{the fairy lullaby}
The sights and smells and sounds were intoxicating. Naminé thought she was prepared for this party, but the moment she stepped through the gate she realized she knew nothing. She could not think coherently with the strangled thrum of music pounding in her head, and she could not breathe properly with hoards of bodies pressing up and moving wildly against her. Everyone seemed to be having a blast, screaming and laughing and dancing. All except her, it seemed.
She'd almost talked to someone, for real, when she'd hidden under the table, but she'd gotten scared and ran. Vanitas was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered why he had taken her there. Why he was even there at all. She stood still, feeling confused and disoriented, and when someone grabbed her arm to pull her into a line of dancers, she shrieked and tore herself away.
Perhaps she was not made for human interaction. It seemed like the Tower she'd lived in had kept her body in a hard shell, and now that she was out in the world her skin was too tender to touch. She couldn't stand being too close to anyone, or else her skin would crawl uncomfortably. Sweat gathered around her spine, and she tried to distance herself from the dancers, desperate to find Vanitas and ask if they could leave.
Naminé froze for a moment as someone walked past her. She stared at him, her discomforts slipping away as he turned to look at her, his short silvery hair dancing around and slapping his ebony wooden mask. His eyes were glowing pools of aquamarine, shimmering in the torchlight. Naminé stepped back, her mouth opening as she tried to grasp why this boy captured her attention so abruptly. Something about him was odd, and familiar, like she'd met him somewhere before. She couldn't be sure why.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice splitting the music, and hitting her ears like thunder claps. She stared at him in awe. "I am terribly sorry to bother you, but have you seen a boy with a motley mask? He's shorter than me, brunette?"
Naminé did not trust herself to speak, so she shook her head, and the boy sighed and turned away. "Wait!" she cried, though she did not know why, and when he turned around she just stared at him. Suddenly she knew where she knew him from, and she swallowed her words when she opened her mouth. She couldn't say something so foolish. So when he stared at her expectantly, she simply shook her head and took her leave. She couldn't even muster an apology to the boy.
How did you tell a stranger you had dreams about them anyway? It was silly, but Naminé recognized him from her drawings on the wall. She knew what he looked like beneath the mask, and she could almost taste his name, but that was a bit too elusive, and it remained in the murky depths of her memory.
She stood at the edge of the dance floor, trying to catch her breath, and she stared down at her shoes in confusion and fear. She did not want to be here, and she did not want to hear this music anymore, and she just wanted to go back to the ship and sleep. She felt tears gathering in her eyes, and she shivered, gripping her skirt and feeling a bit of hair slip against her face.
Naminé jumped back as someone stepped into her direct line of vision, and she looked around wildly for someone, maybe Vanitas, to get her away. But no, nothing, and she was forced to stare at the stranger's masked face as he got nearer and nearer, invading her personal space.
"Hello!" he chirped, and for a moment Naminé simply gaped at him. She realized she knew him after she saw his eyes, and she blinked in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, stepping back and looking around frantically. She hoped now that Vanitas wouldn't see. "I thought Vanitas told you to stay on the ship."
The boy looked taken aback for a moment, but ease slid onto his face as he smiled slightly. "The worst he can do is flog me," he said with a sad smile. "Which he won't, because why should he? He left you all alone, and he really needs to learn how to take care of his toys."
"I'm not his toy!" Naminé snapped irritably. The ray of confidence slid away fast, and she flushed and sputtered. "I mean… I—I…"
"Don't worry!" Roxas shook his head and grinned. "I'm glad you think like that."
Naminé stared down at her feet, swishing her skirt nervously. She didn't want to look at his face. "Why are you risking getting beaten?" she asked in a small voice.
"I wanted to talk to ya."
She looked up at him, confusion knitting her features. "You could do that any time," she said slowly, her head pounding as music hummed in her ears. "Why now?"
He shrugged, and Naminé looked him over for the first time. He wasn't wearing the grungy white shirt and hole infested vest that he'd adorned that afternoon. Instead, he wore a sleeveless jerkin, the fabric so light it looked as if it were made of silk. It was black, though he wore a gray shirt beneath it. She also noted his mask seemed to be made of leaves.
