By Maggie Finson
By
Maggie Finson
You know, sometimes life is good, sometimes it’s bad, but most of the time it just is. Then there are those days. You know the kind, I’m sure. Things, no matter how great or awful in your life just kind of get pushed aside by something so outrageous that the event boggles one to the point of hoping you’ve gone completely insane. Unfortunately, in my case that wasn’t what happened at all.
You Don’t have to Believe, After All
The strangest stories I’ve ever heard always seem to start with ‘The day started out pretty much normal.’
Hah!
Nothing was normal about that day from the time I woke up to discover a fairy sitting on the foot of my bed, glaring at me as if I’d dissed Tinkerbelle in some public forum.
“Huh, What?” Okay, so my response wasn’t all that intelligent, but I ask you, what would your reaction be to waking up to something like that?
“What ya never seen a fairy before, bubba?” She questioned in a sweet little voice that still managed to sound nastily amused. “I know we ain’t that common these days, but things have been tough for da past few hundred years.”
“Uh, I’m still asleep, right?” I questioned hopefully and closed my eyes hoping the hallucination would be gone when I opened them again. No such luck. She was still perched comfortably on the footboard glaring at me.
“Nope.” She answered smugly. “I’m still here and you’ll just have to deal with it.”
“Why?” I questioned thinking that this one was a pretty ragged looking fairy, with wings that appeared a little shredded at the edges, a corset, little skirt — also kind of frayed at the hem, holed fishnet stockings and little high heeled ankle boots. Oh, did I mention that everything she was wearing was black? Her hair was a glossy black and might have been nice if it hadn’t been all spiked and teased out.
“You have to deal with it.” She said the careful way someone addresses a person who has a bit of a mental disadvantage. “Because I’m still here and ain’t goin nowhere for a while.”
“Oh.” That might not have been a bad thing if we had been closer to the same size. She was cute, no, actually pretty, and —umm — well put together. Even sexy for someone that might be six inches tall on her tiptoes. “Well, since you’re here, I’m Chad Stoner.”
“I already know who ya are, bubba!” She grumped back then frowned. “But I’d be careful about just telling anyone who flies in your window what your real name is if I was ya, bucko.”
“That’s my nickname.” I answered while wondering why I was even entertaining this obvious figment of my imagination when I should be looking for something to shake the delusion I was having. And how do you already know who I am?”
“Peeked at your mail.” She smirked. “Ya really should pay that light bill unless ya like hangin out in the dark after sunset.”
“That really isn’t any of your business.” I answered quickly.
“Yeah, yeah, an yer fridge has somethin growin in a bowl I sure wouldn’t get too close to, it might try eating me!” She shot right back then gave a dainty little burp. “But yer beer was cold.”
“Just how long have you been here?” I quietly asked, then added. “And what do I call you other than last night’s pizza?”
“Oh, sorry.” She replied around another belch that would have been even more annoying if she’d been anywhere near normal sized then gave me a lopsided grin. “Call me Thistledown for now. We ain’t near enough intimate for you to know my other use names, let alone my real one.”
“Thistledown.” I sighed. “So what gives me the pleasure of your — umm — company this morning?”
“Got bizness wit ya, Chaddie boy.” She returned while bouncing up and down on my mattress. “Da Queen’s callin in all Faerie Blood fer something she hasn’t seen fit to tell us peons about.”
“Fairy blood.” Shaking my head I watched her get slightly tangled in my bedspread and waited till she freed herself amid a series of curses that would have had me blushing if I had actually believed any of this was happening. “Umm — at the risk of sounding rude, if that’s the case why are you hanging out here drinking my beer, reading my mail, and making fun of what’s in my fridge?”
“Ya could have given a lady a hand there, ya know.” She pouted at me once she extricated herself from the folds of heavy cloth.
“Are you?” I questioned a bit distractedly as she straightened her skirt. “A lady I mean?”
She only glared at me for a moment, without saying anything for once since I’d awakened.
“So.” I encouraged. “Just why are you here? I mean if your queen has recalled all of you Fairies…”
“Dat’s F A E R I E, not F A I R Y, she answered then added. “But I am a Fairy and of Faerie, too.”
“If I don’t believe in you will you just go away?” I asked hopefully while feeling the beginnings of a headache.
“Nah, I ain’t no damned delicate Tinkerbelle who’s so mentally fragile she faints if someone looks at ‘er wrong.” Thistledown actually chuckled.
“All right, it’s been nice meeting you and all — umm — Thistle. But again, why are you bothering me this morning?” I pressed. “And aren’t fairies supposed to be all glittery and flighty?”
“Only da blonde ones. An dat’s Thistledown, thank you.”
