Dead Daisy
MikazukiNika
2 Feburary 2020
Written for the Nanatsu no Taizine "Seasons" Vol. II
It can be said that the four races in this world are the representatives of time.
In the bitter cold and inevitable death of winter, the demon race thrives, leaving destruction in its wake. Destroy as the demons might, the fairies bring rebirth and gentle warmth in the spring, and the tired world wakes once more. In the summer, when the hard work in the fields begins and the heat of the sun wipes away any lingering memories of the icy winds of winter, the goddess clan basks in the attentions of the human race. Then the harvest comes, a time to appreciate the earth and its gifts, and so the giants dance in tune with its spirit.
It is all perfectly balanced.
But what happens when one such representative of time falls out of step? When a demon stops destroying and killing, when a goddess turns wrathful, when a giant abandons tradition? What happens when a fairy turns away from the joy and warmth and rebirth of spring?
Not all flowers are beautiful.
And those that cluster so sweetly around the cold body of the Saint, frozen in eternal bloom just as the fairy's own body is frozen in eternal youth, Gerheade thinks, must be the ugliest of them all.
It's a simple thing, really. The first time she'd ever met him, Ban was replanting the Sacred Tree and nourishing it with his blood. How could she look into his face and not immediately understand the truth?
"No matter what form I take, I will protect what you hold dear in your place."
Gerheade chuckles under her breath. Idiot.
Pain, hard-won wisdom, and a life longer than she knows what to do with. Shutting away an incomplete, cracked heart when she sees the way Ban looks at the slumbering Elaine. Always doing what is necessary.
Duty. What is duty?
The answer must be in the helpless eyes of her people that look to her for aid, and the shadowed place by the side of the Fairy King.
So she doesn't bother getting to know him or getting close to him. Only a foolish little girl would waste her time trying to get the love of her life's reincarnation to notice her when he so clearly is in love with someone else. But that is fine. Even if he doesn't remember that promise, shedoes.
And when news arrives that the long, 700 year wait for the Third Fairy King, Harlequin's, return is finally over, she smiles.
Her gaze trails lazily over to the body of the Holy Maiden, Elaine, who sleeps peacefully in her bed of flowers, embraced by the trunk of the Sacred Tree. Gently, Gerheade floats over to her. Pale skin, golden hair, a dress of pure white. If she hadn't known what the goddess clan looked like already, she might've mistaken her for a wingless angel.
They hadn't been friends. Her place is at the King's side as an aide, not as a companion. She was civil and accommodating of the Saint where necessary.
To her, Elaine is nothing but an ugly memory. A reminder of who she used to be.
Expression darkening, Gerheade reaches out to one of the many flowers around Elaine, picking it up and caressing its soft petals. A pure, white daisy. Rebirth. The common fairies must seriously believe Ban's words, she thinks, that he'll bring the Saint back to life.
Rebirth, and loyal love.
Gerheade crushes the flower in her hand.
Elaine… thank you for being so useful even after your death. She smiles pleasantly into the girl's sleeping face. I'm so grateful.
She hears footsteps in the tunnels leading to the chamber then. Drawing away from the Saint with a flat look, the King's advisor moves out of sight to allow Ban to perform his annual duties in peace.
It's almost disgusting how his mask of carelessness immediately drops when he sees her there, softening into something pensive and intimate.
Gerheade smiles.
"Ban-dono?" she begins softly, coming out of her hiding place. Gerheade spreads her arms welcomingly. "Thanks to your long years of devotion, the forest is well on its way to restoration," she compliments.
Ban does not turn to face her, opting to put his long, burgundy coat back on instead. "There's no need to thank me," he says, as he has every year. "I'm just doing this for Elaine, that's all."
Gerheade only smiles knowingly at his stiff and aloof tone. She expected him to turn and leave, blinking in surprise when he instead chooses to address her.
"You said you've been here since the time of the previous king or the king before that or something, right?" Gerheade doesn't answer, the crinkles of her smile turning cold with calculation. "If someone like you became the king instead, wouldn't the other fairies be happy?"
"We don't do things the same way as human kingdoms," Gerheade refutes. Her shoulders are straight and proud as she recounts the ways of her people. "The Fairy King isn't chosen by others, nor does he proclaim himself king. He is an existence chosen by the Sacred Tree."
"If that's the case then I don't qualify either."
Gerheade scoffs. "Of course not, you lowly human." Her tone is level with fact. "Harlequin is the only fairy fit to be King. You, after all, are nothing but this forest's nutrients."
Ban finally turns to look at her at that.
Do you see what is happening here now, Rou?
