To the waters and the wild; with a faery, hand in hand

[prince_of_vere]

In the fields of Vere, not far from the breath of the sea, were the downs and valleys known in Vere as the Fairy Meadows.

They were cursed, it was said. Though the ruins of an ancient civilization peppered the region, no new buildings had been built in years. No farms, no homes, no wayside inns for travelers. Not until the ground rose and grew rockier, turning into the wild, rich, rolling farmland and forests of Vere.

The fairy meadows were serene and untouched, rippling with wildflowers. Veretians avoided them, even the young and reckless, as everyone knew a story of some second cousin or nephew who had thought to challenge the old legends and who had never returned.

Laurent liked things that way.

He wandered through the sunny fields, drawn to the warmth and sunshine of the human world. On the rare occasions that he encountered an intruder, he'd arranged a shock or scare for them that would send them back home thoroughly superstitious. Some of the other fae favored stealing humans, keeping them as playthings, slaves, or adopting them as children. Laurent preferred, as he always had, to keep his distance. Humans were noisy, rude, and gauche.

Enjoying his stroll through the fields, he stopped short and caught his breath as he almost tripped over a human.

A young man. Fast asleep in a ring of pale blue flowers. Laurent's flowers. Handsome, golden, with long dark-golden lashes and lips like cherries.

And, what was worst, he was crowned by a ring of white butterflies, wings fluttering softly with a sort of entranced pleasure.

Laurent's mouth went dry.

There was an ancient prophecy, which he'd never believed, that the true king of his fairy realm was a human, a stranger, who would come to them in a ring of flowers, marked by a crown of white butterflies.

It was nonsense. Dangerous nonsense, since a human could never understand the nuances of ruling a fairy realm. A human would only trample all the beauty and grace of Laurent's kingdom.

Clenching his fists, Laurent studied the human's sleeping face, trying to come up with a quick plan. He could pretend he'd seen nothing. That was easy. Risky, though. If some other fairy encountered this human, which they perfectly well might, and if he kept his butterfly-magnetizing powers... Laurent needed to keep him away from flower rings. And butterflies.

He knew what he had to do.

Opening a portal, Laurent pulled the human through it. Careful, gentle, so that he landed in a soft, waiting bed in an empty room.

The room was cold, as was everything in Laurent's realm. He expected that his captive would wake quickly from that alone. White sheets, cresting like foam, covered a spacious bed. The four posters were veiled by panes of lacework frost and twined with sprays of ice-white honeysuckle and night-blooming jasmine.

And, standing just beyond that, was the fairy prince himself, with a crown of silver upon his pale blond hair. More fingers of frost reached over his shoulders and up from his cuffs, forming snow-white embroidery upon his dark blue tunic. Only the bloom of roses in his cheeks gentled the frigidity of his appearance. Watching the stranger--his captive, the intruder--closely, Laurent waited.

Comments

[gentry]

Richard Campbell Gansey the Third was born a king.

At least, that was what those who met him said. Tall, handsome, charming... he was everything cultured and gold, turning the heads of most everyone he passed. Sun-kissed skin and perfect dark hair that fell in just the right way, stunning hazel eyes with flecks of gold, a smile that broke hearts. Yet he was also smart, considerate, and pragmatic when the situation called for it. That's a man that'll make something of himself, they murmured and nodded.

Gansey, however, was far more eccentric than his handsome appearance suggested. An insufferable traveller and insomniac, Gansey was a king in that no one could tell him what to do or where to go. Why stay in one place when there was so much world to see? So many people to meet? Such culture? He was also quite taken with the notion of fairies and leylines, with the otherworldly and interesting. There was no way he could be satisfied, sitting in his wonderfully furnished castle that he would one day inheret from his father, as his father did from his father. So Gansey left, adventured, looking for ruins to study and for nature to bask in despite his parents pleading for him to come home and settle down every letter that managed to find its way to him. Gansey would have none of that.

Especially not when he discovered the little gem that was Vere. The lands were stunning, more breathtaking than any he'd ever seen, and the young scholar was drawn into them. The people had warned him, of course. Fairies. Missing children. Another world among those beautiful sprawling hills. Yet Gansey was not afraid. How could something so beautiful, so wonderful, be bad? He had booked a room at the inn with his friend and traveling companion, Ronan Lynch, who had been close to self destruction after the untimely death of his father. There had been whispers of a magician in these lands that could answer questions by speaking to cards—Ronan had went in search of him while Gansey explored the lands, took notes in his books and admired everything he came across.