“Again, why did you decide to grace my humble home with your presence this morning?!” I pushed again.
“Where is an ogre when you need one?” Thistledown sighed, rolled her eyes and grumbled something that sounded like. “Dumbass almost mortals, gotta hit ‘em wit a two by four ta get the idea across.”
“What idea?” I very carefully reached for something to throw if she didn’t give up and leave within the next minute or so.
“Dat ya got fairy blood in ya, dummy.” She shot back. “So da Queen’s call includes ya even if ya ain’t bright enough to know what ya really are!”
That was enough. I closed my eyes, disbelieved with all my might and hoped when I looked again that I’d be awake and this insane dream would be something to laugh about. “I’ve got Faerie blood?”
“Ya, on yer momma’s side, an dat’s FAIRY not FAERIE.” Thistledown answered almost wearily then muttered. “Why, why do I always get da ones who don’t believe a word I say until they change?
Oh, disbelieve all ya like. I ain’t goin away, or swooning or nuthin. Just get it out of yer system NOW so’s I can get to the important stuff, okay?”
“You’re still here.” I let out a heavy sigh when I opened my eyes to see her lovely, if very tiny form hovering just out of reach with a buzz of wings that reminded me a a dragonfly, or a moth beating itself against a closed window.
“Told ya, bubba.” She smirked at me. “Now on to bizness. Ya ain’t gonna fight me when we do this are ya?”
“Fight what?” I was confused, and more than a little upset by then.
“Da change.” She gave out a sigh that did some really interesting things to her exposed cleavage and the breasts that formed it. “Ya know, wakin up yer Fairy blood!”
“Why fight something I can no way believe is going to happen?” I shot back then sighed. “If I let you do this, and don’t fight, will you leave?”
“Oh sure!” Thistledown beamed and the smile kind of lit up her face. “Now let’s get started. Time’s wasting ya know!”
“Just do it, all right?” I told her.
And she did.
Can I disbelieve this? Please?
Ohhhh, pretty liiights….
Along with the feeling that everything was literally pressing against my body. Air, the bed, sheets and bedspread and hands that just kept getting bigger and were pressing harder as things went on. The pressure got more intense, and yes, it hurt. Especially when it felt like my bones were cracking then rebuilding themselves in some really alien shape.
I tried to scream but nothing other than a long exhalation of air happened. Worse, the pressure got worse and I had a terrible feeling that things were getting bigger around me.
Lot’s bigger.
About then I just gave up and passed out.
I came to lying on my face with some very weird feelings over my whole body. There was something on my back that I had no description for than seemed to start around my shoulders then draped over me like a warm, comforting blanket.
My chest felt all wrong, and uncomfortably squished against the bed. Plus, I was wearing what I took to be clothes of some kind even if they felt unfamiliar.
Then I made the mistake of trying to stand up. And hit the bed with my face again.
My balance was all WRONG. Those things on my back kept trying to pull me down on my butt. Which, by the way, seemed bigger, heavier, and was also doing its best to pull me down on it.
Then there were the weights on my chest that counterbalanced all that.
Soft, yielding, and really sensitive. I so much didn’t want to think about that.
Then there was the clothing that I hadn’t been wearing when all this started.
When I woke up again, I knew — just knew — that things were not what I’d always accepted them as being.
“Hey!” A familiar, unpleasantly so, and sounding much more normal voice interrupted that. “Ya done fallin on yer face yet? We got a schedule to keep, ya know!”
“Don’t know yet.” I mumbled with my face still pushed into the bed. “What am I going to see when I actually look?”
“Looks good ta me.” Thistledown responded then added. “But all I’m seeing right now is your backside.”
“I don’t think I want to know.” I answered, still muffled by the bedding and not nearly ready to try standing up again. “What happened?”
“Get up Deathwing.” Thistledown ordered. “You can’t spend eternity face planting into a mattress, ya know.”
“Who you talking to?” I questioned, worrying about yet another of the insane fairies visiting me.
“You.” My personal nightmare answered succinctly then added. “Nice backside, by the way. If I was into girls, I’d be all over you right now.
“I’m not a girl.” I shot back, my voice still muffled by the sheets, bedspread, and mattress.
“A fairy is ALWAYS a girl.” She answered with a smirk I could hear in her voice even though I wasn’t looking at her.
“I really think ya should stand up and have a good look at yourself.” She advised with a giggle.
“Don, wanna.” I answered, feeling all the strange sensations that told me my body was NOT the way it had been.
“Well, you can see it now, or later.” She answered with a chuckle that seemed very out of place with what I’d heard from her up to that point. “Better now, so you can prepare yourself for what comes later, Deathwing. I’d want to know who I am before I went in front of The Queen, ya know.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” I asked with a note of hysteria in my voice.
