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.