Becoming Fae
More Royalty

Portals sucked.

It felt like being squished and stretched at the same time while also feeling like you were set on fire and taking a merry little swim in the Arctic Ocean. Oh, and you were spinning faster than you could comprehend, which, I found out immediately upon being spit out on the other side, was what the prince had been warning me about.

Aim for the bushes.

Freaking jerk.

I stumbled to the bushes and tossed my cookies, every bad name I could think of and then some I created going through my mind as I retched and heaved until there was nothing left, and my head stopped spinning.

“Here,” Mal said, handing me a skin of water so I could rinse my mouth out.

I swished and spit before standing straight to find the prince looking on amused, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. I drained the skin and glared at him.

“Fae,” Mal warned me, feeling the rising anger in our bond.

I bared my teeth and threw the empty skin at the prince, hitting him in the face. The amusement was gone, replaced by shock, maybe. He was certainly stunned, but I think also slightly offended. Not my problem.

“Here we go,” Mal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Did you just strike the prince?” a guard demanded.

“Nope. I threw something at him. If he failed to get out of the way in time, that’s on him,” I replied, flexing my hands to keep myself from actually hitting him. “Considering the complete lack of manners the imbecile has, I’d say he’s lucky.”

“Fae,” Mal sighed again.

“What are you going to do? Flap your wings at me?” the prince snorted.

I held up my hands, showing the sparks of my unique electricity that danced over my skin and the small flames left in their trail.

“If you wish to one day be able to call this kingdom yours, I would stop talking if I were you,” I warned him.

“You dare threaten Crown Prince Farngrath?!” the guard said, putting his hand on his sword.

“I believe it was a warning,” I said.

“What is going on out here?” a man said as he walked through the gardens towards us.

He looked like a college professor, if they wore loose silk shirts that looked like they came from the Middle Ages and bright blue pants that looked more like my yoga tights that I missed so much. The look was completed by a dagger on his hip, held there by a wide belt that secured the shirt, which was thankfully long enough to hide anything that could be considered ‘inappropriate’ due to his choice in pants. I shuddered at the thought.

“A disturbing lack of etiquette,” I snapped. “Look, I’m here for a reason and I would very much like to get to it before I actually do end up decking Prince Shovington over there.”

“Fae,” Mal grabbed my elbow.

“What, Mal?” I rubbed my temples to sooth the dull throb in my head.

“I love you, but shut up,” he said, sinking to his knees.

“What are you doing, you weirdo?” I groaned.

“That’s the king,” he hissed, and I blinked and looked at the man critically.

“Casual Tuesday? I like the way you think,” I finally said to him, making him smile and the prince rolled his eyes.

“Who might you be?” the king asked.

“Queen Apparent Faella of the Demon Lands, princess of the Sidhe and Lord of the House of Immail,” I answered. “Yes, I’m aware that ‘Queen Apparent’ is an unusual title. It’s a little confusing, to be honest, but that’s not why I’m here, gracing your foliage with my lunch.”

“Princess of the Sidhe. That means Queen Justine and King Quinn found the lost princess,” the king said with a slow smile on his face.

“Also a confusing story,” I nodded.

“There have been rumors, even here, but I admit, I didn’t think them true,” he said. “How did you become the Queen of the Demon Lands, though?”

“There’s a lot of ‘confusing’ and more than a little bit of ‘it’s complicated’,” I said flatly.

“Clearly,” he said, looking me over slowly. “Very curious.”

“That’s the general feeling,” I shrugged. “You kind of get used to it.”

“I see. Well, please, let’s take this inside where it’s more comfortable,” he said, holding an arm out towards an interesting structure.

It looked... well, for lack of a better word, it looked like Bilbo Baggins’ home in the Lord of the Rings movies, only bigger. Once we went inside, I learned that the structure was actually made of stone and went below the surface of the ground into a large, underground ravine that had been carved by a river, complete with personal waterfall. It was much brighter than I would have thought, the light quality feeling more natural than artificial and it was very spacious, if not significantly smaller than the palace in Royal City.