“Your wings.” Thistledown answered simply then added. “Got a nice skull pattern on each one of them. Besides, ‘Deathwing’ is a good, descriptive use name for ya. ”
“My name is Chad.” I argued, but truthfully, given what I was feeling and the sense that whatever had attached to my back was — fluttering, I grimaced.
Thistledown didn’t see that since I was still face down, but she muttered a string of soft curses, grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a standing position to face her.
Another brain fart here. I was looking her in the eyes when before she had been no bigger than a hugely annoying mosquito.
“WHAT?” I questioned while staring her straight in the eye. “Is going on here?!!”
Straight in the eye… That hit me like a wall falling down and catching yours truly under the avalanche. If anything, Thistledown was taller than I was, but I clearly recalled her being six inches tall if she cheated and stood on her tiptoes.
But I was glaring straight into her big violet eyes. I did another face plant then.
“This is gettin old ya know.” She told me. “Now get up and quit messing around.”
“Why am I looking you in the eye instead of down at you?” I asked as I very cautiously stood back up trying to keep my balance in spite of all the unfamiliar sensations that kept trying to unbalance me.
“You’re one of us now.” She answered simply then grinned and added. “A dark fairy.”
“Oh.” I answered intelligently then fainted again. “If I don’t believe will all this go away?”
“Not likely toots.” My personal nightmare answered as the world went mercifully dark.
But I’m NOT a Fairy!
“How many more times are ya goin ta pass out on me?” Thistledown questioned as I woke up again. “This is gettin kind of boring, ya know.”
“As long as it takes.” I answered, still trying to get a handle on the sensations and feelings I was getting from my body. “What happened?”
“I woke up your fairy blood.” She answered with a smirk.
“Am — am I a girl now?” I asked, afraid of the answer but certain of what it would be. “I don’t feel my — umm — dick and balls swinging , or being smushed up because I’m face down.”
“Ain’t ya listenin, Deathwing?” Thistle down snorted. “Ya are a FAIRY now. So yeah. Fairies are always girls!”
“Oh.” I replied, still in some kind of never, never land, though that was far more appropriate to the situation than I was willing to admit at the moment. All I needed was Peter Pan to come along and tell people that they needed to believe.
Right.
I fainted again.
Someone was slapping me in the face and it was really, really annoying.
“C’mon, Deathwing!” Thistledown was almost shouting into my face. “This is getting really old! Wake up and face what ya are, already!”
“What am I then?” I asked then added. “Some flitting, inconsequential little Tinkerbelle? I can’t deal with that.”
“Nah.” She answered with a smirk. “You’re a Dark Fairy and that’s a lot of FUN. The Tinkerbelles go somewhere else and they don’t have even close to the fun we do, sis.”
“Define fun.” I answered while slowly and carefully standing up again.
“Ya know, things like pranks, confusing and driving the mortals nuts whenever we can, lots of fun stuff!”
“I’m a mortal.” I shot back then shook my head. “And I’m sure as hell confused while thinking I’m nuts just now.”
“Aww, you aint’ a mortal, Deathwing.” She smirked. “You’re a fairy now.”
“I noticed. Sort of. Though I’m still not willing to admit it or even believe it.”
“Believe it, sweetie.” Thistledown responded while tugging on my hand as she started to hover over the bed. “Come have a look.”
“How?”
“Ya got wings, little sister, use ‘em.”
“Wings, oh yeah.” I answered distractedly. “But I don’t know how to fly!”
“Sure ya do.” Thistledown grinned with more enthusiasm than I really liked. “It’s kinda instinctive. Just try to lift yourself off the bed and follow me.”
“Think about… Whoa!” I finished with a shout of surprise as the bed and floor suddenly looked like they were a long, long way down and I was hovering in the air with a dragonfly buzz coming from behind me.
“Whoa is right!” Thistledown grumbled while she caught up with me. “Ya took off like a rocket, girl! Warn me next time!”
“I need to warn myself.” I shot back then swallowed as I took another look at the floor that appeared to be three or four stories down. “I don’t feel so good.”
“A fairy doesn’t get airsick!” She assured me just before I threw up and started spiraling to the floor.
My companion/nightmare caught my hand and at least kept me from hitting the floor, though she stayed carefully above me until I’d finished emptying the scant contents of my stomach.
“Well I guess I do.”
She chose to ignore that other than to ask a bit later. “Ya done puking yer guts out yet?”
“Think so.” I answered as the dry heaves finally subsided.
“Good, then come have a look at yerself.” She insisted. “Yer frigging gorgeous!”
“That isn’t exactly what I was wanting to hear, you know.”
