Author's Preface: This is dedicated to my wonderful English teacher who got me so deeply immersed into Shakespeare as to write this Fanfiction. I do not claim the fantastic show that is a Midsummer's Night Dream, nor do I claim most of the characters therein, save for some fairies and the personality of the anonymous Fairy, whom I have named Aspre. All lyrics from songs by "And Also The Trees". If you review and you don't like it, do not simply flame, hmm? Offer some constructive criticism. Other than that, enjoy.
Chapter One
'Over hill, over dale..'
From the time I was born, my parents knew I was different.
My mother, pretty nymph that she was, always told me that when I came into the world, my squalls were somehow different than other fairy children's; more solemn and musical somehow, instead of that fantastic cascade of verbal fury from very young infants. Delta, my mother, also told me that when I was a little older, about a ten-year-old, as humans reckon time, my voice was different from the piping squeals of toddlers. Instead, it was as smooth and flowing as the mouth of the river in Attica King Oberon sternly charged my mother to protect and rule. She often disappointed his high expectations, for she had been part of his female retinue before she had eloped with Father.
Father. I barely remember him. The last time I saw him was three days before I was invited –or rather, forced! - to serve at the Fairy court. He had business to attend to, he said, to stay at the bedside of a sick child Queen Titania clearly favored. I had a sneaking suspicion that his father was particularly handsome!
Even thought it was ten years ago, in my fifteenth summer, I remember the day Father left. He was unwilling to go. Being away from his family was mental torture for Snapdragon, especially me. I know that sounds of idle boasting, but it's not. He seemed to be absurdly proud of having a unique fairy-child, not simply a blonde-haired, green-eyed beauty that promised heartache to male mortals and fairies alike. No, I was, and still am, far from the typical appearance of a fairy. Crinkling chestnut locks and a dash of freckles across the band of a small, thin nose on a heart-shaped face look normal enough on a human, but add eyes of deep purplish-grey and white gossamer wings; and you've one hell of a strange fairy!
But I digress. That day, I stood outside our abode, tears streaming down my cheeks as my father prepared a fabulous, creamy stallion for the journey. White wasn't quite as favored as black. King Oberon had the blackest horse one had ever seen, one with whom the night appeared light blue in comparison. But white horses, like my father's Chasmyr, were also very valuable. That's why he had so little packed, for fear of wearing him out. Snapdragon was one of those cautious souls.
Swinging himself onto the light saddle, he turned, and leaned down to little me. I clung to his neck fiercely, for fear he should vanish if I did not. Then he did most curious thing. Kissing my cheek as a father should, he then kissed my eyes.
"These are your gems. Be proud of them."
And without another word, he nudged Chasmyr, and rode off.
That is the last memory I have of him, and the strangest. For why should my eyne be considered gems? They are not the typical fairy sort.
I cannot complain of my life here at court. I am Queen Titania's messenger and chambermaid. As such, I have simple gowns that sparkle in their own way, and I help Titania get ready for when she lays down her golden head to rest. If she feels particularly restless, I and another fairy, Peaseblossom by name, will brush her hair or rub her back until she becomes drowsy. Peaseblossom is one of the Queen's favorites, for though he is but a boy still, younger than me, he has some of the nimblest fingers I have ever seen. As I have discovered, either the fairies in the court have some beneficial quirk, or they are simply of noble lineage. There is a strong, fierce loyalty to court binding our miniature class unto ourselves together. I can speak to any of the fairies here.
Always excepting my dear Robin Goodfellow, of course.
I was in one of King Oberon's gardens, as the fairy Queen was in a fretful state and wished for no servants to witness her wanderings 'round her chamber. Apparently, one of her friends, a changeling woman, had died in the midst of labor and Titania was deciding what to do with the infant. Meandering aimlessly along, I crossed over a rude little footbridge and suddenly stopped on the other side. A tune had caught my ear, a marvelously whimsical tune that seemed to sparkle, if that is possible, in my ear. I bent closer to listen.
"He tried to say
That she meant nothing at all,
Walk down the rivers
And under bridges
The bells mocked foolishly...foolishly
Walk down the rivers
And under bridges
The bells mocked foolishly...foolishly
Like dry leaves through scarce memories
She would reach to him from the deep...
he believed.
She rides the waves
That whisper up to the shores,
Her crescent figure
Through green waters glimmered
The dream glossed estuary...estuary
Her crescent figure
Through green waters glimmered
The dream glossed estuary...estuary.."
The voice stopped, and then instead of the words, came the mournful tune on a panpipe. I leaned forward to get a clearer view of the singer.
It was Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, Oberon's jester. I had often heard about him, and the mischief he did. And indeed, he looked as though he could wreak some legendary tomfoolery! The lower half of a slender, tightly-muscled body was covered with breeches of emerald-green hue, while the up half of his torso was bare. A strong face was browned and sprinkled with freckles, while navy-blue eyes glimmered naughtily. Black hair cascaded onto his shoulder while his lips caressed the top of the panpipe's reeds.
He stopped. His eyes narrowed, and he turned in my direction. I ducked behind a rowan.
"You know, love, it's now no use hiding from Puck."
His voice was practically expressionless, save for one faint glimmer of annoying nastiness. Even with that, it was a beautiful voice, and promised much, if I could bring it to smile. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
"You have three seconds to come out."
The malice was there, although a little less playful. There was also a pronounced twinge of arrogance in that voice that had such an effect on me that was fearful. It wasn't annoying arrogance that was fit to be slapped; it was arrogance that threatens. It was frightening!
"One……two…."
Without so much as a word, I ducked away, running through the dappled shade of the trees. I would deal with him when he was in a better mood. A strange feeling surged in my heart, but the terror shunted it aside, at least for the moment. And as I ran away, I heard him sigh, sit down, and begin to sing;
"She swims the Secret Sea of sleeps cocoon
It's soothing hands caress her dreams she breathes
She tries to hold him in her arms
But sleep walks away
She holds but light burns the day…."
A/N: And here ends the chapter...due to an awful case of writer's block. I hope you liked it.