Everyone here looked to be happy and serene, except for the pushy prince, and it created a comfortable feeling that made me shake my wings as if I could dislodge the negativity that I’d been carrying around lately. The servants all smiled softly and either bowed or curtsied as we passed, clearly at ease despite being around royalty. A nice change from Royal City and the camp, where everyone stiffened and grew nervous.

“Here we are,” the king said, pushing open a door and walking into a parlor with shelves of books, a pair of desks that were clearly his-and-hers, and soft looking chairs and sofas, plush carpets, and a cart of goodies to eat and different liquids in crystal decanters. “Would you like something to eat after that... upheaval in the gardens?”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” I glared at the prince.

“You’ll have to forgive my son. He can come off as quite uncouth at times,” the king said, pouring himself a drink before taking a seat and gesturing for Mal and me to do the same.

“Shoving people through a portal with no real warning is not simply ‘uncouth’, but I’m not here to discuss his lack of manners,” I sat down in a chair that would allow my wings to rest around the back comfortably.

“I’m right here,” the prince muttered.

“I wish you weren’t,” I smiled sweetly and turned back to his father. “I’m here to discuss the Vale. Specifically, your methods for surviving inside of it.”

“That’s... an odd thing to speak of,” the king mused. “Do you have business in the Vale?”

“That remains to be seen,” I replied. “I’ve recently come across some information that... Well, to say the source is trustworthy might be a far stretch, but the subject is worthy of investigation at the very least.”

“To enter the Vale, though?” the king lifted a perfect eyebrow. “That is an incredibly dangerous endeavor, your highness.”

“Fae, please,” I held up a hand. “I’m new enough to the title that it still feels ill-fitting.”

“The Vale is not something you simply trek about in on a whim. It’s far more dangerous than anything you’re likely prepared to experience,” he said. “No one can truly prepare for the Vale and its secrets.”

“So, you don’t have anything to help us in this? Information or a map?” I asked.

“The things that call the Vale home are vicious. Primal. Very little, if anything, separates them from rabid beasts, despite the appearances of some,” he sat his glass down on a table and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Bringing so much as a drop of water into the Vale from the Sidhe will send them into a furious frenzy. You’re very presence will be enough to garner attention you wish you didn’t have, but the very last thing you want is to earn more.”

“We’re trying to reach the heart of the Vale,” I said and both elves went statue still.

Mal and I shared a look of confusion before the king shook his head.

“Then I strongly suggest you give up now,” he said as the prince sank into another chair, paler than before. “The Vale is a wild place, but the heart is something else entirely.”

“I’ve been told,” I nodded. “That doesn’t change the fact that I need to know more.”

“You sound like Queen Justine,” he sighed in defeat. “Very well. The thing that makes the Vale so different is magic. Wild magic, to be precise. Uncontrollable and violent when its territory is invaded. There are steps to be taken that could... lessen your odds of death once in the Vale, though. Occasionally, we must venture in ourselves and many of those parties return mostly intact more often than not.”

“That sounds jolly,” I muttered.

“I’m not sure how well it will work, though. You wear magic on your skin like most people wear clothes,” he gestured to the markings. “Magic that I have never seen before yet feels oddly familiar somehow.”

“Unfortunately, such strange oddities are common with me involved,” I rolled my eyes.

“I say this because once you enter the Vale, under no circumstances should you use magic. Even your Bond is a risk.”

“Oh lovely,” I groaned. “Once a walking homing beacon...”

“Is there another way? We could fly over and drop right into the heart, maybe,” Mal said.

“That’s not how the magic of the Vale works. You must enter the Vale in order to find your way,” the king shook his head.

“Every attempt to map the Vale has failed because the way is never the same,” the prince replied. “It’s like it senses where you want to go and does everything to prevent you from reaching your destination.”

“Sentient woods full of deadly things that want to eat me. What could go wrong?” I mused.

-----

After much more warning from both royals, we finally secured very detailed directions on how to prepare for our journey into the Vale, including a very long list of items one does not take with them, which included rope, leather, and, oddly enough, shoes of any kind.