“Truth.” Thistledown shot back. “Look now, look later, but get it over with now and ya’ll understand why all the males who see you start drooling and stuff.”
“This is NOT going to be fun.” I sighed.
“Sure it is, sweetie!” She enthused. “A really good looking fairy can do so many cool things!”
“Fairies are CUTE, in a feminine way.” I answered while being pulled towards the mirror. “I don’t want to think about that just now.”
“Ahh, you ain’t goin to be cute.” She assured then ruined that by enthusiastically putting in. “Yer friggin beautiful! Even for a Fairy!”
“Like I needed to hear… That…” I started to shoot back then trailed off twice once I saw our reflection.
Thstledown, I recognized. But the one with her… All I could think when I looked at that one was ‘Oh, shit.’
“Can I cook or can I cook?” She asked proudly.
“Uh, what?” I asked, still staring at the Thistledown’s companion, and not even coming close to believing that was ME.
The fairy hovering next to my nightmare was a babe, no doubt about that at all. In a kind of goth way.
Skin so pale it was almost white. Huge almond shaped ice blue eyes. Delicate heart shaped face with high cheekbones. A little nose, with just a slight uptilt to give the face that bit of a cupie doll look, and lips that looked like they could keep ten men happy in a matter of hours. Then be waiting for more.
And that was only the face.
The body that went with it… OMG!”
She was my ultimate wet dream. Large, firm, full breasts (at least a D cup) with a slim waist and hips that promised more than most men could handle. With an ass that just added to that image.
The fluttering wings just added allure, even if the death’ s head on them showed clearly and the wings were very obviously attached to that delectable body. But who would care?
No man I ever knew.
Worse, that image frowned at me, grimaced, and those huge ice blue eyes widened with horrified understanding as I watched that wet dream in motion.
“That’s me?” I squeaked out.
“That it is little sister.” Thistledown answered with the clear idea that she was preening at the results of her efforts.
“I’m a guy!” I shouted in a much lighter voice that bordered on the soprano range.
“Not any more, you gorgeous thing you.” She answered almost smugly. “You’ll lose that ‘guy thing’ pretty soon, trust me. With your looks, really soon.”
What this ‘vision’ was wearing didn’t help either.
Something that squeezed in her waist and pushed up her already abundant breasts that I later learned was a bustier, in a dark purple, a ragged hemmed skirt that went to her calves while hugging every under the waist curve and flimsy enough to show things under that along with the ragged hem and high heeled ankle boots that added unneeded shape to her calves and the glimpse of thigh the skirt gave.
“That’s me?” I gasped. Where did the clothes come from?”
“It’s you, darling little sister.” Thistledown assured me with a smirk. “The clothes came from what you had on before the transformation. They look GREAT by the way.”
“So what?” I questioned distractedly and with a bit of snark. “I’m a little fairy fuck toy now?”
“Not unless you want to be.” Thistledown answered then gave me a nasty little grin. “But just think of the fun you could have!”
“I’d rather not at the moment.” I answered.
“You’ll get used to it, and after all, you have eternity to get used to the idea, my beautiful, sexy sister.” She returned with a smirk.
I did NOT want to go there. At all. So, I fainted again.
“This is gettin to be a habit, Deathwing.” Thistledown told me between light slaps to my face and muttered curses.
“By dose hurts.” I managed to get out while experimentally touching tha
“Dat’s cause ya did a face plant on the floor from six feet up.” Thistledown snorted. “Don’t worry, it’ll get better quick. Us Fairies heal really fast.”
“How fast?” I questioned as the pain in my face receded, then vanished. “Oh, never mind, I’m better now.”
‘I’m not.” Thistledown grumbled while carefully re-spiking her hair and glowering at me. “Now, is there anything else ya want ta do before we leave? Ya know, like faint one more time, scream in horror at what’s happened to ya, demand I change you back?”
“I’ll take door number three.” I answered with a scowl.
“We aren’t in no game show.” She snorted then shook her head. “By door number three ya of course mean the demand that I change ya back, right?”
“Well, yeah.” I nodded emphatically all the while working to ignore what even that motion did to parts of my new anatomy I so much didn’t want to think about let alone have.
“Can’t.” The aggravating little critter shook her head with a smirk.
“Can’t or won’t?” I demanded.
“Can’t.” She repeated with a shrug. “Once a fairy’s blood is awakened, she’ll always be a fairy. No goin back an all that. Get it?”
“You mean I’ll be like this.” I ran my hands over my drastically changed body, felt my wings flutter in a little buzz I knew was irritation and then rose until I again faced the mirror and pointed at my reflection. “Forever?”
“Barrin accidents, getting caught by a hawk or cat or outright murder, yup, that about covers it.” She answered matter-of-factly.