"Couldn't you tell me later?" she asked, glancing around once more. "I don't want you to get hurt on my account."
"I won't," he said, shaking his head. "Don't worry. But it can't wait."
"It can't?" she asked distantly, frowning as he took her arm. "What are you doing?"
"The music's too loud!" he cried, dragging her away from the party, and as uncomfortable as it made her, it was a relief to be able to hear herself think again. Naminé saw an instrument hanging on a strap and bumping against his hip as he walked, and she wondered where he'd gotten it, or why he had it.
She stopped when they neared the gate, and he stopped with her. She bit her lip and pulled her arm from his grasp, taking a small step back. "If I leave he'll beat us both," she said softly. He turned to face her, and she noticed how sad he looked. He managed a smile somehow, and nodded.
"Yeah, sorry." He shifted awkwardly, his smile growing silly instead of sad. "But we're less likely to get caught here right?"
"I guess."
"Why'd he even bring you?" The boy wrinkled his nose. "He's not paying any attention to you, or nothin'."
"I don't know," she answered honestly, feeling dumb again. "I didn't have any choice. If I didn't put the dress on, he probably would've made you or someone to force it on me…"
Roxas looked uneasy for a moment, but he continued to smile, albeit oddly. "How old are you?" he asked, stepping back and looking her over. She stared at him, not expecting this question. For a moment she stood there, the music behind her still loud enough to feel in her bones.
"Fourteen," she said tentatively.
"You don't look it." He tilted his head, and eyed her up and down. "Betcha you could pass for a boy if you cut off all that hair."
"Excuse me?" Her eyes flashed with anger, and he looked surprised when she began to back away. "What does that mean? I'm not a boy!"
"Well that I can see!" he laughed, and she felt her anger grow. Why was he being so mean?
"Shut up!" she cried, spinning around. "You're not funny at all!"
"Whoa, wait!" he gasped, grabbing her arm as she tried to run off. He was faster than she'd expected, and she looked back at him fearfully. "I'm sorry, miss, I didn't mean nothin' by it."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, her rage only increasing, and she felt her face grow hot with her fury. "You weren't so mean earlier! What is it you came here for, really? It certainly doesn't seem so important."
He whistled low as she seethed, and suddenly she broke out of her wrath, and she looked around wildly, fear enveloping her. "You've got a will of your own…" he said slowly, frowning at her. "Why does he want you?"
"What?" She couldn't have felt more confused. She hated the feeling, the helplessness and the empty feeling that captured her insides. She didn't want to be stupid, but it was who she was. She couldn't change her sheltered upbringing. "Shouldn't you know that?"
He was silent for a few moments, his blue eyes flickering away from her face. "He doesn't tell me everything," he said quietly. He looked up at her. "What happened with you and the wolf?"
"Didn't we already have this conversation?" she asked weakly, too tired to be angry anymore.
"Well, tell me again, please?"
She sighed and shook her head, pieces of her hair rustling. "I just spoke to it. I don't know what happened exactly."
"You didn't just speak to him," Roxas said, his eyes bright with something she couldn't catch. "You commanded him. You reached out to him and he reached back. Why?"
"I don't know." She felt sick to her stomach. There was something strange about the way Roxas was behaving. "You should go back before Vanitas catches you."
"He won't," Roxas said quickly, his lips quirking. "Don't worry, he won't. Anyway, you have to know something about why Vanitas has you. He kidnapped you, right?"
She gave him a curious look. "Yes." He had been there long enough to know this, so why…?
Naminé jumped out of her skin when the dream-boy from earlier brushed past her, not even sparing her a glance, and he frowned down at Roxas. She stared at him with wide eyes, trying to find her voice to ask him why she'd subconsciously drawn him on her wall. But he was already speaking to the blond boy, his voice urgent.
"I have to go," he said, his voice strained. "Can you make sure Sora gets home?"
