Fae AU. Warning that this will be dark.
His eyes filled with green. He walked among the barks, feet stepping on moss and trees of yesteryear, feasting his eyes with the ochres and yellows and the colored shocks of flower's petals. He tilted his head upwards, smiling as he saw the viridiscent mosaic. The trees were easily several houses tall, reaching up to the golden rays as if wanting to trap it. Birdsongs came in lulls and bursts, the improvised tempo working together as well as any melody.
"Allen!" it was said with such energy that he could feel the flapping of so many birds in the distance, black against the red-gold sky dotted with pink clouds.
She appeared then, so suddenly he would swear blind he had lost those few seconds of time to an unseen enchanter. She crossed her arms in a gesture of impatience, wood-colored eyes narrowing.
His sister, barely on the cusp of adulthood, had given their father many headaches in her youth. And how couldn't she, when she disdained the common practices of her fellow women, preferring to pick fights around the village. Wearing purpling bruises with pride, drinking until one couldn't be sure if it was blood or wine running through her veins. Refusing to marry or even to wear skirts, preferring the practicality of clothing worn by males.
He would smile every time a small argument broke out at the table, their similarities far more than simply brown hair and eyes. They were simply too much alike.
He would be forever grateful to his father for his endless patience. He knew he wasn't an easy child. A picky eater, complaining about bread being boring, food being too salty, the taste making his teeth shiver. He hated the sound of church bells, which were loud, much too loud, forcing him to cover his ears.
He looked nothing like the rest of his family. Allen was fair of hair, clear eyed, bird boned. He was as pretty as any girl in the village, with his blond hair that covered his pointed ears.
To give a thing a name was to give it power, and to call a thing by its name made you have power over it.
True names were a practice widely known yet not understood by the folk in his village, instead opting to name their offspring when they started showing some personality. And if you knew someone's nature — knew their Name — you could control them.
Babies usually weren't named until their first birthday. They had to prove themselves capable of surviving a full year, before they were a person and invited into the family.
Germaine, loud of voice. Allen, beloved.
He tended to call her Bell, to her endless chagrin and amused smiles.
The woods were lovely, dark and deep. The sun was sinking down, behind the tops of the trees. They should be returning soon, before the sun went down completely and all that remained were the pitch-black darkness and the howling of wolves.
Allen turned around at her voice, already beginning to make his way back, when he stopped. A blue-green dot of light had materialized a few feet to his left. He had never seen anything like it before.
"Where are you going?"
He just wanted to get a closer look at the thing. A will'o-the-wisp? He couldn't sure, having never learned much about them in particular. If there was one, there were others.
When he was a step away from the light, it flickered out. Allen watched as more little lights appeared in the distance. A line. Follow me.
He did, searching for the next multicolored light, ignoring Germaine's shouts. The sooner he saw, the sooner he would go back, and he would apologize for scaring his sister and being out in the woods so late.
There was something in the air. Something familiar and cloyingly sweet, distinct from the green scent of the woods. He heard something, a new sound, too discordant to be considered music. It sounded like apple leaves and the sunset and winter chill. Of flowers and death and rebirth. He mouthed the song as he took a few more steps. "Lu li la, lu li la..."
It started quiet, then it grew louder and louder until-
Light filled his vision.
And suddenly he was somewhere else, he couldn't see where, full of mirrors. He could glimpse distorted reflections, flashes of things out of the corner of his eyes that could have been himself or something else just as easily.
"Germaine?" he called out, slowly coming back onto himself. His voice echoed through the place until the word lost all meaning.
It was disorientating. His palms hit the reflective surface more often than not, instead of a path, and saw his own frightened eyes and pale face looking back at him more than a few times. He didn't know which way to go.
He ran, breathing heavily, heart pounding faster and faster and-
He found himself surrounded by strange people in even stranger attires. He was confused, too, by the men's speech, a language he knew but not the one he was used to. The words, the grammar, the accent.
One of them crouched down, speaking slowly and deliberatedly. "Je suis François." he said, pointing at his chest. "Tu t'appelles comment?" When the boy didn't answer, he resorted to say, " Prénom?"
His eyes were burning. Where was he? Where was his sister? "Je m'appelle Allen. Où suis-je?"
"Vous êtes à Lucifenia."
The boy stopped short, unable to recognize the name of the place. He had never gone far from his village, how was he supposed to go home? He hadn't meant to appear here, that had been an accident.
"Is there anyone who can take me back home?"
François and another man exchanged grim looks between each other. That made Allen's stomach churn.
"Oui. La Princesse, Riliane Lucifen of the Unseelie Court."
"Haven't you learned it is unwise to summon us?"
Allen turned around. He had heard no footsteps, yet behind him was a young woman there, about his age. Fair of hair, blue-eyed. Black flower clips kept her bangs from obscuring her vision, her pale orange dress dotted with yellow lenten roses and winter aconite.
What Allen wanted to know was why did she look like him.
This... this was unusual. When her name had first been spoken, she'd only been a bit annoyed-didn't the idiots know any better than to summon her? Apparently not, since there she was. The boy, on the other hand... that was interesting. He looked almost exactly like her-slight differences in structure, as expected from a boy, but the gold of his hair and the blue of his eyes matched hers perfectly. She'd looked at herself in the mirror more than enough to be able to recognize the exact hue.
The men were looking at her with bated breath, as if expecting her to lay a curse on them for daring to speak her name aloud.
"You can go," she declared imperiously, inclining her head a little to the left. When they failed to move, seeming stunned by their good fortune, she could feel her face twisting slightly. "Well? Off with you, before I change my mind!"
Within moments, the sounds of their rushed footsteps were gone, and she turned back to the boy, smiling. He was shaking a little bit, staring at her with both curiosity and fear.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," she said, smile growing wider. "I'm not going to hurt you, silly boy. In fact, I rather like you. How would you like to see the fae realm before you go?"
His eyes widened a little bit more. "Yes."