[Summary] – Luna/Blaise [Fairy!AU] While he is like a butterfly, her wings are those of a moth, hanging in tatters down her back.
A/N – This happened when I was watching Ripper Street; it's based off Alice's story. I wrote this for Lystra (Books to Ashes). I'm really sorry about the bad characterisations – I don't write either of them particularly often, and I didn't realise how hard it would be until I'd started, especially as they're both children (pre-Hogwarts ages). It was supposed to be a little confusing – this only shows what Luna knows, and that's not a lot (she's made up things to cover what she doesn't understand, and here she ignores anything she can't explain) but I'm not sure how well that comes across. It probably goes a little too far.
Also, this covers several years - that's not really mentioned because Luna doesn't really notice time passing.
"Luna? Luna, can you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where you are? How you got here?"
The fairy helped her. He showed her the way. He took her hand and led her away from the smoke; away from the fire; away from the Witch Queen burning inside.
"She was evil," he said, pulling her with him. "She clipped your wings." His own wings fluttered beautifully behind him, delicate and soft, shining in the moonlight.
"My wings?" she asked, following him; allowing herself to be led.
"Yes, they've taken them from you; stolen the very thing that makes you special. Without them you're ordinary," he said, and she hated them for that; for making her ordinary. "But it's okay," he continued, bringing her hope once more. "We can help you. We can make you whole again; clean again. And they will be punished."
"Luna? Are you listening? I need you to answer."
"He took me away."
"Who took you away, Luna?"
"He took me somewhere better; somewhere safe. Somewhere I could regain my wings."
"Luna? Who took you?"
He took her to a magical place; real magic, not like the bubbling cauldrons of the Witch Queen or the spinning whirring metal of the man. Away from the castle where she was kept locked away; this was a field of beautiful flowers of every colour, stretching on as far as the eye could see. Trees growing tall, unhindered; a beautiful river, the water glittery by the sun.
"You're safe here," he told her. "Safe from the Witch Queen, and all those how wish to harm you."
"And the man?" she asked.
"Yes, safe from the Witch King, too," he said, releasing her hand. "Here you will always be safe."
She reached for him but he moved away, arms spread and wings catching the breeze.
He stopped when she did not follow, hovering just out of her reach.
"But maybe it will take time," he murmured, lowering himself, crouching to soften his landing. "You will stay with me." His demeanour changed once more, brightening.
"With you?" She wanted to reach out for him, but she did not want to mar him with her touch.
"Yes." He smiled at her. "I am Blaise."
"I do not know who I am," she said, only now realising that this were true.
"You are Luna," he replied, perplexed, a small frown marring his features. She did not like it there; it did not belong on his face. "They have done more harm to you than I thought, for you to forget something so important."
"My name?"
"Your identity." He turned, walking ahead of her, wings fluttering with each step. She followed, listening to him hum softly to himself, entranced by the sound.
"Luna? Who took you?"
"The fairy. He took me away. Where I would be safe from the Witch King and the Witch Queen."
"Luna-"
"Somewhere I would be safe."
They reached the forest of trees, so tall to her, but he spread his wings and flew to the highest branches with ease. He disappears for a moment, and she would worry if she did not know him so well. He will always come back for her.
There is an inhuman screeching from where she had last seen him; a sound that does not belong in this magical place, and she can almost feel the worry bubbling in her chest like the liquid in the Witch Queen's cauldron, but he is there again.
"Mamma says we must build you somewhere to live." His smile is reassuring, though she's already forgotten why she might need it. There is nothing to worry about here; nothing to fear.
She is safe.
"You are safe here, Luna. You're safe."
"No. I was safe with them. Now I am at the mercy of the Witch King, for the Witch Queen is surely dead."
"Luna, you can't- Luna..."
She does not know days, the sun is always shining here, but sometimes he must leave her; he always returns. They spend much time together – in the home he had built her; in the clearing; by the river.
"Where are the other fairies?" she asks one visit. "When can I see them?"
"They are waiting for your wings to grow back. They will welcome you then." He presses his fingertips lightly into her shoulder blades, sighing softly and allowing his hand to gently trace the curve of her spine as he drops it to his side. "Not yet. Soon maybe."
"Yes," she whispers. She can see his disappointment, though he hides it so well, and she knows she is the cause. She will have to do better; for him. "Soon."
"What do you remember? Of the King and Queen."
"The Witch King and the Witch Queen."
"Yes, what do you remember of them?"
He grows weary of checking, she can tell this. He shouldn't be weary or disappointed or any of the other myriad of negative emotions she sees flit across his face from time to time. Always when he thinks she isn't looking. But she sees.
"Maybe," she suggests, when his hidden disappointment becomes too much for her, "we could use magic. Maybe magic will help my wings grow back."
He looks up at her, surprise registering on his features.
"Yes," he smiles as he speaks; that smile hasn't properly surfaced in a while, and she is glad. Glad that she can bring it back after so long.
It takes a while, but he uses his magic – pure and warm and safe; not the magic of the Witch Queen, for this is healing magic – to help her wings to grow back.
But while he is like a butterfly, her wings are those of a moth, hanging in tatters down her back.
He sees how tainted she is, and this time he does not attempt to conceal his disappointment.
"Luna? Please tell me. You must tell me what you remember."
"A man – the Witch King – on fire – he screams my name, but... He is crying. He is crying, and I am falling. Falling. The Witch King reaches for me, but now the fairies have me."
"I love you," she whispers, running her fingers through his hair. He stiffens immediately, and there should be no place for the expression on his face here. He should never look so horrified; so betrayed; so disgusted.
"You cannot love!" he yells, pushing her away. The noise is frightening, there is never anything loud here, but his actions dwarf that feeling ten-fold. "You cannot love!" he shrieks again, though it's starting to sound a little less like words. She remembers that sound, distantly, but before she can focus on the memory it is gone.
His teeth begin to lengthen into points, his eyes turning black; his skin cracks and takes on an appearance more like scales; his nails lengthen into talons and she thinks he will attack – she thinks he will hurt her – and he does, in his way.
He turns and leaves her there, flies away all the while making that horrible shrieking sound that is almost words. Others join in, and it hurts her ears. It hurts so much, but not as much as the pain filling her chest.
Her screams join the cries
She screams and screams until the blackness swallows her.
"And then what, Luna?"
"The fairy has me, and he leads me away, and then..."
It is a long while before she awakes, and she thinks that it must have been some horrible dream, but... but she hasn't dreamed since she got here.
She looks around the home that he had built her, sees the ruined walls and the destroyed furniture, and she cannot hide from the truth any longer.
Something has happened here; something horrible, and she knows that she was the cause of it.
She steps out into the clearing, the same clearing that he had first shown her, but it is dark now. It is finally night, and that is wrong. There is should be no darkness in this place, and she doesn't like it; she hates the moonless starless sky for it is nothing. It is not beautiful like this place once was, and she thinks that she brought it with her. For the Witch King must have found her.
There are shadows moving around the edges of the clearing, the vague flickering of lights accompanying them. She wants to move closer to the brightness, but she knows that he is waiting for her there.
But still, they come to her, illuminating the clearing in all its horrific detail, and she sees them; sees the being that she had so wanted to meet. She sees the dead fairies scattered around the clearing, their wings broken. Clipped.