"I'm sorry," Roxas said, his blue eyes sparking with faux shock. "You actually trust me enough to leave his princeliness to my skill?"
Naminé could not see past the dark wooden mask of the silver haired boy, but she could tell her was glaring down at Roxas icily. "If I did not believe you could do it, I would not ask," he said stiffly. "You're a fool, wind dancer, but you do seem to have a fondness for Sora. Though I'm sure there are things about you that would make him cringe to hear."
Roxas merely laughed, looking strangely delighted to simply be having a conversation with the man in the wooden mask. "I've heard things about you that would make him retch," he said with a silly grin on his lips. "I think it best if we keep pretending we're who we appear to be, and keep the past buried in the ground, where dead things best stay, aye?"
"You talk like a pirate." The tall man scowled, and Roxas's grin grew wider.
"And you talk like a bleeding posh lass, but I don't complain about your company none!" Roxas put a heavy emphasis on every word, and Naminé wondered if he was mocking the silver haired man with his funny words and gruff accent.
The man sighed, but she saw a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, and he nodded slowly. "You're a strange human," he said carefully, and then he eyed Naminé, as if he'd only just noticed her. "Though not nearly as monstrous as I assumed you to be."
Roxas seemed to pause at this, his smile dimming to something sad again. "You were right to assume," he said quietly. "All men are monsters." The man stared at him, moments ticking past, and he turned to walk toward the gate. His last words hung in the air long after he left.
"If that is true, than gods help you when the real monsters come." Naminé found herself shuddering, and her ears rang as she watched him walk away. She had things to ask of him, and now she feared she'd never see him again. She cursed her meekness, and she cursed her voice for not raising itself the moment she recognized him. And she cursed Roxas, who turned to her as she began to back away.
"Do you want to go home?" he asked, his tone easy, as if the past conversation with the silver haired man had never happened.
"Home?" Naminé had thought about it many times, going back to the tower, but every time she thought about it the more she realized she was better off where she was, even if that meant being scared and hurt. She couldn't live under a rock anymore, and she had to start acting brave. Even if she wasn't really. "I don't have one… not really."
He stared at her, and she noticed this shocked him, his mouth opening wide for a long while. She stared back at him, her eyes scanning his face, and she found that she simply didn't understand him. She thought it was silly that he was acting this way, but then she was probably acting silly too. She just didn't know.
"That's awful sad…" he said in a breathy voice, his eyes growing wide. She shrugged, and he continued to stare until she grew so uncomfortable that she shook her head and turned away. She was done talking to him.
He let her go for whatever reason, and she was grateful for that. She was tired, and she wanted to find Vanitas quickly to ask him if they could leave. Or perhaps she could find the boy who stowed away in her dreams again… but she wouldn't know what to say. So she stood at the edge of the dance floor and stared up at the lanterns, her gaze growing sadder and sadder as she realized how hopeless she was.
She stayed very still as she listened to the sound of bells and chimes, the clap of music and drums, and she tried to smile to herself, but all she could think was that she'd never dance the way that girl danced. She pushed herself down under the water, trying to drown her thoughts, but that wouldn't work. The sea was a part of her, and because of that it did not muffle the music above.
Kairi shook her head and swam. Sometimes she thought about peeking up and showing herself to the humans of the Arcanum, or the magiclands as Ven called them. Ven had taught her enough of the world to know few things about the earth.
Ven came from the lands that seldom used magic, the one that native Arcanumites called the Kingdom of the Sightless. For whatever reason, and Kairi was never sure why, but it seemed like the Arcanumites simply disliked the plain folk. The ones who did not practice spellbinding and witchcraft, or sing songs to the gods to appease them or to rile them. Kairi had no gods, so she couldn't know.
Ven said the Kingdom of the Sightless was split into three factions. The Heartlands, which resided to the south, getting so hot in some places it made the Isle of Scorch look as saturated as a freshly watered plant. The Skylands, the strange middle child of the Sightless land, who could almost touch upon the magic of Arcanum. Almost. And then there were the Wastelands, north and cool and ruthless. The Fair Folk tended to the Wastelands sometimes, and magic could be sowed in the cold, unfertile ground if need be. In fact, now that Kairi recalled the faeries, she remembered there was a Faerie kingdom near the northern shores of the Wastelands.
