Author's Note: I've been spending too much time thinking about me being a fairy (as evidenced here). Stop judging me. I did this because I wanted to.

Day Two-Hundred Eighteen: Froot by Marina and the Diamonds

The seasons were all in disarray, like they were due to fighting between the fictional fairy queen and king; the summer rose was covered in frost, while the spring flora competed with the brilliant leaves falling for the title of the prettiest hue. Seasons were all awry, but not because of angry fervor. In fact, it was quite the opposite. The real fairy queen and king were so passionate for each other that nature did not know what to do with itself. It was not the first time the fairy queen had ever been in love, but it was the first time her love had manifested itself in such odd ways. She supposed her indecisiveness when it came to love had finally decided to rectify itself; she could not be known as the little tart who gallivanted all throughout the countryside to find her one true love—or one other to spend the night with. She finally settled, since the small part of her knew that sooner or later, she'd run out of people to run to; nature was not a fairy machine. Good things came to those who wait, but luckily, she didn't have to wait very long—and thank goodness for that, since she was not exactly the most patient of beings.

The queen of fairies liked to stay in the meadow with her train of fairies. Her little fairy daughters liked to dance, sing, and weave flower crowns whilst the little fairy boys played in the meadows. She remained on her perch on the tree, overlooking everything. It was her rightful place as the queen. As queen, she had royal, sweet blood like red wine. It only felt fitting that she hung with the other fruits in the tree. Sometimes, it got dull just being with the fruits. Occasionally, Helen—the oldest of all the fairy girls and the next to be the queen—would come to say hello or talk for a while, but the queen would eventually wave her off so Helen could go frolic with her younger fairy companions. And so, the queen just waited for something exciting.

Soon after she began to court the king of the water nymphs—fairies, of sorts, in their own right—he sometimes began to visit her as she looked over her fairies. Finally, someone had come to cut her free from the tree.

It was supposed to be the most fruitful and successful, jovial courtship when it was between a water nymph and a flower fairy. It turned out to be quite a prolific and jubilant relationship between the two. The fairies, nymphs, sprites, fays, and others came to wish them good luck. The queen was hoping that luck was not required, as she felt it wasn't; they were already enamored with each other. All the young fairies, young and full of mirth, were eager to pluck the brightest and nicest fruit for the couple in love; this was a tradition held for many, many generations: fairies close to the couple would bring fresh fruit to wish the couple a fruitful marriage, abundant with offspring and passion.

Life was sweet and it felt good; the queen thought that things could not get much better than this. There was no wrong season for it. But alas, the weather told a different story. As autumn drew to a close, the gods of seasons seemed to become confused; flora which normally bloomed at the zenith of spring began to sprout as the autumn leaves cascaded to the floor, with the bright colors clashing and competing for the most glorious hue; the rains overwhelmed the streams and rivers, making them swell and overflow; when the calendar said winter was due, sweet moral blossoms of red roses began to bloom, with frost occasionally overcoming them, freezing them in their gorgeous, immortal state. It seemed as though the seasons could not handle the fervent passion between the queen of the flower fairies and the king of the water nymphs. Although the match was destined to be a good one, winter was not the right season for the consummation of marriage between two strong forces.

One thing was for certain, though, and that was that the two newlyweds did love each other. They were both willing to give up their own fairy kingdoms for the other. Although that was a bold statement, it proved that their love was quite different from their predecessors; this relationship was due to solely love, and not to the assets they might gain by merging the two fairy kingdoms, as previous aristocratic marriages had been.

The winter was harsh and tempestuous. The queen's closest advisors had suggested that the king remain in the farthest lands of his own kingdom, which was at least four or five days' journey away. The couple reluctantly agreed and he left. Although it helped the swelling of the streams and rivers in the kingdom, the winter was still particularly cold and harsh, likely due to the queen's sullen state.

As the sweet butterflies and the robin redbreast came to sing his vernal song, the king quickly returned to see his fairy wife. The spring that year was jovial and warm. Flowers were even more beautiful and plentiful than they had been in the years prior.

Although carnal desires and pleasures had not been new to the queen, something felt different when it was with her one true love; it felt like destiny had finally happened and was no longer teasing her. Before, it felt as though someone was picking her petals off, one by one, just to see how much they could torture her. She felt like she had been left alone for so long that she was about to rot and then she'd be left to the worms and the birds. Her branches of fertility were heavy; she was just waiting for someone to come along and take advantage of it, pluck her like fruit from a tree. How lucky she had been for him to come along and pick her before the birds and fairies had to sing their mourning song for their beloved queen.

A few weeks into the summer, the older fairies and those close to the queen had noticed that the queen—and her stomach, in particular—had begun to get fuller and rounder. Her cheeks were a happy pink as she announced to the fairies that she was going to have a fairy baby, a little young heir or heiress to take the throne one day. The fairies all doted on their beloved queen, meaning that she barely got a moment alone. Her best fairy friend—the lady who took care of all the young rosebuds—came up with the plan that the queen steal away to where the honeysuckles bloomed at twilight. She was eternally grateful to her friend, as she finally got time alone with her womb—rich with her young heir—and her beloved.

It was one day, by these honeysuckles, belladonnas, and cherry trees, that she began to have an odd sensation. The heir was coming!

It was there in their sacred spot that the heir was born. The queen's friend quickly called more fairies to attend to the couple and eventually, their young fairy son. The fairies quickly took away the fay to tend to him, while some older fairy girls lingered around the queen to make sure she was alright. She had quickly shooed them away, insisting that she was fine. A little while later, the nursing fairies brought the heir back as the full, pale moon rose and illuminated the meadows. The child was sweet, with watery blue eyes and a rosy complexion. He had many younger brothers and sisters and land was prosperous and rich.

It was la dolce vita; life didn't get any sweeter than that.

Guest:Okay. You know I have other stories I'll (probably) get to writing more, right? If not, I do. And thank you. I'm really glad you like them. And also, I really hope you like the music!

Sarah:Thanks. Now Ebola is in New York so it'll kill me first.

The next one is going to be Soulstice by Rachael Sage. Also I'm sick so please be nice to me :) -Kayson