A Modern Fairytale

The vow not taken

It really hasn't been that long since you came into my life, but looking back now, I cannot confidently say I remember what life was like before then. You walked in as if you had a place from the start as if you had always belonged here even before we met. I clearly recall your pinkish hair, your ragged dress—so distinctly did they spell poverty, and yet the look you gave me was nothing like that of a peasant.

I would know.

That very first day, even as my knight approached you in curiosity, I thought to myself, that is probably not wise. She is probably no peasant. True, the way I was dressed then would not have given my identity away, but the entourage certainly would be a hint. Along the way, many looked upon us, most of whom averted their gaze by instinct as soon as it met mine. There was something about the way I looked at them that convinced them we were not of the same class.

But that very first minute, even as my knight was approaching you, your brilliant blues found me first. They pierced through all my knights—even the one two steps away from you—and looked right into mine, calmly, purposefully, as if marking me for something. I knew from that moment it would not be the last time we met.

Nevertheless, I am not ashamed to admit that I did not see through you—not enough to anticipate you lying next to me years later...on the grass, at night, looking up at the starry sky. My cloak served as a blanket, easily covering both of us. The night was slightly chilly, and I knew it bothered neither of us, yet you would not let pass an opportunity to hook your arm around mine under the cloak. When I turned my head to look at your smile, you were smiling at the stars.

"Sire," you said to me, softly, "Do you see that? The brightest one."

I followed your gaze, finding the brightest star in the sky. "Yes?"

"Will you take me there?"

At that, I could only shift my gaze back to you. "I cannot fly, Valerie. You have asked the wrong man."

Of course, that was a trap. Of course, I walked into it knowing so. You beamed in triumph, turning to prop yourself up on an elbow, keeping your free hand just lightly touching my arm.

"Then who is?"

I chuckled. "I cannot tell you that, either. My assessment is meaningless. Besides, do you really want to reach the stars? Those closest to them are the ones you refuse to look at ever again." You weren't really trying to choose anybody for anything, this I understood—you were only making conversation, and furthermore, making the people around you a source of amusement. Are all fairies like this? Easily bored, perhaps; casually cruel, perhaps not.

To my response, you only smiled, confirming it.

"Iefan and Ulric have the wings to carry you there; King Reginvalt'd best stay where he is," this I said, recalling the names that mattered at all. "I have a feeling something is missing from that cast."

"You're right," you said to me then, "There is another actor amongst them—one who works in earnest and the dark. Someday, Sire, he may show himself...when the time is right."

I watched your fair face then, and if I weren't watching you the whole time, one might even think I had dozed off—but I watched you because the expression on your face at the mention of that mysterious person was quite a curious one. It was unlike the way you looked when speaking about anyone I had named just a moment prior. I saw trust, a sort slightly different from the one you shared with the fairy you made king; I saw intrigue, a kind distinct from the more sophisticated version you did not express about the king who once was; I saw endearment, one not quite as protective as that which you felt towards the young musician. Above all, I saw joy—a kind that had to be the most genuine you could muster for a scheming, ever-adventurous fairy princess who refused to be queen.