Kairi wanted to be an Arcanumite. To sing her songs of magic and dance with the tune, and cast spells and heal people. She wanted to live where she could tease Ven for not being magic-born, and hate the Sightless for not seeing what they were loosing.
She ignored Demyx as he swam toward her, choosing to be rude rather than face him. He'd just want to take her to her father. She did not want to see her father, not now, not ever.
"Kairi, wait!" he cried, swimming after her. "Please! I haven't seen you in days!"
Just leave me be, she thought. I'm not a child anymore, I can do what I please!
He chased her, and she fled, and she thought that it was more fun than she'd expected. She swam faster than she'd ever swam before, water parting as she zipped through the sea. She did not stop until the water felt startling cold, and the darkness around her was so deep that not even her second sight could cut through the thick of it. He'd stopped following her long before, for whatever reason, but she'd kept going. Ven's words still hurt her, and she thought maybe if she kept swimming she'd just melt into the sea. She could only assume she'd gone the wrong way, because she felt like her skin was coated with ice.
Kairi swam upwards, breaking the surface and wincing as the chilly air slapped against her face, making her skin ripple on reflex. It relaxed, and she looked around. There was nothing, she realized while biting her lip. She'd swam too far north, and there was no land in sight.
East or west? She debated this amongst herself for a small while, wondering why she even bothered to feel anything. She felt contaminated, her body squirming as emotions roiled inside her, clutching at her. East there were a few islands, a few places she could rest, and west…
North and west were the Wastelands. Kairi had heard tales about the faerie court there, and about the makeshift communities some Folk developed, but she'd never seen it for herself. She'd always been too preoccupied with spying on humans, and there were not many humans in the Wastelands, at least not near the shore.
So when she swam west, she wasn't sure exactly what she was doing or where she was going. She had never gone too close to faeries before, especially not faerie kingdoms. It wasn't that she was unwelcome, because mermaids were Free Folk, bound by water and magic, not by will and duty. As long as they didn't make a mess they were welcome in Faery. But she preferred to stay away from faerie courts because of their tendency to grow out of hand.
She'd only ever been to the Golden Court, which as it would happen was much nearer to civilization. She'd only gone once, and that had been long ago. So long, she was sure she had gone with her father to discuss some sort of business. She couldn't stand being anywhere near her father anymore, which was sad, but it wasn't like anyone cared nowadays. All her father did was nag, and he didn't care too much that she wandered as long as she came home and didn't interact with humans.
This was the first time Kairi ever had no intention of returning home. And as she moved swiftly into the narrowed seapath of the Silver Court, she found that she was forgetting herself in her haste. She did not know what she wanted, but there was something calling her to this place, this faerie palace that did not seem wary of mermaids in their floors.
When she broke the surface, the first thing she heard was music. Oh, she'd heard music before, but never quite like this. She thought that she could give her voice just to listen to it forever, and she melted in the lilt and croon.
She smiled dreamily as the words caught her in a trance. She began to sing along without thought, leaning up against the cold marble that was cut just so the ocean could lap at its sides, and she watched drunkenly as little men danced before her, bobbing their heads in admiration as her voice carried with the tune.
This was no spell she was singing, though it took her a bit to notice. The words she spoke were in the tongue of man. But she sang without hesitation.
"'Tis there the fairy-court is holden,
Hush-a-by baby, babe not mine,
And there flow beor and ale so olden,
Hush-a-by baby, babe not mine,
And there are combs of honey golden,
Hush-a-by baby, babe not mine,
And there lie men in bonds enfolden,
Hush-a-by baby, babe not mine.
Shoheen sho, ulolo,
Shoheen sho, strange baby O!
Shoheen sho, ulolo,
You're not my own sweet baby—!"
