"Are you hungry?" Riliane asked, after introductions were done. Allen Avadonia, meet a whole lot of people you'll never see again in your lifetime.
Allen blinked. Very. But the stories his father had told him said you should never accept faerie food. It did things to the mind and made you susceptible to being carried off into the faerie realm. Wait…he was already in the faerie realm.
He nodded. Riliane led Allen over to a long table laid out with many kinds of food, most Allen couldn't even identify. "Help yourself," Riliane said, thrusting a plate into his hands. He didn't know what to do with it. He usually dined on the bottom part of a loaf of bread. But he watched the others around him, and did his best to imitate them.
Allen was used to eating pottage, bread, gruel, pasta. Grains. And here he saw meats, cheeses, even sweets, so many things... To have so many choices presented to him was staggering. Impossible, unreal. An opportunity.
He was used to being hungry, or at least, to not feel full. And the fact that he could eat as much as he desired was what did him in. He filled his plate with anything that seemed appetizing enough, relishing in it, even when he noted a fuzziness around the edge of his perception. Things blurred and bled into each other as soon as he focused on them, but the expected sickness didn't come. In fact, he felt happier than he could ever remember being.
In one moment, manners forgotten, he was licking his fingers clean, and the next he was being spun round and round on the dance floor while wild music played. He didn't recognize his dancing partner, but he laughed still. This whole situation was like a dream, one he didn't want to wake up from.
"Enjoying yourself?"
"Very…much so," Allen said, so happy he could hardly get the words out.
"You're Riliane's new mortal, I assume?"
Allen squinted, trying to make out his partner's face. Green, green, green. The voice sounded like a woman's. "And you're…" His muddled mind tried to conjure up a name from the ones Riliane had pointed out to him before he went to eat. "Michaela?"
Yes, he remembered her, a noble with a white-haired girl at her side, who looked at him oddly.
"Very good," the green-haired girl said. "Michaela Arklov, of the Seelie Court. A pleasure to meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine."
She held her hand up, and for some reason Allen imitated her. He put his hand up to meet hers, palm to palm, forearm to forearm. They twirled as everyone else in the line did the same, uniformly. He wondered how did he know the dance's steps.
"I can't tell if you are bold or reckless for being here," she mused. "Perhaps a bit of both."
"I'm not afraid," he laughed because he wasn't. He had no care in the world, and this was a dream come true, and he would be home tomorrow anyway.
"Reckless," Michaela sighed. "I suppose you won't listen to me, but don't let yourself become attached to the Princess."
"She'll take me home tomorrow," Allen explained with a smile. "I won't have time."
"So she told you that?" Michaela smiled thinly. "Even so, keep my words in mind. The faerie realm is no place for a boy like you."
They traded partners, and he couldn't help but frown. Why had she said that? He was leaving tomorrow, and even if he wasn't, he hadn't chosen to appear there! He wanted to keep ruminating on what she had said, but the mood was too light and things happened too quickly. The night went on. He danced with many partners, his previous worry forgotten completely. A man with red hair. A woman with a dress made of starlight. A man with an attire the color of time.
Colors spun together. Every sound became a background, a drone. Hands wrapped around his waist, and he leaned back into something soft. Oh, he was on a bed. His bed? When had he…? Oh, there was- there was someone on the bed. With him. There was only a faint sense of alarm.
Then the world went completely fuzzy and he didn't remember anything.
He was warm. He felt lightheaded and floaty, and not in a good way. His eyes wrestled with his brain for the right to remain closed and sleep some more. Who was he, what year it was, where had he come from, were questions he had no answer to. As he opened his eyes, the night's events tied themselves together to make a barely coherent picture. He was in the faerie realm, in a bed, on a room, and had utterly embarrassed himself in front of all.
His limbs ached and his body was covered in sweat. He had no clothes under the sheets, they were on one corner of the room in a messy pile. Usually, that happened when the summer heat was too great to ignore, but it was wintertime there... Maybe he had gotten an overabundance of blankets to ward off the cold. Then again, this was an ice castle, too many blankets just didn't register as a possibility.
He detangled himself from the blankets- on second thought, the shock of the cold was too big. He put a red, fuzzy blanket around himself before going to retrieve his clothing and putting it on, with half a mind of just staying wrapped up in it. It had been nice and wonderful and many different adjectives, but he was ready to go home. His family must be worried sick.
He found himself having to put a hand on the wall so he wouldn't slip on the ice floor, needing to ask for directions before he came close to find the Unseelie Princess. Allen found her eating, a few apple cores on her plate.
