𝒹𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝑒𝓍 𝓂𝒶𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒶 ~ g.w.

𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒

a benevolent ruler of the spirit world. the King of the faeries so hard struck and foul.

he was characterised by malice; it was in his nature to be forever intending to do harm.

for poor Oberón was cursed and so tragically so. and by a faery he ruled over no less. and it is true what they say that any curse is sure to leave a scar.

a solemn utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power; to inflict harm. and on poor Oberón it did. a punishment of sorts that fit his crimes.

but he was only a babe. so tragically hit and so brutally ensnared. and what babe could possibly be so offending to curse?

did he cry too loud? shriek the night away? was he destined for war or a love so unbecoming?

but alas we do not know; he was only a babe in a time too long ago.

his scar did shine it couldn't be unseen,
to live his life hidden and small. small so small. for the curse did stunt his growth.

that of a troll poor Oberón did resemble, ghastly grey and green running its way down his finger tips and linking with his veins.

to hide in the spirit world as their besotted King. and who could respect a King whose body was un-pure?

he was un-saintly, scorn, looked down upon in disdain.

but that was all before the curse was relented. a shock it would seem. he was granted great beauty; so charming and lovely, so appealing to the eye.

he was nothing but heavenliness as if it was God who relented not the faery so hurt.

he brought the blessing of peace and of health. a kindness so rare after being dealt with life's dear cruelty.

mere compensation to the eye. he was a King to his people despite his troll physique.

and as time did pass the tale of Oberón does remain. his descendants gracing the earth walking his land in whimsical candescence.

spirits in their heads, away with the faeries. so religiously sacred, never quite on this earth. their knowledge of other beings so extraordinaire, their passion and heavenly devotion to all creatures one uncommonly so.

and it was this fanatical desire that caused the sacred to steer clear. oh no those families they did not go near.

their nature caused grown adults to laugh, to shriek and to falter. the children to cower and sneer.

if they were to skip down the street, eyes so mystically glazed. if they were to enter a shop with their feet completely bare.

for no one believed their tales of the mythical creatures that so openly roamed. or their stories of the hallows and the clear sight beyond.

but it was all so true, so magically so. Moon Frogs and Blibbering Humdingers and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. yes they did roam this land.

and great power, resurrection an invisibility to the eye.

to see what is in the beyond and unbecoming, in the leaves, the crystals the mere heavens above.

and if poor Oberón was watching, well heaven be dammed. he would dare cause a ruckus demand so extravagantly so. to be brought back by the Angels who guarded the pearly white gates.

he begged to be released to not let his descendants face such scrutiny. such uproar and mocking it was unpleasant to be seen.

but he was proud that they did not care. so pure and simple and elatedly unaware of the torture they did face.

and two boys who decided to have some fun. we're the main targets for Oberón's demands to be set free.

oh they didn't really think before they spoke. young boys never do. but their words they did stick like all malice insults do.

the girls names were forgotten, lost in the wind. and poor Oberón did see.

George Weasley would be glad he could not escape those pearly white gates. because despite Oberón's bringing of peace and good health he was still cursed bearing his scar.

for kindness was not his only personality; remember he could be cruel so foul as he was still a troll.

a troll writhing to be freed but alas he could not. so at George Weasley he did grimace, spit down and hate with pure might.

as there was no one Oberón hated more than those who did curse, with their spells and potions and above all their cruel words.