“Murder?” I gave her a speculative look then chased that idea away. Thistledown was aggravating, had changed me from a relatively happy human male into some fetishisist’s dream of Tinkerbelle gone bad, and really butchered the English language (American version), but she was the only link I had to others, one of which just might be able to change me back to what I had been before this nightmare of a morning got rolling. “Never mind. I think I’ll just settle for a nice fit of hysterics for now and let it go at that.”
“Huh uh, honey.” Thistledown shook her head with an evil little grin playing at peeking out of her lips then ducking back to cover. “That was ‘door number two’ when ya were pickin yer options. Ya picked number 3, so that part is over with. Nope, hysterics are definitely NOT allowed right now.”
“I don’t see how you can stop me.” I pointed out.
“Like this.” She sighed as I drew in a breath preparing to let out a really nice scream. Her fist connecting with my chin kind of stopped that in its tracks.
That’s Really Where Fairy Dust Comes From?
“Uhhnn.” I groaned while my gleefully dancing, okay, carousing thoughts gradually managed to pull themselves into some sense of coherence. I decided that all this fainting was getting out of hand then sat up abruptly as I recalled why I’d lost consciousness the last time around and shouted indignantly. “You HIT me!”
“Figured it’d save time all around.” Thistledown grinned at me and winked. “The time you were out is really miniscule compared to how long a really nice fit of hysterics would have eaten up.”
“Point taken.” I grumbled then gave her a narrowed eyed look. “Hey! Either my brains are scrambled beyond all help — which I wouldn’t doubt — or you’re talking like a normal person!”
“The patter was an act.” She admitted with a sigh. “It goes wit tha look ya know?”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.” She answered firmly. “I’ve been alive longer than humans have had civilization, or their current idea of the term, anyway. I speak hundreds, maybe thousands of languages perfectly, and a lot of those are what humans consider dead languages or have never run across. I happen to like this punk look, it’s different, it’s fun, and perfect elocution just didn’t fit the image, okay?”
“No need to get defensive.” I sighed at her almost belligerent stance and actually chuckled. “Put the way you just said it, things are starting to make more sense to me, a little. Fairies like having fun. You’re a dark fairy and you like having the kind of fun that gets kids in school sent to schools that handle the ‘difficult’ children, only what you do involves magic.”
“Exactly right, Deathwing.” She approved. “I just knew you weren’t as mentally deficient as you seemed to be at first, but I was also making allowances for the shock of your fairy blood awakening and changing you. A little idiocy is allowable in cases like that. For a while.”
“How long is ‘a while’ now that you mentioned it?” I questioned.
“Time’s up hon.” She answered sympathetically. “We have things to do, places to go, people to see, and The Queen doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Queen…” I gave her a questioning look.
“Queen Mab of the Unseelie Court.” Thistledown answered with a shrug. “She has no sense of fun in the fairy sense, but is also a Goddess of Magic and Mischief so it isn’t a really good idea to get on her bad side. Especially when you’re new.”
“Urk.” Is about all I could manage at that revelation. Mab was an ancient Celtic Goddess, and wasn’t known for being merciful even with her favored minions. “I guess we should head that way then.”
“Good idea.” Thistledown agreed with that tone that clearly said ‘See! I knew you were smarter than you were acting!’ clear in her voice and posture.
“But first, I have to — you know — use the toilet.” I told her a little shyly as I headed for the bathroom. “Other dark fairies may not be potty trained — present company not included there since you haven’t left any little piles on my carpet or furniture and you’ve been here half a day — but I am and I really need to go.”
“So float over the bed, think of you as you were when human, and let go.” She told me with a grin I just knew was holding back a secret she thought was hilarious.
“You want me to crap on my own bed?” I almost shouted back at her, but the urge took over and I was over the bed youcan figure out the rest.
What came out was a cloud of sparkling, nice smelling — motes. That’s the only way I can describe it. If glittering little motes of light could make music those would have been doing a really good rendition of Nightwish’s Tenth Man Down just them, and they collected on the bed, ran together, glowed so brightly even my newly enhanced vision, that I would find out about later, couldn’t see through, and left a really good copy of my original body lying in the bed. Only it wasn’t breathing.
“What the Hell was that?!!”
“Fairy dust.” Thistledown was working really hard to hold back the laughter I could tell was trying to pry open her mouth and assault my addled senses and sensibilities.
“Fairy dust?” I asked incredulously.
“Well, yeah.” She chuckled. “What, you think we carry around bags of the stuff to spread around when we want to do something cool and magical?”
My eyes were probably as big as saucers, fairy sized of course, and my mouth had to be hanging open in disbelieving shock before I slammed it shut so I could breathlessly blurt out. “You mean that fairy dust is really fairy po..?”
