Disclaimer: I do not own Ancient Magus Bride. Gods, I WISH I had that kind of imagination!
Author's Note: I know this is a rather small fandom (at least on this site), but I've been reading the manga and falling in love with the story again and I just HAD to write something. This is a little drabble about one of my favorite side-romances of all time: between the Leannan Sidhe and the human man, named Joel. I'm a sucker for tragic romances, so of COURSE they needed a tribute! Hope you enjoy!
Mortal Love
She did not love him. She didn't.
It was not love that kept her in his garden. It was only interest. A strange fascination over a mortal's care and tenderness towards nature – especially since mortals have a tendency to destroy nature more often than not. His roses were beautiful, vibrant, and always blooming in season. As a fae, she couldn't help but be drawn to such a lovely place.
So, it wasn't out of love for him, but for nature, and for his care.
Before she began to live in his garden, she never gave a thought toward a mortal's welfare. Young men were food, nothing more. She'd be their muse, and he'd be her meal. It was simple.
Until him.
For one, tantalizing moment, their eyes met.
His name was Joel. And she did not love him. Only found that moment, those eyes of his, so unbearably fascinating. That was why she stayed with him. It was nothing more.
It would be a shame for this strange mortal to die at her hands, so she waited patiently until he ceased to withhold any interest for her anymore.
The problem was, fae were such fickle creatures. Fascination either was cast off at the slightest distraction, or held on, steadfast, until the world ended around them.
To her, Joel was the latter one.
For years, decades really, she hung around his garden, never once leaving to find a fresh meal. Hunger didn't gnaw at her soul, but something else did. Something strange and scary and wonderful and warm.
But it was not love.
Leannan Sidhe do not love. What mortals call "love," her kind called "food." It was natural. There was nothing shameful about it.
And yet...
It never once crossed her mind to drink his blood, to consume his soul. It never once crossed her mind that she desired him in the way young men once tempted her.
She only wanted...
To be with him.
To watch over him.
To admire how he cared for his garden.
And to hope, in her innermost heart, that he would once again turn around and see her, hiding in the rose bushes...
Perhaps fae tend to forget about the passage of time, because immortality grants them ample time to make decisions, to wander or to stay put, to fall in love or not fall in love.
But alas, mortals have such fleeting lives. As the years rolled by, and she watched him, contentedly in a quiet corner of the garden, it was so easy to forget that his youth would not last.
Until wrinkles began to show.
Until his movements began to slow.
Until his heartbeat sounded strained, like every beat struggled to make another thump.
And she still would not love him. Even as the thought of his impending death terrified her. Even as the older he became, as his body grew frail, the more her chest clenched tightly, like someone or something was twisting her insides, cruelly, relentlessly.
She did not love him. Because if she did, he would die.
And she could not bear that.
But then, one day, he did not get up at all to tend his garden.
In a fit of desperation, she left his garden for the first time in decades to seek out "the little robin" that the frightening boneheaded halfling was keeping as an apprentice. The robin – her name was Chise – could help him, couldn't she? She could save him.
Because she lo-
No, no, she didn't. She couldn't.
The halfling, named Elias, cruelly reminded her of her nature, of how every man she met died because she was a parasite. She couldn't help sucking away their essence, their life. But this one was different! He had to keep living! He had to!
She wouldn't say why, even as her heart finally whispered it.
But Chise knew.
The little robin pushed her limits to help her. She stayed up for days and days to make a fairy ointment, even though it was a strain on her mortal body. She watched Chise, feeling her chest swell with gratitude. Outside of the little garden, she never gave much thought to mortals besides her own, but now she was beginning to rethink their strengths.
Mortals could be cruel, but also be so kind.
Like Chise.
Like... him.
The ointment was rubbed on his eyes and he was placed outside on a chair in his garden. She approached him, her heart thumping nervously, her insides twisting and churning most uncomfortably.
His eyes shone with recognition. And he smiled.
Although he was dying – and most likely caused by her, however unintentionally – that smile and the moment his eyes glinted with love and happiness at seeing her again with his mortal eyes, she exhaled and her eyes filled with tears. She wept as she knelt by his side, wept as he confessed that he suspected her to be fae – but had no problems with that, mortals were so confusing and wonderful – wept on and on and on as he passed on from the world.
As she stood alone in Joel's garden, beautiful and blooming with the roses he had taken such diligent care of, she vowed to wait for his soul. To wait for their reunion. Even if she was a fae. Even if he was a mortal.
Because maybe...
Maybe she did love him.
Not as a parasite.
Not as a Leannan Sidhe.
But perhaps... as a mortal.