She blinked as a hand caught her jaw, ceasing her song, and yet the music continued. There were a plethora of whines and shouts, and Kairi almost began to sing again. That was when her chin was jerked upward, and she saw the face of the person holding her.
Kairi gasped, and tried to jerk back, the scars on her neck tingling at the sight of his face. "You!" she cried, wiggling to get out of his grasp. She was still half drunk on music, however, and he had dragged her onto the marble before she could even begin to fight him.
"Let the child sing!" hooted a drunken fae, raising his goblet to her from his seat on white glass. Kairi stared around, and she realized she was at a party of some kind. But Ven said there was a party every night at a faerie court.
"She will do no more singing," the boy said in a dark voice, and suddenly the entire hall was silent. Kairi thrashed against the marble beneath her bare flesh, the air cool enough for her not to feel completely uncomfortable, but she knew well what was coming if she did not get back in the water.
"If you're going to kill her, at least make her sing 'til she dies," said a pretty little faerie with a slim, childish face, and wide black eyes.
Fear chilled Kairi to the bone, and she squirmed even more under the boy's tight grip. "Please let me go," she gasped, staring pitifully up at him. He did not so much as smile.
"What are you doing here, siren?" he asked, his voice even. Kairi would have spat at him in defiance, anger rippling the skin of her arms, if it had not been for the fear crippling her. The emotion tore at her insides, but she did not care. She was stupid, she realized, and she was going to die for her idiocy.
But she gathered her courage anyway. "Is this a private party?" she asked, her voice bitter with her contempt and quivering with fright. "I never would have guessed, faerie-knight. I'd be very pleased to hear why you are at court, seeing as you serve humans."
She smiled as the hall roared with laughter, and a ghost of a blush tinted the boy's cheeks as he glared down at her. She noticed a strange, dark, face-like thing hanging around his neck, and she peered up at it curiously. It was fascinating…
"She's got you, Riku," a very tall man chuckled, slamming his mighty hand on the boy's shoulder. Kairi felt it rattle her brain, and she frowned at him. "You haven't been to court since the old Queen of Summer fell, and that wasn't even your court."
"It was my court, Snow," Riku said sharply, shrugging the hand from his shoulder. Kairi saw the man looked hurt. "Have you forgotten?"
The faerie man looked troubled, and Kairi squirmed some more, feeling desperate for water. "Not your natural court!" he objected, trying to smile as Riku shook his head. "Come on, man, how long has it been since you've been home? Twenty years? Thirty? When did that queen of yours strike at the Skyland boy?"
"I can't remember," Riku said with a scowl as he watched Kairi begin to pant, her neck craning to look at the water. "Probably forty years ago, give or take. I was in her service before that, though, and I know he deserved it."
"I'm not saying he didn't," Snow said as the music started playing again, and the interest in the dying mermaid and the human serving knight was lost. "But… hey, we were never like the rest of them, were we? We care about what happens to the humans. The king does too, believe it or not, maybe you should give him a second chance."
Riku's eyes flashed to Snow. "The king cares about humans? Snow, I might serve humans, but you can't fool me. This court is all war and bloodshed, and humans are just apes with a bit of wits to them."
"The king isn't the king you knew," Snow said, eyeing Kairi as she slumped feebly against Riku, her skin peeling a little. "Well, he's still a little crazy, but he knows how to put on a good show. Go see for yourself."
"I'm afraid I must," Riku sighed, tossing Kairi in the water. She blinked as she felt her strength come pouring back into her, and she moved to swim away. But Riku's arm was still tight around her arm, so she had no choice but to bob upwards. She stared at Riku, and he stared at her. "And what am I going to do with you?"
"Don't kill me," she said, her voice weak. "Please."
Riku rose an eyebrow, and Snow laughed loudly. "Riku isn't so without honor that he'd slay a defenseless little lass like you!" Snow cried, and Kairi touched the scars on her throat, glancing quickly at the silver haired man. She noticed that the glamour was gone from his face, and everything about him was severely more prominent.
"I don't think I believe that…" Kairi whispered.