“You got it, sweetie.” Thistledown gave in and started laughing. She giggled, chuckled, chortled, fell to her back on an invisible floor in the air while kicking her feet, rolling around, and letting out belly laughs so strong anyone having them would hurt for a week before getting hold of herself and wiping the tears from her eyes while getting her breath back. “Oh gods, this is so much fun. I just LOVE showing the newbies where fairy dust really comes from!”
I looked from her to the bed and the very real appearing body lying on it, did it again and couldn’t help myself. I started laughing, too.
At least this time the hysterics weren’t from shock, disbelief, horror at what had happened to me, or anger. It was too funny for any of those. I ended up hugging Thistledown while she hugged me, both of us shaking so hard we needed the support the other could manage to offer. That was mostly providing a body that was trying to fall in the opposite direction you were, and both of us were in tears we were laughing so hard.
“Oh, now that’s the FIRST thing since this all started that actually makes a little sense!” I managed to gasp out.
Which started us both again.
Maggie Finson
WARNING!! Fairies and Beer: Do NOT Mix
“Time to go, Deathwing.” Thistledown gently told me.
“But…” I stared at the inert body that was supposed to be me — the old me, and shook my head. “I had a life, friends, family. I can’t just go without at least writing a note or something.”
“A note?” My companion gave me a look people generally reserved for the total idiot who thought it was a good idea to have a campfire inside the tent. “And just what would you say in this — umm — note? Hey folks! I’m not really dead, I just changed into this really cool goth fairy and am going to flit off to play with the flowers and other Fairies?”
“Uh, no.” I answered a bit flustered by that idea.
“Then what will you put in it?” She questioned pointedly. “Providing you can manage to handle the pen or pencil — which, I might add, are now as big, or bigger, than you are.”
“Oh, never thought of that.” I answered with a frown. Just how would I manage to manipulate a pen or pencil longer than I was tall without totally messing up anything I was working to accomplish? Then it dawned on me. I was a FAIRY! I can use MAGIC! “I’ll do it with magic.”
“Got any Fairy Dust left?” Thistledown smirked. “Or are you all pooped out? Don’t expect me to use any of MINE for a note you don’t even know what to say in!”
“Ah, c’mon.” I wheedled. “You snuck into my house, changed me into some dark themed Barbie doll with wings, and won’t even use a little of your own — umm — stuff to help me write a goodbye note?”
“Nope.” She answered simply.
“Why not? I would think you kind of owe me after doing what you just did.” My voice held a petulant note that I didn’t really care for, but at that point I wasn’t really going to get overwrought about something like that. There were other things to panic over that seemed a lot more pressing at the moment.
“What I just did,” Thistledown snorted, “was to give you a wonderful gift! I awakened your Faerie blood and self. Besides, I used all mine up getting that done.”
“Okay, forget the note.” I grumbled. “I guess it wasn’t such a great idea after all.”
“Are you through crying in your beer yet?” She questioned.
“I don’t have a beer to cry in.” I pointed out while holding out empty hands.
“Want one?” She grinned. “There’s still a six pack in the fridge.”
“What about that green stuff that wanted to eat you?” I asked distractedly.
“Oh we could grab a couple of cans, be long gone and laughing, not to mention enjoying the beer before its feeble excuse for a mind even realized we’d been there.” Thistledown confidently told me.
Thinking about the ludicrous position I was in, and the total unreality of said position, I nodded. “Couldn’t hurt, I suppose. Let’s do it.”
“Good for you!” Thistledown crowed. “I just knew you were one of us the minute I first saw you! Let’s go get that beer!”
“After you, fearless leader.” I intoned while making formal seeming motions for her to precede me.
“Polite, too.” She nodded then frowned. “I suppose we can cure that with time, though. Come on, beer is waiting!”
“Lay on McDuff!” I answered with a little sigh followed with a grin.
“Shouldn’t that be lead on?” She asked then added. “And my name isn’t McDuff it’s Thistledown.”
“Never mind.” I sighed. “A fairy who isn’t familiar with Shakespheare.”
“I haven’t read many of the newer human authors.” She answered with a shrug. “I don’t get a lot of time to read.”
“Okay, forget that, let’s just go get the beer.” I responded with a sigh thinking I could probably do with the whole six pack but wondering how I could carry the whole thing off given my present size.
“That’s the spirit!” She enthusiastically answered as she flew out of the bedroom. I didn’t have a lot of choice if I intended to find out not only what had happened to me but why it had. I followed her. Besides, the idea of beer was doing things to my mind that it never had before. It was kind of like holding a nicely done rare steak in front of confirmed meat eater’s nose. I just couldn’t resist it.
