The sun beat down hard on the doors of the Alfea. The reign of the Summer Court made the palace an oven, and Griselda glared at the faerie in front of her. The girl's wings were hidden, invisibility being the newest and strangest trend of the young members of all courts, and her long, orange gown was full of slits and holes. Were Griselda a human, she might find such a thing inappropriate. As it was, she found the blatant declaration of the young woman's status distasteful.
"You demand respect worthy of the Princess of Summer," she said, her voice low. "A position that belongs to you by chance and not tradition. Even your power speaks of a cusp, milady." Griselda almost spat the title, angered by it. "Yet, you do not act the part of the title you so seek."
"Whether or not I act it, it belongs to me until such a day that the Changeling is found," said the girl stubbornly. "A day that many are inclined to believe will never happen. She was lost to Winter, like the rest."
"Lost or not, that doesn't change the facts, Princess Stella. You have come to the Alfea and refused to abide by the laws of neutrality. You have set curses and pranks upon those from other courts and turned the name of the Summer fae into a warning. There is not much left to remedy the damage you have caused… not much but for a suspension."
Stella rose angrily. Her hold on the invisibility spell that masked her wings vanished, and they unfurled, two large wings that mimicked the pattern of… no, not a monarch butterfly, but a viceroy, ever so slightly different. "How dare you try to rid me from this place! Don't you realize what I bring to your silly home?"
Griselda waved a hand. "I never did try to rid you. I only insinuated that you need a time out."
"How many years will this banishment last?" asked the princess.
"Fifteen," said Griselda. "Long enough for your head to cool. Though if your temper remains too hot, the next banishment will not be lifted." She smiled grimly. "You are dismissed, milady."
Haughty and proud, with murder in her eyes, the replacement Princess of Summer walked out of the Alfea, not to return for over a decade.
"Bloom, be a dear and fetch the water from the well," Vanessa Peters said mildly as she kneaded her bread dough. "Your lessons will be there when you return."
Obediently, Bloom jumped from her seat, her long blue skirt almost tripping her. Quickly, she composed herself before her parents could see.
On her way out the door, she checked her reflection in the one glass window that the family had. Her long red hair was in a single braid that went halfway down her back, and over her cerulean skirt was a loose white blouse, held against her with a plain leather belt. A wooden cross necklace was the only real form of ornamentation besides the silver buckles on her leather shoes, the expensive metal a luxury she was only given because iron caused a horrible rash.
She smoothed her shirt and skirt, hoping not to run into anyone particularly handsome today; she looked much better in red than in blue. Then, grabbing the wooden water bucket, she set out to the well.
The well was not far away. It was up a hill, directly behind Bloom's home, just high enough to be obscured by the faintest bit of fog and remain out of sight. Today the fog was especially thick, and Bloom had to squint to get through it.
At last she found herself at the well, a lovely stone well with a wooden roof above it. Standing next to it and peering down, as if searching for water, was a maiden Bloom had never seen before. Her blonde hair gleamed as if it were made of light, and her skirt was a faded yellow, as was her blouse. The shoes on her feet were not leather, but an odd sort of green cloth. "Excuse me," said Bloom. "Are you a traveler?"
The young woman nodded. "I am. I see there is no public bucket to draw the water."
"No, not at our well," Bloom said apologetically. "Are you thirsty? Would you like to use mine?"
Again, the woman nodded. Bloom handed her the bucket, but the girl didn't take it, merely stared. "I've never fetched water before," she said after an awkward moment.
What woman hasn't? Is she royalty or nobility? Her hair says she could be, but those clothes say otherwise. After a quick second, Bloom decided it didn't matter and simply attached the bucket to the rope. "I'll draw some for you. I have to get water for myself and my family anyway," she said with a small smile. "Where do you come from, friend…"
"Stella," said the woman. "I hail from not too far down the road, near the hills."
"I didn't know there was a city there."
"Not a city, just a village."
"Oh." Bloom tried not to look confused. As much as she tried to shove it out of her mind, the oddness of Stella wore on her brain. What were those soft shoes? How was her hair that lovely? She started to pull the bucket back up as she searched her mind for answers. By the time she handed the water over to the traveler, she had still found none.
Stella drank deeply. At last, she put the bucket (a quarter gone) down. "I never caught your name."
"Bloom."
