She could either be very good or very bad but would never, ever be both because her body had room for only one.
important psas. character development challenge.
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…. wow i didn’t —
i’m — jfc yes.
(imagine her pulling a sirius and calling one of the children by their parent’s name.)
She found him through a crack in the door and wrapped with the scent of sugar and cheese.
Naked as the day he was born, sleeping as soundly as a baby and more youthful than the season of summer itself, he laid out tribute and played into her faerie greed and she’d fallen for it easily enough by storing as much sugar as she could in her cheeks and taking whatever else she could in her arms.
Naked, he was.
Milk and ocean, muscle and curve; her summer boy.
“Idiot,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “Why’re ye naked..?”
She knew, just as she imagined a bleached band across her finger and apples greeting her near the brine of the sea. “Och.” It was never really a faerie’s life, even if it was in jest.
She left her summer boy snoring with his how’s-yer-father sticking out, a happy face conjured by impish magick painted on the underside. She left him with a ghosting kiss to his lips and his neck and his sugar and cheese arranged neatly on his chest.
The word it spelled out was, naturally, “No.”
A look of surprise as great as Jay Gatsby settled onto her face, one in which her eyebrows arched, her mouth became slack and her voice caught in her throat.
T’was a dead noble cause to ditch any and all formalities (though any she’d carried with her were comprised of utterly false architecture), the faerie did award him this much. She brushed the middle of her lip with the tip of her thumb and let her eyes travel southward before she spoke again.
“… Well, since ye brought it up, if ye promise nae tae break me in half, I’ll promise tae nae turn yer boaby polka dotted an’ it’ll b’ a happy marriage!”
She let out a low, amused hum when she reached to take the daisy chain. Petals as smooth as butter to be worn as a crown — Persephone in summer.
Indeed she did place the small circlet of flowers into her messy hair and pointed her dirty foot at the woman, cautiously gazing at her. “Aye, I’ll consider this offer, considerin’ yer speakin’ m’ type o’ language, bu’ I cannae bear ye a son, sae yer goin’ tae have tae dae tha’ much.”
“O, long-nosed knight — yer offer o’ riches does grea’ly intrigue me, bu’ if I’m tae take yer name an’ lifestyle as mine, we’re goin’ tae have tae discuss bedroom manners…an’ mayhaps any other offerings ye have tae offer.”
Poking her head from the crumbling niche of her home, the faerie looked thoughtful at the proposition — though she was greatly weighing the odds.
Marriage seemed as if it had its perks, but she had never really been a woman of sharing means and she had liked the name bestowed upon her during her birth. Marriage was stagnancy, stability, clipped wings and —
“Are ye writin’ a prance-about bard’s tale or are ye proposin’?” Sniffing and scoffing, Freydis put her chin into the palm of her hand and squinted toward the sky.
“Tell ye whit —”
And here began the path of tediousness —
“—ye find me a black unicorn an’ I will grea’ly consider sooch a proposal, all righ’?”
A comment that was worthy of a groan.
It rumbled up from her throat when she tilted her head back, light and croaking and amused. Her hands came to slap against her face in a fashion similar to a gesture made when playing peekaboo.
Where was she to take this?
“Och —” Clever, titchy little witch. She wasn’t sure if the comment was quirky or plain odd. “— If yer guid, they might get tae explore th’ forest.”
A little grin formed on her face as she made a grandiose gesture to the space of grass next to her. “I wouldnae b’ opposed tae company from such a darlin’, wee child. We’ll dance ‘til mornin’, ye’ll ne’er ken th’ sun rose.”
For once, the faerie looked thoughtful. Legs kicking lazily at the air and the inside of her cheek being sucked on, she gave it a beat or two to register in her brain.
“Cannae say ‘s I have .. Have ye come tae give me incentive?”