“Follow me!” I shot back as I streaked past her towards the kitchen, the fridge, and most importantly, the beer that was in that fridge.
One twelve ounce can of Coors was bigger than I was by a long shot. But I managed to get not one, but two cans out of the plastic rings the things come in. I escaped the fridge with my booty (though I had bought the stuff the other day) while thumbing my nose at the sluggish green stuff trying to crawl out of the bowl in the back bottom corner, and exhultantly exited the kitchen. Carrying my plunder into the back yard without the effort I thought it would take even without using magic it occurred to me that I was a lot stronger than I had to look.
Thistledown flew in behind me carrying another two cans and whooped. “I KNEW you were one of us! Two cans on your first try!”
“Whatever.” I muttered back while working the pull tab on one of the cans with both hands, my feet planted firmly on the top, and grunting with effort until the tab gave up the struggle and pulled away from the can. The thick yeasty aroma that emerged from the can once I did that was heavenly and well worth the effort.
Thistledown just waved a hand, and a bunch of sparkles effortlessly pulled the tab from her first can.
“I thought you said you didn’t have any magic left!” I shot her a withering look as she pushed her face into the opening.
“I lied.” Came the muffled response with a long sloppy sounding slurp. “Besides, that note idea was just lame. Get with it girl, enjoy the beer you didn’t have to earn!”
The wonderful aroma and need it aroused in me kept any retort I might have made from happening. I pushed my face into the opening breathed in that wonderful scent, then extended what had to be a proboscis like a straw to start sucking that gods sent brew in.
I will NOT tell you what we got up to once we’d each finished off our booty. I’ll just say that the wilder stories about what fairies do to mortals fall short of the reality. The people who get the worst of the pranks from blasted fairies don’t believe what happened once morning comes. Which is probably a good thing, all things considered. Especially the once billiard ball bald guy who now sported a long, curling, luxurious mane of platinum blonde hair. I was actually kind of proud of that one. Probably because it was the last prank I really remember pulling. Things got a little hazy after that one.
The clearest memory I have of that night was of yelling. “Rar! I am Fairy, I am powerful! Tremble mere mortal while I poop on you!”
Worse, I discovered that I hated sunrise. Being a dark fairy, that heralded bed time, and three sheets to the wind as I was, there wasn’t any way I thought I was ready to sleep.
War with the Roses?
Having a hangover as a fairy isn’t any more fun than it is when you’re human.
But I do have to admit that after imbibing at least ten times my body weight in beer, I was at least able to notice that I felt miserable. Instead of dead like I kind of wished I was that evening. Even better — not! I woke up in a rose bush.
Thorns big enough to impale me loomed threateningly just below where I was still mostly comfortably nestled among some fragrant blooms. Even more interestingly, those thorns appeared to be straining to reach me so they could impale me.
Go away or we will hurt you, fairy. A sibilant voice that held hints of rustling leaves and thorns rubbing together demanded as I became more conscious. Steal any of our young and you will suffer, we swear it!
“You talking to me?” I questioned, feeling like a fool because I was speaking to nothing sentient that I could see — other than the rose bush I was currently ensconced within.
Your kind always steals our young. The voice insisted. You swore not to do that this morning, so we did not impale you as you slept.
“Uhh, thank you for the hospitality.” I answered slowly with a shake of my head. “I wouldn’t willingly steal anyone’s young, especially after I’d slept in — them?”
We sense that you are different in some way, Fairy. Do not cause us to regret our forbearance with you today.
“Violating someone’s hospitality, especially when there is evident enmity between you and — umm — fairies, would be a terrible breach of manners.” I assured the voice(s) which I was beginning to understand were from the rose bushes around me. “Besides, as I recall, I swore an oath to you just after sunrise.”
Just so, Fairy. The voices, okay the roses — I’d been human and male yesterday, so negotiating with a rose bush or two didn’t seem to be any stranger than what had already happened to me — agreed. Honor your oath, and there will always be protection for you among us, anywhere you go and have need. That is no small thing for a fairy to have.
I somehow recalled that oath. I had told the roses that I would never take their young (pollen) or imbibe of the things fairies routinely made of those. Though how I knew enough to tell them that, or even make the oath, I couldn’t tell anyone. Also, there were other flowers who quite willingly provided fairies with pollen because we (ugh, we. As in fairies which I was still getting my head around being counted as) managed to drop enough to fertilize other flowers of the same kind. Hey, when you’re six inches tall, even carrying a batch of something as tiny as pollen grains is tough. You lose some. But I found that out later.
“My thanks for accepting my oath, beautiful and deadly blossoms. I won’t break it.”
Someone gave you beer last night. The roses countered. Will you claim duress once you have left us?
