Fae Queen

Things are not as they seem in the Fae realm.

Rumor has it that one of the fairies has learn how to lie - something that's never been done before.
And as Queen - Felaine has the duty to find out who - and deal with them.

But that's not all - something more is on the horizon.
And she'll have to fight her way through it if she wants to stay alive.


1. Fae Queen

Fae Queen


I’m not doing this because I want to, it’s really because I have to.

At least that’s what I’m telling myself when I find myself staring hard at a human girl trying to make her forget her night with fair folk.

 The revelry, dancing, the addictive nature of our kisses, it’s simply too much for the average fragile human being. So if ever they ‘find’ their way into one of our parties, they are made to forget soon after.

They all remember bits and pieces though – a bit of glitter too bright to be normal, people with see through wings that weren’t strapped onto their backs, or food too good to even describe.

Humans, being as predictable as they are, write these little glimpses into our world as hallucinations, daydreaming, and any manner of other things really.

The girl blinked a few times, her dark brown eyes becoming hazed slightly and I watched as she tried to fight it, trying so very hard to keep her memories, to fight to remember this one miraculous night – but it was all in vein really.

It was forget or else.

I shivered at the thought, aching to run my hands over my bear arms, but didn’t dare take my eyes off of the girl until I was certain all memories of her night with the Fae boy had been erased from memory.

I glanced towards the boy who had charmed her, watching as he cowered under the look, I nodded to him, letting him take the girl back to her world in the quickest means possible, and then dump her in a park somewhere where most girls were found in the morning by friends.

We tried our hardest to make sure no harm came to the girls who visited us – but once they were out of our realm, they weren’t our responsibility.

I sighed, finally able to rub my arm, almost grimacing at the sight of the bright green ‘leaf’ knee length dress, with little lace off the shoulder bits that had me itching. This was the dress that I had to wear for those official like meetings.

Usually though, it was much quieter around the Fae world, at least until the parties (which where every weekend) to celebrate something or another (I could never really remember why we had half the parties we did) or adventures into the real world – which we didn’t do as often any more.

The Fae people where a mischievous bunch and excursions into the real world often meant crowds having to be swiped of their memories or stolen items put back where they belonged.

I believe, one of the Queens before me, in one of her visits to the real world some of the Fae had actually stolen many paintings and books, and other seemingly inconsequential artefacts from a single household in some European country during the 1940’s. Most of which was still in our archives gathering dust.

And as for our interaction with the human world, well, that wasn’t so simple to describe as it once would have been. In the past, our interactions where simple – strike fear into the hearts of mortals, steal their children and make them fairies. Now, since we’ve grown up just a little, mortals (usually girls) who join our revelries and do not forget them soon dance and frolic enough to grow wings and become a human-like Fae.

They take on our qualities – our beauty, grace, our inability to lie – and they enter the ascension. Basically – they then have the ability to become Queen (or King) and retain their slightly humanish looks, thoughts, and memories, or give them up to be reborn a Fae during the Festival of Humanity.  

The Festival of Humanity was – in human time – around April, and it was the one time humans could become fully Fae, or humans could accept the responsibility of being Queen for possibly thousands of centuries taking care of adults that acted like three year olds.

It was pretty obvious why most humans chose the first option rather than the second.

I slipped into my chamber fairly unnoticed – except for the horde of guards that followed me around almost everywhere I went – and literally fell into my bed, groaning loudly into my pillow before dragging myself off it and into the bathroom to shower and change.

I slipped into a sundress and sat in front of my vanity, taking my hairbrush and taking out the illustrious braid that had entangled my bright red hair the night before watching as my eyes changed colour from a Fae gold to a human blue.

I closed my eyes lightly, concentrating before looking back up, satisfied that my eyes had now settled into their Fae colouring.

It wasn’t unusual for Queens or Kings to still have some human features – such as hair or eye colour, but mostly our features resembled that of our subjects.

I continued to brush my hair until it fell in soft curls down my back, stopping just short of my red and gold wings. They lay flattened against my back most of the time, but when I was in my private chambers I allowed them to flutter freely, giving me the chance to appreciate just how special they truly where.

The Kings and Queens of the Fae were Fae, but not always fully.

I sighed into my reflection, my human memories tried to flood my mind but I stopped them short at my first night of revelry.

I called in the young Fae boy who had charmed the human girl. He stood at my door, almost shaking with fear, his eyes were lowered respectfully and I had to almost smile at how timid he seemed.

“Did you bed the girl?” I asked abruptly, breaking the silence, the Fae boy – Aarorn looked started and shook his head wordlessly, the disgust plain on his features.

“You will take double duty in the kitchens” I said simply, and Aarorn looked relieved, but that was over shortly. “And Aarorn, you are banned from attending the next two revelries.”

Attendance at revelries was almost compulsory among the Fae, and to be banned from them was a serious punishment. In its own way, the parties where as much a part of fairy culture as ‘stealing’ babies was a century ago – fairies thrived and withered on the amount of parties they attended.

That was why fairies where rarely seen alone – we needed each other to survive, we needed the partying, we needed the revelries.

We where strange creatures, but we made do with what we had.

I let one of my guards escort Aarorn out of my room, and decidedly stared back into my mirror for a few short seconds before adjourning to my balcony which overhung most of the country.

I leaned against the white marble railing and stared into the vibrant colours of my city. As people in tune with nature we preferred “natural earth tones” like greens and browns and reds.

But for our infrastructure? We went all out, gold’s, and silvers (real of course) as well as purples and pinks and all arrangements of colour. Each fairies house was painting in their favourite colour, often resulting in a wide variety of hues. The palace however remained gold no matter the preferences of the leader.

If I had a choice, I’d probably paint the whole thing red.

I turned away from my balcony, fluttering my way into my room, closing the doors quietly and pulling the curtains across them.

“Your majesty” A male voice called and I smiled.

“Dantor, is that you?” I asked into the darkness – cursing my lack of ability to see in the dark.

Strong hands clamped around my middle and I giggled like a small child, allowing myself to be pulled along for a short time before I turned in his arms, placing a feather light kiss on his cheek and resting my head on his chest.

“Hard day recovering from the party my Queen?” He asked, his fingers working their way through my hair.

“I had to wipe some poor girl’s memory” I shuddered, remembering how that had felt when the previous Queen before me had tried.

The feeling was somewhere between terrifying, painful, and joyous.

“My Queen” Dantor called me back from the memory with a whisper by my throat.

“I told you to call me Felaine” I scalded him playfully.

No matter how many times he saw me, he couldn’t shake off the formality of my title.  

“Felaine” Dantor called my name in my ear, the name like a prayer which I answered with a kiss.

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