Queen of the Clearing

"...And I shall decree that girls don't have to wear dresses."
He blinked, half-listening. "Technically, that's not a law."
"Well then what is it?"
"Hmm? Oh, it's like...culture. The way of the people."
"Well then I shall decree it is no longer the way of the people. Girls can wear whatever they want! And maybe I'll decree that boys have to wear dresses."
A pity, he thought, that she should target such a thing. Laws, he knew, were easy to change. Culture was nearly impossible.
Caught between two peoples thanks to the mixed blood in his veins, he understood such things.
A loud clap wrested him from his reverie.
"The Prince does not listen," the girl before him chided.
Her dark hair hung free, topped with a crown of flowers. All of seven years old, she held herself regally, surveying the clearing as a queen would her domain.
He sat lazily tucked against a tree, and scraped the dirt from his nails. "What are you playing at?" he asked. At twelve, he was too old for such games, but he was bored and she always seemed to say something interesting.
"I am Queen, today," she answered, petulant chin held high. She danced through the clearing on tiptoes, hands held aloft with childish grace. "And you will heed me."
"Queen? Queen of what?"
She paused. Turned her amber eyes to meet his leaf-green pair. "Hmm."
"Queen of the world?" he prompted.
She shook her head. A petal or two swirled gently to the green earth.
"No?"
"Seems like too much work," she said loftily, and he answered with a smile.
"Well enough. You are too much trouble for the world to handle, too."
"Bryar! You will be kind to me, and heed me, for I am Queen." She flashed him her sternest expression, hands on hips.
"Oh? Or what?"
"Or...or..." She screwed up her face, pondering. Then a certain fire danced in her eyes. He knew that look well. "Or I shall decree that you shall have to wear a dress!"
"Well that sounds like an ill turn for your most loyal follower."
She swayed beneath his wounded look. "Oh stop! All right, all right. I won't make you wear a dress."
"Ever?"
"Ever, Bryar."
"Promise?"
"Oh!" She threw up her hands, and her crown almost went flying. "You're so silly!" She resembled a perturbed fairy so much that he had to smile again, ruining the act. Luckily, she failed to notice. "All right, I'll promise." She spun to face him. Smoothing his expression once more, he caught that mischievous glint crossing her gaze again. She snapped her mouth shut, pausing. Then she forged onward. "I promise I shall never make you wear a dress."
"I am relieved," he answered flatly, straightening. "But why did you hesitate?"
A smile curved her lips as she brushed the hair from her eyes. "No reason."
"Why'd you pause?" he asked again.
"Why do you ask?" she returned innocently.
He tipped his head to one side. "Because I know you, and I know that look you get when your cleverness gets the best of you. So you might as well tell me."
"Or what?" she grinned.
"Or I'll have to torture it out of you," he answered, moving slowly to his feet. "With tickle-torture."
She gasped and backed away. "You wouldn't! And besides, you know I'd never tell!"
"Tell what?"
"Nothing! That's all you'll get from me, Bryar NicBurr, if you lay a hand on me, and you know it!"
He paused, considering. "Indeed. How is it your tongue never ceases all hours of the day, but the moment you have mischief in your head, your lips are locked tighter than a King's treasury?"
She giggled and danced away. He leaned back across the tree. "Your halo is crooked," he noted.
"It's a crown, silly."
"And what are you queen of?"
She righted the flowers and plucked a few more. "I am Queen of this clearing, I think." She spread her arms wide and twirled in a circle.
"You think?"
"I know," she amended without stumbling.
"Ah," he said. He sidled closer. "And your kingdom is perfect. But what of the dangers that lie beyond?"
She stilled. "Dangers?"
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, turning her to point out where the clearing crept back into the shadowed woods. "Beyond these lands are dangers. Who knows what lurks out there? What sort of beasts crash through the dark just beyond those trees? What if they invaded your kingdom? Who will protect you from such things?"
She turned to him. "You will."
"Of course." He let his arm fall. "But protection comes with a price."
Her brows knit. "What sort of price?"
"Tell me why you hesitated."
Her mouth fell open and she laughed, then glanced away. "And then you'll protect me?"
"Yes."
"Forever?"
"Forever is a long time. I don't think I can live that long."
"Hm, me neither. So how about for as long as I live?"
"All right."
"Promise."
"All right. I promise to protect you from whatever evils lurk in the shadows, for as long as you live."
She studied him a moment, but he seemed earnest. Promises were weighty things, to the Fae.
She nodded. "Now your turn," he remarked.
A grin split her face once more. "You won't like it."
"Tell me."
"This won't end well."
"Just tell me."
"In fact, I know exactly how it will end," she giggled.
"Say it."
"You'll get mad."
"Just say it, Pailei." The annoyance in his tone was rising.
"And then you'll chase me."
"Say it."
"And I'll run, screaming and laughing, all the way back to Maggie's doorstep."
"Tell me!" he hissed.
She rocked back and forth. "I promised that I'd never make you wear a dress." She giggled and bit her lip. "I never said anything about skirts."
His mouth fell open at her devious revelation. Then he snapped it shut, and advanced.
"I knew it!" she shrieked, turning heel to make her escape.
He chased her all the way through the woods, her flower crown lost amid the trees. And by the time they reached Maggie's doorstep and she cried peace, they were both windblown, with sides aching from lack of breath and abundance of laughter.


Pailei ~MixAndMatch-Stock
Bryar ~homnoct-stock
Flowers ~Neriah-stock ~clandestine-stock ~markopolio-stock
Mushrooms ~Oaken-Dove
Rock ~neverFading-stock
Background ~HappyAngel-STOCK
Frame ~scribblin
Brushes ~spiritsighs-stock



As always, my words and my muses belong to me.