We were given a room to rest in for the night, which had fallen while we were with the king, and I was impressed with the amenities.

“I think this should be an absolute last resort,” I said as I looked over the list and instructions while airing out my wings to dry after a shower.

“I think this shouldn’t even remain on the table,” Mal said, bringing me a bowl of fruits to snack on. “I know Naz is going to have a fit, but we didn’t know that the Vale was brimming with wild magic before now.”

“Is it that different?” I asked him, picking up a strawberry.

“It’s volatile at best,” he nodded. “Wild magic faded in the Sidhe long ago, leaving the people more civil, but all of those stories on earth about the horrible things the fae did? Those exist for a reason and that reason is wild magic.”

“Noted,” I shuddered and put the list down. “So, we’re back to the more strategic approach. All for the best, I guess. I don’t really know what to do with the family I already found, adding more to the list of relatives I have to constantly manage seems like more work than I care to take on at present.”

“Which brings up a point I would like to make,” Mal said, sitting down and picking up a slice of apple. “When we finally get word from Tony about his lady love-.”

“Please, don’t say that again,” I held up a hand.

“-How are we going to recognize her?” he smirked.

“Good point. It would be something right up the lane of paranoia to have decoys, in case someone tried to do something,” I nodded.

“Also, Tony might be a willing ally, but even he admitted he’s not very powerful. Certainly not against the others,” he said. “Taking her for Tony not only puts a target on his back, but ours too, and we’re not exactly prepared to fight a wet paper bag.”

“I’m aware and I’ve lost a fair amount of sleep over it,” I sighed and rubbed my temples again.

“Do you think we might want to try a more diplomatic approach? Ask for cooperation before committing acts of war?” he asked.

“I doubt he’ll give her up. You heard what Tony said. He hordes things. Giving something up goes against everything greedy about him,” I said. “It makes sense to try for diplomacy, but considering the other party, I think it would be a wasted effort that will ultimately do more harm than good.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he admitted after a moment. “Plus, demons aren’t exactly brimming with diplomacy.”

“I wish I had more answers,” I complained, flopping into a chair and folding my wings. “It seems that the more I try to go forward, the more question I have, and the less sense can be made of anything. And we are grossly unprepared for what’s coming.”

“We’ll need to double down when we get back,” he nodded solemnly. “Now that we aren’t dividing our attention so much, we need to get serious.”

“More than usual,” I agreed. “I’m nervous. So much can go wrong is I make the smallest mistake and I really don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just improvising right now and praying no one notices how full of crap I am.”

“You aren’t full of crap and people already know you don’t know what you're doing,” Mal rolled his eyes.

“That was completely opposite of helpful, jerk,” I shoved him and got up to go to bed. “Sleep on the couch.”

“What? Hold on a second!” he laughed, following me. “I meant to say that everyone knows you're young and inexperienced, but they’re still following you. They still admire you because you’re taking every effort to make sure that they survive.”

“War means casualties, Mal,” I said.

“It does and as horrible as it is, they all know that and they’re still there,” he said, sitting on the bed as I laid on my side. “You inspire devotion, Fae. You always have.”

“I’m one step away from insanity, it feels like,” I muttered.

“Greatness and insanity go hand-in-hand,” he said. “Galileo was called crazy. So were Beethoven, DaVinci, Van Gogh.”

“Van Gogh lived in an asylum,” I pointed out. “He cut off his ear and sent it to his crush.”

“Okay, bad example,” he chuckled. “But they all did amazing things. Astronomy changed, music was revolutionized, technology improved, and art shifted. Alexander the Great was called nuts because he wanted to conquer the world. He actually managed a large portion of it before he died. And what about Queen Elizabeth?”

“You made your point,” I looked at him with a smile. “I just don’t feel very... qualified.”

“You are more than qualified,” he kissed me softly. “Go to sleep, love. We’ll need to leave early tomorrow.”

“By portal. Joyful,” I muttered, making him chuckle.

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