"I don't blame you," Riku said, his eyes narrowed at her. "Now, I'm not unkind, siren. Sora confirmed that a girl with a lovely voice had saved him, a girl he's been calling Kai. If this is true, than I owe you a debt. If it is untrue, I will know by whether or not my will acts on its on accord. So, for this one instance, I am yours to command. What is it you want?"
This shocked Kairi still, and when Riku noted that she wouldn't swim away, he let go of her. She stared at him for a very long time, her mouth gaping, and she shook her head. "Anything…?" she whispered, wondering about what she wanted. When Riku nodded, and Snow smiled a little, Kairi felt a swell of hope inside her. This is it, she thought. Oh, gods, maybe…
"Anything, lady siren," he said somberly, and it occurred to her that he might be expecting the worst. She didn't know how he'd feel about her request.
"Can you take me to see the king?" she asked, her voice soft. Riku looked surprised, as did Snow, but he nodded all the same.
"I am no knight of his, but I am certain he will hear you, if that is what you wish."
"It is," she said breathlessly. "More than anything."
Aqua was dancing with Terra at the edge of the floor when the announcement was made. Terra had suggested they leave, but Aqua shooshed him.
"I want to see this prince you're serving," she'd said while elbowing him in the chest. He stared at her and said nothing, looking like he was about to face the executioner's axe.
The music had died, as had the screaming and dancing. All eyes were on the queen, and Aqua couldn't help but think that she was incredibly beautiful. She felt someone by her side, and when she looked, a small girl with black hair was beside her, looking tired and confused. She was giving Terra an expectant stare, but he said nothing. Aqua smiled at her.
"You're Xion," Aqua said gently, and the girl nodded shyly.
"You're Aqua," she said, her voice soft and uncertain. Aqua smiled wider.
"I've heard so much about you, I'm sure I know you as well as Terra does."
"Maybe not," Xion sighed, looking up at the platform that the queen had chosen for her stage. She had guards on either side, which was expected from such an event.
"Aqua, we should go," Terra said quietly. Aqua glanced at him and frowned.
"Why?" she asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He looked uncomfortable. "Nothing, not really…"
"Then why…?"
"You never told her, did you, Terra?" Xion asked, sounding sad. Aqua looked at her, her eyes scanning the round, tanned face of the girl.
"What didn't you tell me?" Aqua asked slowly, looking back at her friend. "Terra?"
"I…" He looked very frightened all of a sudden, and that made Aqua frightened. So she grabbed his arm and shook her head.
"Hey," she said, giving him a small smile. "If you really want to leave, let's leave."
"She's going to find out, Terra," Xion whispered, but Terra waved her off and pulled Aqua away.
The guards caught him just as the queen had said his name, and Aqua stood confusedly, not even sure what the queen had been talking about. "Terra?" she asked as he beat them off, barking orders at them that made them stand stalk still. She found that everyone was staring at them now.
"Let's go," he gasped, grabbing her hand. He turned to Xion, who was already at a table, twirling a knife in hand. He didn't notice the masked boy who approached her.
Well that was fun. As usual, the song Kairi sings is an actual lullaby, because I'm not that talented. This one is an Irish one, and hell chapter namer. The song is actually called Fairy Lullaby. Wonderful thing to sing to your child. I don't know, it's about a woman who was kidnapped to be a wet nurse to a fairy child. I'm pretty sure it was created just to kill the myth that only children were stolen by fairies, though I'm pretty sure they were generally the most wanted.
I decided I need to start putting up the stash of chapters I have hidden away. I'm still three chapters ahead of this story, so I might update one more in a day or two just to put me on the track I was on with White Knight.
Enjoy the insight on the Faerie Court? Guys, I can't tell you how much I love imagining those things, their so horrifically beautiful. Of course, my source material for most of this shit made faeries look like the most fucked up, morally gray sons of bitches out there, so I guess that's the only image I have.
Hey, Shanna? Doesn't TMI have faeries in it? Tell me on a scale of... mmm, Snow White to Elizabeth Bathory, how fucked up is their court?
i love faeries guys shut up