Truly, he hadn't felt the least bit tired until he saw the ring of flowers. They were enticing, the loveliest shade of blue he'd ever seen, and he told himself that he'd nap for only an hour. There was much else to do. He'd been sketching the local flora in his books, pressing flowers, to compare to the ones back home and possibly crossbreed to see what came of it. It was a peaceful nap. The sun was warm against his skin, like a blanket, and the butterflies did not disturb him when they settled upon him.

So, naturally, slowly waking to the feeling of cold wasn't nearly so pleasant. Gansey always vastly preferred warmth, blossoming in balmy areas, stretched out and soaking sun whenever the chance arose. Even if he was a creature of night because sleep was difficult with his many nerves and anxieties, sunlight was a kiss he could never turn down.

His first instinct was that the sun went down. Yet, beneath him, there were almost certainly sheets. Stirring, the young man stretched out like a cat, still giving off airs of being lithe even if his build was square as opposed to lean.

"Hm...?" A soft moan from his throat as he found his new, more comfortable position. Yet it was still too cold.

Sheets meant that he had never left the room at all, and that he'd stayed back in their rooms to sleep. Exploring had been a dream. "Ronan," he sighed, eyes still shut as he rubbed a hand lazily across his them, "Ronan, did you leave the window open again...?" His roommate had an awful habit of coming back drunk and leaving all the windows open, before promptly passing out on the floor. Curse the man, he deserved his hangover if he was going to make Gansey chilly.

Frustrated, he sat up with something of a pout, eyes open to reveal hazel and gold. Only for him to, of course, meet gazes with a very beautiful fairy prince. A man right out of a storybook. Fair hair and intensely blue eyes, like ice, a crown of silver and white-as-snow skin. It was the sort of beauty that would make a man's soul ascend out of his body at the mere sight.

"Ah," Gansey said, stupidly. This was new. He didn't usually wake to visions of incredible loveliness. Usually it was Ronan slumped over a toilet.

A dream. This was the dream, then, and he was still asleep in the field, where it was probably getting late.

"I see. Dreaming, of course. Excuse me, Sir, I don't wish to be rude but I must wake up. It's been a pleasure." So he dropped back down onto the bed, blinking owlishly at the ceiling, because he was not sleepy. Yet, if he wasn't sleepy, how was he supposed to go back to sleep to wake up in reality...? A conundrum.

[prince_of_vere]

How distasteful. Gauche. Rude. Laurent narrowed his eyes irritably at the stranger in the bed.

It only occurred to him now that he hadn't really planned past here. He didn't know what he was going to do with a clumsy, rude human. Enslaving it or forcing it into any sort of use or cage seemed all equally distasteful. But he also wasn't about to let it go free in realms where it might re-encounter flower rings or butterflies.

Laurent made a disgusted sound and turned away. He had better things to do with his day than stay around here to babysit some human. As long as the human didn't decide to try damaging or stealing anything, Laurent didn't see any need to bother with him.

The rest of the room around them was similarly lovely, with as much comfort as could be found in the realm of ice and flowers. Pale blue pillows cushioned silver-white furniture, draped here and there with soft velvet blankets in similar white. Cold though the realm was, Laurent and his people tended to love warmth, when it could be made or imported.

He turned toward the door, intending to leave and return to the familiar safety of his library.

[gentry]

It was not a dream.

Gansey had realized that much when the rest of his senses caught up to him. Opting to play possum instead, he studied the room as much as his 'sleep' position would allow. It was utterly lavish, not unlike the way his parents loved to decorate back at home, and didn't suit his personal tastes very much. While Gansey was a creature of luxury in certain ways, he was also somewhat eccentric about the spaces he maintained. Usually messy, a mishmash of things he found to be interesting, comforts leaning toward richer colors like orange and brown.

Nevertheless, it was a beautiful room. Even if it was chilly, there were ways around it with thick blankets and pillows. Functional as well as tasteful.

The young man sat up again, wide awake. No point in staying here, certainly not, when it seemed that he'd stumbled into something interesting. Pushing off the bed, he stood, showing off his full height in a way being horizontal simply couldn't do. Brushing a hand through his hair, his gaze swept the room before landing on the back of the prince, curious.

"Please, don't leave," he said, voice moving from airy and a little grumpy to smooth, velvety and dripping with honey, all merely because that was how he spoke and not because he wanted something. Though he did want something, "I'm afraid I'm a bit... perplexed. Where is this?"

[prince_of_vere]

Laurent's pulse pounded in his throat, startled by just how exquisite the human was. He was uncommonly appealing, that was certain, but the vulnerable serenity of the human in sleep had not prepared Laurent for the broad-shouldered height of him, with an entrancing voice and an unfamiliar accent. He was rumpled and warm, everything that Laurent wasn't, and the alien nature of him was entrancing rather than jarring.

