Wing and Bone

Bursting through the intricately carved doors of the throne room, Caoimhe took flight, her gossamer wings scattering opalescent colors on everything she flew over. Her characteristically wild red hair streamed behind her, like the flame of a candle being blown out. Her wings flitted so fast, the gust from them made the butterfly she passed spin head over abdomen, nearly causing it to fall out of the sky. Anyone watching would have worried she might hit her head on the branches as she weaved between them, though she was so used to this path through the tree that she could follow it twice as fast with her eyes shut and not touch a single leaf. Why did everyone think they had a right to her time, her schedule, her destiny, for the gods' sake! True, she was the Princess of the Pixies, and that came with certain obligations and duties. But shouldn't it come with respect and privileges, too? It seemed to her that the only "privilege" she was afforded was wealth. Which she could happily do without, if only she could rid herself of her title and status. The fact that her parents hadn't been able to conceive another heir, however, made that impossible. "Who would take the throne after us if you don't?" She heard their condescending question in her head every time something like this happened. It wasn't as if the suitors her parents had chosen for her weren't attractive males. They were the most attractive, most well-placed political allies her parents had. They just weren't.....Him. She wasn't stupid or naive enough to think that he would ever even acknowledge her outside of a ball or political discussion. Caoimhe had resigned herself at the early age of 13 (26, in human years) to the understanding that she simply did not exist to him in any romantic capacity. Sidhe and Fairy did not... well, fit. At 3 inches tall, her head wouldn't even break even with his pinky finger. There was no way a relationship like that was even physically possible, let alone emotionally. So it wasn't just a taboo for the Elves of the High Courts of Faery to fall in love with Pixies, the winged fey the humans referred to as fairies (what they called "pixies" were actually sprites). It just wasn't even considered an option. Centuries ago, Pixies could change their size at will. Not all of them, but the royal court could. A 3 inch Pixie could instantly become a 6 foot human, and back again. They were the spies of the fey in the human realm, since their wings would become intricate tattoos on their backs, should they so choose, and then they could pass as humans. It was much simpler than the glamour that other fey races needed to get around in the human world. But that all changed when Queen Titania closed the doors to the human realm and forbade any fey from returning there. As queen of the Seelie Court, all Light fey were honor bound to comply, and being honor bound is much stronger than any human restraint. No Seelie could go against her decree, even if they tried. So, with the shifting Pixies now without a place in the fey world, they became spies between the Courts. This led to wars, and greater distrust than the Seelie and the Unseelie already had for each other. They became seen as a menace that needed to be wiped out. Which is what the Courts did. All shifting Pixies who were found out were captured and either torn apart and their pieces sold as ingredients for potions, or they were tortured for a century or two until they broke and were discarded into the Twisted Wood as new additions to the Sluagh, no longer recognizable as Pixies. No shifting Pixies remain. As the Princess of the Pixies, she knew their entire history. She had better, since at least 10 years of her youth had been devoted to memorizing the Histories of the Fey. Her parents always said that even lesser queens needed to know everything about their allies and enemies. They said it was in her best interest to know more about the other races' histories than they even did, so Caoimhe could be a wise and ruthless leader. So she even knew how the first of the shifting Pixies had learned to do it, and she had tried to learn it herself, to no avail. A young Pixie could dream, though. And dream she did. She dreamed about flying to his shoulder and wrapping herself up in his long, silvery hair. She imagined falling asleep there would be the softest, most restful place she could ever experience. She dreamed of flying at his side in battle, her Pixie magic aiding his sword and armor, keeping him safe from harm while making him the deadliest foe on any battlefield. She spent the lonely hours of the night, when she would wake from a bad dream, imagining the things they would do together in the dark. The feel of his body against hers, fitting perfectly together, their lips gently brushing over the most intimate parts of each other's skin. If only she could shift... Caoimhe was interrupted from her reverie by the sound of rough footsteps on gravel. She looked out from her seat on the highest branch to see a Sidhe male storming towards the bench at the base of the tree. And not just any male. It was Him! Gwydion Quicksilver was the most handsome male of any species she had ever laid eyes on. At 6 feet 10 inches, Gwydion was average in height for a Sidhe. His smooth, pale skin was almost ashen, though it didn't make him look sickly. There was plenty of pink in his lips and cheeks to say otherwise. His hair was the color of freshly fallen snow on a moonlit night, silver tinsel highlights mixed with blueish gray and crisp white.. It sparkled and shimmered, as though encrusted with diamonds, and it fell in a straight