, despite her nudity. Thierry had stripped off his shirt now and was blindly handing it towards the girls. Fia frowned and snatched it from his hands and thrust it at the two.
“For heaven’s sake, take it. Take it!” she said. Etoile took the shirt and, after breaking the brambles, tugged it over her head. The fabric was warm against her skin and she began to blush at all the attention she was getting. She reached over and hugged Fia, who looked startled at the gesture.
“Thank you, friend.”
Fia blushed in turn and awkwardly returned the hug of the princess. She locked eyes with her brother, whose face was a strange mixture of happiness and fear. “You shouldn’t be thanking me anyway,” she said and detangled herself from the princess’ arms. She turned the smaller girl around and shoved him towards her brother. “You should be thanking him.”
“So you’re the brave man who found me and declared to help me no matter what?” Etoile asked, her innocent blue eyes searching Dante’s face. “May I ask the name of my hero?”
Dante coughed as his voice stuck in his throat. “Dante,” he finally sputtered out. He felt oddly like he had more than his hands full now that he had managed to restore the little bird back to her true form.
“I thank you, kind sir,” Etoile said. She rose up on her toes and kissed him lightly on his cheek. She pulled away, and blushed deeply. A similar crimson color graced Dante’s cheeks as well.
* * *
Celebrations throughout the kingdom lasted for several weeks. Songs and declarations were often heard around the kingdom, of joy and triumph. The tale of the princess and her rescuers spread far and wide, in a much more accurate and joyful song than the one of her disappearance had been. The King was so happy his daughter returned that he could not stop smiling for days on end. His precious gift was returned thanks to a gypsy, a fae creature and the bold efforts of his niece and head night. All were honored to the highest degree. There were lavish balls for days on end, where Thierry and Aurelie were often seen discussing and dancing. Weekly feasts found the entire gypsy clan as honored guests, and in return they often provided entertainment. Thierry was granted the permission he had requested to court Aurelie, and he did so often. She could often be found wearing a new trinket he had given her or with a healthy flush of happiness on her face.
Dante and his clan were given land to settle on and welcomed as friends. Etoile frequently asked for his companionship and soon, new rumors began to spread from town to town of a royal wedding, often started by a blonde, curly haired bard, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and a strange tawny owl companion.