Showing none of his reaction, Laurent arched a flawless brow at him. "This is my realm. And you've wasted enough of my time already."

Stepping through the crystalline flower curtain that served for a door, Laurent started along the walkway outside and down the steps.

The realm was subterranean, or otherworldly, and perhaps both. Tall, massive stalagmites reached toward the cavern's ceiling, draped with walkways and residences like vines. They were in a grand city, all ice and impossible nocturnal flowers, and the city was designed vertically above a pristine blue-green lake, so clear that you could see the crystal formations along the bottom, which might have been twenty feet or two hundred feet underwater.

Along the roof of the vast cavern was a scattering of glowing lights like stars, varying from blue to green to perfect snow white, crystals and fungi all luminescent. Each residence was set upon or carved into the massive stalactite columns, leaving only a few rare stretches of bare stone without gilt or vermeil or flowers to decorate them.

[gentry]

The handsome young man's answer cleared none of his confusion. In fact, it only raised more questions—how had he wasted his time when he'd scant been awake for more than five minutes? Had they met before? No.... if something had happened between his falling asleep and then waking up, he wasn't privy to it.

What else could Gansey do but follow? The room held no answers either, and while the angelic prince was rude, he could speak. Thus, in theory, he could say something of value. Why was Gansey here? How could Gansey go home? What exactly was this realm, and was it possible for him to explore it? Adventure? Take notes? Read books? Learn the culture? Were there ruins? Was this ruins? Who was their leader? Was it a monarchy? What—?

His thoughts were slowed when he came into contact with more ethereal beauty. It was truly like nothing he'd ever seen before. Enchanted, Gansey looked around, eyes drawn to beautiful flora and incredible stones—stalagmites—luminescent petals and trails of vegetation. It was ... nature, in bloom, in winter. A complexion of oddities and beauty.

Stunned, Gansey stopped, reaching out to brush his fingers against the velvety petals of a flower that looked similar to the flowers he'd fallen asleep next to. Without his noticing, a glittering white butterfly lazed past him, then, almost as if entranced, decided to settle into his hair instead of fluttering along.

A mild thought amidst all the wonder: If such a place as this exists, Ronan may find his magician yet.

"Your realm," he finally managed to voice, "is beautiful." Yet there was something missing; glancing up, he saw those light speckled across the roof of the cavern. No sun. No natural warm, except that his own body produced. And it seemed to be working overtime in a place like this. His flesh was heated, flush and warm, all of those days soaking in the sun paying off.

[prince_of_vere]

Laurent glanced back, not particularly interested in the human's opinion, but then he saw the butterfly and sighed irritably. It must have come along with him.

"You," Laurent said, climbing the steps again to stand in front of him. "Hold still." Reaching out, he cupped a gentle hand around the butterfly, pulling it from Gansey's hair. "Don't belong here," he finished, having been speaking primarily to the butterfly, with 'hold still' as only an interjection to the irritating human.

He opened a loop in the air, a tiny window back to the Veretian meadows, and pulled it over the butterfly, then sealed the tiny window shut with the butterfly on the other side. Where it belonged. It must have snuck along with the human when Laurent pulled it over.

[gentry]

Confused, Gansey did as the fairy prince bid, staying still as he caught... a butterfly? A thing that didn't strike Gansey as particularly out of place in such a magical realm. And he watched as the man.... did something quite strange, opened a portal, and let it free back in. Those fields. Those, Gansey recognized.

"Fascinating," he said, brightening with the show of wonderful magic. He almost seemed to glow, eyes bright with interest and wonder. A thousand questions were just bursting at his seams and it took everything in his power not to ask all of them at once.

"So, all the stories are true," was what he finally settled on saying, a pretty pink flush settling over his handsome features. "I hope you don't think me ungrateful to see such marvels, but... well, I'm afraid I don't understand why you've brought me here." The fairy prince didn't seem too keen on talking but Gansey was still going to try, gently imploring as he took a few steps closer to the man.

"You did, yes? Brought me here." It didn't seem like his being there was much a surprise. Just an annoyance.

[prince_of_vere]

"You," Laurent said, accusingly, "laid down in one of my fairy rings. It's a door. Did you not understand that? Surely that's widely known, even in the human world. You were blocking my door."

Irritable, though the answer was not even half the truth, Laurent resumed his way down the steps. He went several layers down, past a variety of arches and bridges, and strode into a vast hall on one of the lower, thicker levels of the stalagmite. It was a library, with enormous windows on every wall that wasn't lined with books. The place was itself three stories tall, and strung with stairs and walkways along the walls. Unlike the blue and white frost of the exterior space, the library was wrought all in gold and copper, with soft blue rugs and ample couches.