At the sound of his footsteps, she looked up to him and smiled, motioning for him to seat in the chair in front of her. "Did you have fun last night?"
"I...I think so." He muttered as he sat. He rather wished he could remember more than quick flashes. He remembered some of the party, and it was enough to declare it had been the best night of his life. But all the same, it felt like something had been taken from him.
He was opening his mouth to voice his request when he noticed Riliane's attention wasn't on him, rather, it was on one of the windows. The setting sun could be seen, bathing everything in an orange glow.
The girl sighed. "The sun is always alone, isn't it? Just like... me..."
That stopped in in his tracks. He hadn't begun to consider her life. Why was she reigning? She looked his age. Where were her parents? He wasn't well-liked in the village, but at least he had his father, his sister. This girl, from what little he knew of her, had no one. A very, very lonely girl.
That made him feel bad for what he was about to do.
"Yes, but having two suns would make everyone die from the heat." Allen opined. That drew a surprised giggle from her.
"Excuse me, my Lady..." he muttered, matching her gaze without fear. "I think I've overstayed my time here. I would like to go home."
Her eyes fell on him, and she smiled slightly. "Oh, Allen, silly boy. It's so late, now. Why would you want to go home? You should sleep for a while first, and then I'll take you home. All right?"
Germaine had been looking for him when he appeared there. Knowing her, she was still searching. Guilt pooled in his gut. "I'd like to go home," he repeated, more firmly. "If you'll let me."
"But we could have so much more fun," she pouted. "Why would I want you to leave?"
That single sentence made his blood freeze in his veins. "What?"
"You heard me," she repeated. "Maybe I don't want to be alone. Maybe I don't want you to leave. Maybe I want you to stay."
"But I-I can't stay. My family needs me."
"Do they? Do they really? You were all on your own when I found you. Do they care about you that much? Will they miss you if you're gone?"
He wanted to say 'yes'.
He had always been a weird child. He got sick with rashes. He covered his ears when passing the church, as the bells were too loud. He preferred the company of animals. He would fidget too much, sometimes.
Whispers began. Rumors.
Witch. Demon-spawn. Changeling.
His father and sister had scoffed; said the were superstitious fools jumping at shadows of nonexistent monsters.
But in private, they had exchanged worried looks and wondered. And Allen had seen. Sometimes, he had seen.
His thoughts were interrupted as Riliane's eyes flashed. "It's like I said, Allen. I want you to stay. Are you telling me 'no'?"
I know you're lonely, but you don't do that to people. It's not right to hold people captive, even if it's on a castle and you treat them like royalty.
His words lodged in his throat, and try as he might, he couldn't get them out.
To tell a Fae Princess 'no'. Was he truly that desperate? She did give him clothes, and a room, and had allowed him to go to the ball, a mere mortal. There was still that feeling...
She patted him on the shoulder and smiled. Her skin was as cold as ice. "That's what I thought."
He searched for a way out for hours, and hours, and he had almost given up.
"Help me," he begged, pride long since gone. His throat hurt with every word, hands and feet hurting with cold. "Leave. Help me leave, please."
He knew he must be quite a pathetic sight, new garments drenched in water-snow, shivering from head to toe. He had looked for the place he had appeared in for what felt like hours. But even if he found it, there was no guarantee he could get back home. There weren't any will'o-the-wisps to follow. It wasn't that simple.
He had gone back to the castle dragging his feet, eyes on the ground the whole time. There was still one hope he had. And so, there he was, practically begging on his knees to the tailor.
"You poor, silly boy," Kayo said, with no small amount of pity in her gaze. "Are you really asking me to go against the Princess's desires? That would be suicide, my dear. As would it be for you to continue trying to go against them. Take my advice, and stop."
The words didn't want to register in his brain. He didn't want to confront the fact that- "So I-I'm stuck here? Forever?"
"For as long as she wants you here."
"What does that mean?!"
"It means whatever she wants it to mean." Kayo sighed and cut a length of green ribbon, which fell to the ground with a sense of dreadful finality. "It's time you learned that. Princess Riliane's desires shape this world. What she wants is reality. No matter what."
His heart sank down to his stomach. He didn't want to stay there, no matter how fancy his bedroom was or how good the food. He had a sudden impulse of marching up to the princess and... do something. Attack her until she said yes. He knew, however, that it was just his helplessness talking.
He went to the- his room instead, sat on the- on his new bed, and the whole situation finally got through to him. He was being held prisoner, in a castle, treated like a prince, and he would never go home.
He put his head in his hands, and wept.