In The Land of the Monsters: Why Is It Called A Faerie Tale?

By: Corpus Badchild

NOTES: This fic is AU, and straight romancey. .

:P

))(Section: 1. In which we reveal Harpie Lady)((

Harpie glanced at her mirror fondly, brushing her long mane of magenta coloured hair. It was difficult work, with the tips of her wings being supported by her arms and hands, and they always seemed to get in the way.

Quail stuck her head in the polished wooden door. "Sister, you must hurry. The visitors are nearly at the gates."

Harpie sighed. The one thing she had been dreading, the one thing she could not avoid: suitors.

Reluctantly, but trying so hard not to drag her feet and act like a proper lady, she trudged down the stairs to meet her father and sisters…and the visitors.

:P

))(Section: 2. In which you will meet the Harpie Lady Sisters)((

The first thought that greeted Harpie's mind when the man took off his hat was : He's here! The Phantom of the Opera! (AN: Note to self: stop listening to the PotO Soundtrack so much.) His face, while not completely distorted, was fairly easy on the eyes.

"Fond greetings, Signor Mebello." With only a quick glance over, Harpie could see her sisters fretting over their hair, dresses. Quail was puffing up her closely cropped orange cut, while Robynn tried to pat down her ever-straight socket hair.

The man and her father shook hands, and Signor Mebello invited him into the parlour. The girls quickly rushed out to the kitchen to fetch the refreshments.

Quail picked up a tray of grain crisps and handed them to the pink haired Harpie. "Take this and place it on the table."

Harpie glared at Quail, and whispered fiercely, "I know what to do, sister dearest. It's not like I haven't done this before."

"You do realize," Robynn stated, primly preparing the coffee, "that if it weren't for your determination never to find a husband, you wouldn't have to do this over and over."

Harpie ignored her and pushed the kitchen door open with a loud, angry bang! She nearly broke the filigree glass plate when she set it down on the low table in the parlour.

The men had stopped talking when she entered. Harpie now realized the man, who was watching her intently with burning blue eyes, smiling slightly, was Signor Wittyph, a business correspondent of her father's, from a place called England.

His curved nose was a parrot's beak, the eyes, flaring like the centre of a flame. His smirk was half-hidden by a gloved hand cupped around his chin; the mauve hat rested on the seat beside him.

"You are Miss Harpie?"

"Yes, Signor."

He smiled, the sharp teeth showing through, and then it was gone. "I was just hearing from your father what a sharp woman you are. Intelligent, polite, cultured. Would you like to join us?"

Harpie looked uncomfortably at her father, who merely nodded at her. She sat tentatively on the edge of the couch. Vaguely, a thought of doing a terrible thing to scare him off passed through her mind, but when she looked up again at those burning sky blue eyes, her mind went blank.

"Harpie? Harpie Starling Mebello." The girl blinked, looked around. Her father was glaring at her, but Signor Wittyph looked amused.

Blushing, she mumbled, "I'm sorry, Father, I'm not feeling well. I think I may go lie down." Shakily, deliberately avoiding the gaze of Signor Wittyph, she stood and began to walk to the door.

The cog-wheel clock in the hall began to ring.

"Oh, goodness. Is it noon already?" Signor Wittyph picked up his hat and followed Harpie to the front door, talking to her father the entire way. "How the time flies. I'm sorry our time was so short, Signor, but I've a meeting with some business owners that just cannot be put off again." She only had a foot on the stair when he called out, "Miss Harpie?"

She turned around, tingles arcing across her back. "Yes, Signor?"

"May I call again?"

Those blue eyes…To refuse would be impolite. But of course he could not. There was not a single way she would ever let him come ba—"Of course." And she smiled a sweet smile, stepped lightly to her room.

))(And in which you met…dun dun duuuuun… the Witty Phantom!)((

:P

Later that night, Harpie was pulling up her hair into a braid so that the mass of pink would not be tangled during sleep. She fastened the ribbon and began to turn, stand up from her mirror table.

But she stopped. Leaning on the wall next to an open window was Signor Wittyph, come to call again.

"Signor?" Behind her back, Harpie picked up an ivory comb with a death grip.

"Miss Harpie." He smiled warmly, but not convincingly, and stepped into the centre of the room. "Ever since I first saw you, my heart came to the conclusion that you were the perfect person for my plan."

"Your plan for what?"

"My plan." Those pointed teeth again. "But for it to work," he said quietly, menacingly, "you must come with me, tonight, to a place you never could have dreamed of."

"What is this place?"

"You will see when we get there." Harpie planted her feet firmly, not to the surprise of Signor Wittyph. "Signora, no harm will come to you tonight. Come with me, and know the wonderful experience of choice."

"Do you mean to tell me, if I come with you, no one can choose a suitor for me?"

"Not a one." He smiled, paced to the window. The man held out his hand. "Are you coming?"

"How could I refuse?" she asked, eyes caught in his hypnotic azure stare.

His hand grasped hers and with no hesitance, Harpie was pushed out her bedroom window.

:P

End Chapter 1.

:P

Hmmmmmmmmm…. I think I might need to rewrite it slightly…what do you think?