Tense limbs, narrowed eyes, and an unimpressed frown. Ban is searching her gaze for her intentions.
"Ban, you're in there aren't you?!"
"Please open up!"
Gerheade smirks at the sound of voices in the tunnel that leads to the chamber, long since sealed by her magic. It seems their time is almost up.
"I expected you to be at least a little taken aback by my attitude," she comments.
She knows he's catching on when she catches the way his lip curls into a nasty grin. "It's not surprising," he says. "I already know there are plenty of you fairies who can't stand me being called the Fairy King. Not that I asked any of you to do that in the first place."
Neither of them is a fool. Politics always exists in a spectrum, no matter the race. Within the Fairy Realm, there are plenty of those who are disgusted by the fact that the human outlaw who'd taken from the Fountain of Youth and killed the Holy Maiden in the process is now beloved by a great number of the common fairies as their king. Ban, of course, has failed to earn the approval of those who live within the Realm instead of the Forest.
Such as the rest of the Fairy King's Council.
"According to Elaine, the human race's plans for you fairies and the Fairy King's Forest weren't that pleasant. So it's only natural for you to despise me."
She can't help it.
She lets out a short, ironic laugh, "Hah." A twisted smile works its way onto her face. "No, that's not it at all, Ban."
Snow-white hair, thick, dark lashes, an uneven upper lip. She could see it all so clearly from her place in his lap.
"I wonder if she'd be happy…"
A pure wish tainted by bloodshed and frayed at its edges.
"Despite all of this," Gerheade's voice ebbs and swells with scathing, false superiority, smothering every emotion underneath it. "I'm quite grateful to you."
Yes, that's right.
Grateful.
Her eyes flit over to Elaine with cold glee.
"Hah?" Ban prompts.
"You resurrected this forest after it was burned down by the disgusting demons and was lost to us. Certainly, an ordinary human couldn't have accomplished that." Her tone drops to cold truth once more. "But no human can ever become the Fairy King."
Breathing deep, Gerheade executes her 20-year-old plan.
The plan to help Rou keep his promise of staying by her side.
"The Fairy King must be chosen by the Sacred Tree," she waves her short, berry wand, and the roots of the Forest rise to her call. "What this forest needs is Harlequin… and no one else!"
The roots burst out of the ground of the chamber, twisting and racing towards their target. Ban hops away from them casually, hands still stuffed into his pockets. He doesn't want to hurt her if he doesn't have to… how sweet, her teeth must be rotting.
"I told you that I don't have any intention of being your king," Ban's long jacket flutters behind him whenever he jumps. "I don't know what the hell you're trying to do," his grin turns razor-sharp with excitement and adrenaline despite his next words, "But knock it off!"
Gerheade flinches back when the roots are destroyed by Ban's powerful kicks and their remains come sailing towards her.
Ban is a lot closer than he was before, now.
"Gerheade, listen closely," he says lazily. "I'm planning to leave this forest whether you ask me to or not."
Hah… you still don't understand.
"But that wouldn't do…" Gerheade murmurs darkly.
You still don't understand, Rou.
"What?"
A root wiggles up from the ground behind her.
Jerking her head up, Gerheade stares straight at Ban, but then sends her attack hurtling towards the body of the Saint.
"You bitch!"
She isn't at all surprised when he goes flying to his beloved's aid. Then, a satisfying squelch announces the success of her plan.
Ban is frozen in mid-air, impaled through the abdomen by the sharp, pointed tree root.
You said you'd stay with me forever, right, Rou…?
Then stay.
The sound of a sword slashing through the barrier of roots at the entrance into the chamber finally reaches her, and Gerheade turns to look over her shoulder impassively.
"Ho? Are you the human who wandered in here with Ban?" she asks. Then, as if sighing at a chore, "I suggest you leave this forest at once. Before you regret not doing so, you see."
Gerheade isn't bothered by the human's horrified gasp when her gaze finally lands on Ban. His blood, just as she'd planned, is now dripping slowly down. It's genius. Thanks to his eternal life, Ban will be forever stuck in a state of partial death, his consciousness gone as his body struggles to keep him alive, bleeding out all the while.
The way it falls upon Elaine's cold body is morbidly romantic.
Almost.
"Do not fret," Gerheade says calmly to the human as if to soothe her. "This man will live on for the sake of the forest as its new Fountain of Youth."
Her voice softens.
"At his beloved's side…"
She isn't talking about Elaine.
"Forever."
Gerheade smiles.
What happens when a representative of time falls out of step? When a demon stops destroying and killing, when a goddess turns wrathful, when a giant abandons tradition? What happens when a fairy disguises selfishness as duty?
"I have also… committed an unforgivable sin."