“I made the oath!” I shouted, outraged at the idea that someone, even a plant, would think that I’d break it though I had no idea at all where that outrage came from or why it was so important to me to hold to an oath I made when I was so blitzed I barely remembered doing it. “Drunk, sober, or stoned on the black lotus, it doesn’t matter! I will never, EVER, break my word, to you or to anyone!”
As you say, Fairy. The voices accepted that but didn’t apologize. Hold to your oath and you will always be welcome among us. Break it and we will not have to worry about how to impale you.
“Fairies do not make oaths lightly.” I answered, still not believing I was talking to a bunch of rose bushes, or understanding exactly what it was I’d done. But I did know breaking my word to these plants would have unpleasant and possibly deadly consequences. “You gave me shelter when I needed it. I’ll always recall that fondly despite the enmity between our kinds.”
Be welcome among us, fairy.
My name is Deathwing.” I answered then added. “Thank you.”
You gave us your use name this morning. The roses told me almost gently. Be welcome among us Deathwing, our petals will always be ready to enclose, comfort and protect you.
“Thank you.” I answered, for some reason feeling as if I had received a very rare honor. “I will always recall you fondly.”
These we give freely, Deathwing and friend. A shower of what I instinctively knew were rose hips fell on and around me. Enjoy the tea, and you have our permission to use a rose as your personal sign and emblem.
“Thank you.” I managed to get out while still trying to puzzle out why that was such a distinction for a fairy, but understanding that generally fairies and rose bushes didn’t get along. “I will treasure that gift always.”
As we will treasure the memory of you, dear Deathwing. The bushes answered -- by then I’d given up any pretense of not believing that I was actually talking to a bunch of rose bushes. Hold to your oath and anywhere you may go, we will be your friends and allies.
“Thank you, I’m honored beyond words.” I responded, and knew that was true even though I wasn’t sure why it was. “I will use the rose as my sigil and sign, and always honor the ones who gave me that right.”
As we will honor you, friend Deathwing. The bushes answered.
“My thanks for the shelter today.” I told them with a happy little sigh. “I don’t think I’ve rested so well in a long time, even if you were making me comfortable so you could kill me without a lot of fuss.”
We were, yes, but not any longer. We recognize your faith, and intent for holding to your oath. Be well beloved Darkwing, and come back often.
Now that was a trip that was more surreal than what I’d done last night with Thistledown. But I felt really good about it. Really good.
I heard her calling me, shook off the pleasantly lazy feeling that wanted to keep me nestled within the welcoming and sweet smelling petals I was still wrapped in, and told the roses. “Okay, it’s time for me to go. Thank you.”
They opened obligingly then I spread my wings and slowly lifted myself into the air.
“Were you stealing pollen?” Thistledown asked while watching in something like astonishment as I emerged unmolested from the rose bush.
“Stealing pollen?” I questioned, though I already had a pretty good idea of what that was about.
“Sure.” My companion answered with a smirk that changed to a worried glance to the rose bushes I had just emerged from. “Why aren’t they attacking you?
“I slept in them today.” I told her. “We have an understanding.”
“Understanding?” She widened her eyes and gave me a look most people reserve for that nut who can ruin a dinner party by telling everyone he or she can commune with the roast they’re eating.
“Yes, an understanding.” I told her. “I won’t steal their young, and they won’t try to kill me whenever I land in them.”
“WHAT?!!!” She actually looked outraged by that. “Rose pollen is the sweetest fruit a fairy can eat, and the wine that comes from the pollen is the best there is! What kind of agreement do you have with the roses that they would allow you to sleep within them?!”
“I promised that I wouldn’t take their young.” I told her with a shrug.
“You did WHAT?” Thistledown almost spluttered. “Fairies and Roses have been adversaries since time began! We eat and drink their young! They hate us!”
“Maybe it’s time for a change then.” I answered quietly while showing her the rose hips. “They gave me these willingly enough.”
“The roses gave you something?” She gave me an incredulous look.
“Yup.” I answered with a grin.
“But fairies have raided rose bushes for pollen since time began!” She shot back. “
Rose pollen is the best fruit a fairy can eat, and the wine from that… Ohhhh.”
“You already said that.” I pointed out and added. “I swore an oath.”
“You are one weird fairy.” She answered but didn’t argue about it.
“I was HUMAN thirty-six hours ago!” I almost shouted at her. “How could I have become weird by fairy standards in that time?”
“Trust me, you managed it.” Thistledown sighed.
My mentor/whatever kept muttering to herself about idiot fairies making deals with rose bushes for another hour or so as we headed in a generally easterly direction.
She was too upset to even try a few obviously waiting pranks on the humans we passed in the darkness.
With an armful of rosehips I didn’t bother with those, either.