"Bloom?" Stella blinked. "That sounds familiar. What might your family name be?"
"Peters, but I don't see how…"
"Don't you remember me?" Stella asked, a smile spreading across her face. It seemed genuine, but also… no, there was nothing else. Bloom tried not to allow her growing uneasiness to bother her. "We have met before, as children. I passed through here and we played together. Or was it you? Please, I would know if you told me your middle name… you do have one, right?"
What harm will it do to tell her? After all, she really does seem to know me. "Anessa."
"Bloom Anessa Peters," repeated Stella. "Oh, it's been so long! It really is you! You must come with me to see my sisters and brothers. They too await for you. We'll play and laugh and make music and have a grand time once again!"
Another twinge in Bloom's intuition made her look away from Stella. "That sounds marvelous, but I really do need to take this water home to my mother now."
For a moment, Stella looked mad. Then, she smiled happily. "Of course," she agreed. "I'm sure we'll find each other again soon. I'll be in the village for a while."
"Of course," said Bloom, her voice betraying a hint of uneasiness as she began the short walk home, her water bucket in tow.
She did not go out anymore that day. She cooked with her mother and read her lessons dutifully. At dinner, she let her father talk about how she needed to find a husband, and then she went to bed early. She did not think about Stella any more than the occasional stray thought.
When she fell asleep, soon after the sun dropped, her dreams were haunted with music. Beautiful sounds of bells and harps interlaced with many clear singing voices. In her dream, she opened the door to her house and walked into a forest as green as Stella's shoes. She followed the music, allowing it to grow ever louder, until it climaxed in a small clearing. There, three people sat on a rock. A girl with too-short auburn hair moved fingers over a string instrument, and a chiming percussion was played by a brunet man only barely older than Bloom. Between them sat Stella, her voice singing. Bloom tried to concentrate on the words, surprised to hear that the song's lyrics seemed only to be her name, sung over and over.
Stella reached a hand out, as though inviting Bloom to dance. Tentatively, the teenager took it.
To the sound of the music, they spun gently in the grassy clearing. Flowers sprung up around them in a perfect circle, as though they too had been coaxed away from wherever they had come from by the music. Bloom didn't put too much thought into it. She was busy dancing.
The music began to fade, but that didn't stop her. She leaned into Stella gently, trying to coax the girl to keep dancing with her, to keep singing that song that went "Bloom Anessa Peters, Bloom Anessa Peters."
The music stopped anyway. Then, Stella placed one hand in front of Bloom's face and snapped her delicate fingers.
Bloom blinked and woke up.
Or maybe not.
Around her, the woods still existed. The flower circle still existed. Stella still existed. "What…" started Bloom.
Stella grinned. "You're conscious. Good. It's time to go."
"Go?" Bloom pulled away, stepping back defensively. "Where are we? When is sun up? I need to get home!"
"I'll take you home," Stella promised. She put out her hand again, another genuine invitation. "Just come with me."
Don't do it, said the little voice in her head, but Bloom ignored it. Stella was staying in the village. She'd have to go back to get her things. Even if her intentions were bad, Bloom could find a way to get back to her family from there.
She took Stella's hand, and together, the girls began to walk.
One step forward. Two steps. Three steps.
Then, change.
The forest disappeared. In place of the trees, a large stone castle covered with pink flowers loomed over them. "What's going on?" demanded Bloom.
Stella smiled a smile that was equal parts serenity and mischief. "We're home. Welcome to Faerie."
Faerie?
The music. The insistence on learning her name. The dreams, the shoes, the magic.
It all made sense. Too much sense.
Her intuition said, I told you so, right as she blacked out.
AN: Welcome to Magic and Mischief! Is it a faerie AU if the characters are already fairies in canon? I don't know and I don't care, you're getting it anyway.
I hope you felt a little confusion, but not too much. There's a lot of mysteries to explore in Magi... I mean, Faerie. What is Alfea in this universe? What's going on with Stella? How did Bloom manage to get this kidnapped this quickly? Mysterious.
Anyway, on a more serious note I should say this AU isn't so much inspired by the RWBY Seelie AU as it is that reading that made me want to write this (otherwise, there isn't much inspiration at all, sorry). In addition, no particular legends or myths about faeries are the definitive for what I'm writing. I am taking bits and pieces of everything I like.
Come back next chapter for many more words and hopefully, a good time!