waterfall down below his shoulderblades. Her favorite of all his features was his eyes. They were the color of brushed silver, not quite a mirror but almost. They always seemed sad, bordering on angry. It made her want to know what could cause such beautiful eyes to be so melancholy. She shifted on the branch to better hear what he was muttering under his breath when a petal from her elaborate heliotrope dress broke free and fluttered softly down in front of his face. Since no heliotrope grew anywhere nearby, Gwyndion's head snapped up in the direction that the petal fell from. "Who's up there?" Gwyndion thundered, with the power of a winter gale in his voice. "I will not be spied upon!" Startled, Caoimhe flew gently down to hover in front of his face, her own face lowered the way Sidhe expected all "lesser" fey to show respect. "My apologies, Lord Quicksilver. I did not intend to spy, but rather I was in my own rage against my parents and had flown to the top of this tree to get away. It's where I go to think." This seemed to appease the Sidhe and his demeanor relaxed into his usual, stand-offish brooding. "I see," he replied. "And what would the Princess of the Pixies have to be upset about? Especially a child such as yourself." "I am no child, sir!" Caoimhe retorted, her head snapping up and her eyes locking on his face. "I am just as much an adult as you or any other fey, though I may not have experienced as many years as you. And for that I am grateful! I did not have to live through the closing off of the human realm, and therefore do not long for it as so many of you pretend not to do." She hadn't meant to bring such venom to her voice, but with the events of that morning she couldn't help it. She was tired of being underestimated. Qwyndion's mouth twitched in a way she had never seen before. The Sidhe male never smiled. His mouth seemed to be able to do nothing but stay fixed in a permanent frown. And yet, he clearly had a bit of an upward curve to his mouth now. Was he entertained by her outburst? "It is rare that the littlest of the fey have such conviction," Gwyndion replied. "Perhaps that's a luxury only afforded in youth. You were the last to be born to the fey, if you remember. The next youngest of us was born a hundred years before you." Lowering her face once more, Caoimhe responded, "I am aware. That does not make me any less capable or adult." "I apologize for my previous comment. " Caoimhe was shocked. The Sidhe never apologize to anyone, especially lesser fey. He continued, "My question still stands. What do you have to be upset about, little Pixie?" "It is nothing for one such as yourself to concern yourself with, my lord. It is a simple matter for the Pixie court." Her reply was just shy of sarcastic, colored with enough contempt to pique Qwyndion's interest. "I wouldn't call myself concerned, Princess Caoimhe." At that she couldn't help but snap her head up once more. To the Sidhe, Pixies were little more than bugs. They saw them as empty-headed gardeners, and no more. But he had used her name. And title! This was more respect than she had heard any other Sidhe offer any lesser fey, let alone a Pixie. Gwyndion locked eyes with her as he continued, "I would say I'm more intrigued by the idea of a Pixie with enough sense of self outside of her flowers to feel angry about court matters." Suddenly Caoimhe found herself pouring her heart out to this gorgeous male she had loved as long as she could remember. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think that he would care what she had to say, but he actually listened. As she told him about how her parents planned every detail of her life, how they never asked her opinion about her schedule and just assumed she would do whatever they would say, Gwyndion seemed to grow more interested, rather than less. He leaned forward, eventually resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. She told him of her parents' choices of Pixie suitors, how they were all very handsome and possessed the right qualities to rule the Pixie kingdom, but that none of them were.... At this point she faltered. She almost said, "They're not you," but instead corrected herself by saying, "They're not the one I'm in love with." Gwyndion was silent for a few moments. Caoimhe could tell he was thinking and hadn't lost interest. When he finally spoke, she nearly fell out of the air in surprise. "Your story sounds very much like my own. I had no idea Pixies cared about more than their flowers or trees or plants they take care of. You intrigue me, Princess." "How could my story be anything like that of one of the mighty Sidhe? You always seem to have everything exactly the way you want it. True, there is always court politics, but that seems like a game you all play rather than true concern." And then something happened that she never would have expected. Never in a million years. He laughed! A deep, sexy belly laugh that shook the leaves in the tree so they seemed to laugh as well. When he finally calmed down, he smiled the warmest smile she had ever felt beamed in her direction. "I should very much like to get to know you more, Princess. Would you care for a picnic with me?" Everything inside her screamed to stop. She knew that nothing good could come of him "getting to know her better." It would only end in heartbreak. There was no chance he would find her to be a possible romantic partner, let alone fall in love with her. And she would only fall more in love with him. But after so many years of pining after him and watching him when he didn't know it, she couldn't help herself. "That would be lovely."