Forest of Mischief

The Crimson Feast

Freya ends up picking out a soft lilac gown, the simple neckline accentuated with off the shoulder sleeves. She loops half of her wavy brown locks into a hair ring made of golden vines, sticking the matching gold pin in place. She freshens up her face with makeup she finds in the adjoining bathroom's vanity.

Unsure if she's supposed to meet at the dining hall or if one of them will retrieve her, Freya decides to wait 10 minutes before leaving her room. Feeling anxious, she perches on the side of her bed to keep from pacing. The nerves increase as she hears a light tap on the door, the complete opposite of Rory's bold approach.

She undoes the latch, which was locked since Rory left, and opens the door. Merlyn stands idly, his hands in the pocket of his black slacks, his loose shirt tucked in. The purple in it is so dark that it matches his jet black hair, only revealing the color if the light hits it just right. She waits for him to say something, even a small greeting.

He gives a quick glance over, his expression the same as before. Undecipherable. “Shall we go?" He says, a slight arch in his dark eyebrow. She nods, shutting the door behind her, and they travel through the labyrinth of the castle. Even the hallways seem enchanted, most of them gaping with tall ceilings and windows that display gardens and sparkling lagoons in full view.

The setting sun rests low to the ground, giving an orange-gold tint to the landscape. Edges of the mountain interlace with the sage walls. Bright lanterns hang in between the lush flora that lines the corridors as they make their way upward through the castle.

They climb a winding staircase made of unfinished wooden branches in silence. As Freya passes over the last step, she hears laughter. The sound comes from an open entryway with pillars made of carved branches. The smell of food floats out of the dining hall, calling out to Freya's empty stomach.

Stepping forward, Freya feels Merlyn lightly place his hand on her shoulder. He extends his arm to her, inviting her to lace her elbow with his. She accepts, her breathing slightly faltering as her skin rubs against his soft tunic. “Nervous?" Merlyn asks while glancing at her, meeting her eyes.

She takes a deep breath and gives him an honest nod before returning her gaze to the packed dining hall. She plasters a polite smile on her face and his face relaxes into a mix of indifference and calmness. She hopes he can't hear how fast her heart is beating as they step into the lively room together.

Immediately, they are bombarded with curious eyes. But Rory was right, no one approaches them as they begin a long walk, arm in arm, down the center pathway. The head table, Freya assumes, in front of them.

The strange fairies give them their full attention as Freya and Merlyn pass before returning to their conversations. She recognizes Fae, the kind that Rory explained they are – including Freya. Their powers correlate with their eyes: elemental, alchemy, and healing. He hinted at a fourth color, but didn't give an introduction to the powers associated with it.

Sprites, the small lightning creatures she saw in the forest, flit around the room. Their entire bodies, wings included, are smaller than her hand. An unfamiliar type mingles with the others, their appearance similar to the Fae. But, they have more nimble features. Including being half the size of the Fae. The wide eyes accenting their face with soft blue irises.

Merlyn pulls her along as she studies the room. Her eyes roam over the outlandish fruits and vegetables that cover the extended wooden dinner tables. The horde of food is only outnumbered by oddly shaped decanters that line the table. Freya's nose scrunches as she recognizes the scarlet liquid that made her head spin.

Merlyn leads her to the two open seats in between Lilli and Rory at the center table that looks down upon the court. Freya wonders if the placement is intentional. She opts for the seat next to Lilli, and Merlyn settles in by her side.

Freya examines the other Fae at the table. On her side, it's the three of them. Next to Rory sits a slightly older man with auburn hair and straight nose. Light freckles cover his cheeks, resembling Rory's. On the other side of him sit three men. Two of them look the same age as the stranger, but the third is older with silver streaks in his hair.

Still glancing at the opposite end of the table, the man slides his eyes to lock on Freya's. A renewed edge of fear runs up her spine as she stares into his burning crimson eyes. His mouth curves into a frown, and Freya breaks eye contact. She quickly adjusts in her chair, but she swears she can still feel his lingering gaze burning holes in her. She makes a mental note to ask one of them who he is, and why he seems so angry. But, now's not the time.

Trying to distract herself from her nerves Freya turns to Lilli, whose attention is elsewhere. Or, more specifically, three tables away. Following her gaze, Freya spies a tall Fae with tousled blond hair and bright green eyes. His wide smile matches the warm, golden glow around him.

Freya nudges her, glances between the two, and raises her eyebrows at Lilli. To which Lilli hastily adjusts herself, and gives an innocent look of aloofness to Freya. Giving her a quizzical smile, Freya asks, “What's his name?"

Lilli's plump lips shift into a haughty pout, “I don't know who you're talking about."

“Hate to break it to you, but you're not as subtle as you think," Freya states. The same could be said for Rory.

A splinter of annoyance shines through Lilli's feigned innocence, “His name is Daniel, okay?" Her voice barely a whisper as her eyes flit to the angelic blond. “I might have a slight...thing for him, but I haven't talked to him yet, if you must know."

“For someone who claimed we were best friends once, you sure like to keep secrets," Freya says, egging her on. Secretly, she's grateful for a conversation she's familiar with, and for one where she's not the one being interrogated.

“We are best friends," Lilli quickly snaps.

Her face relaxes at Freya's surprised expression, “At least, I would like to be." Her eyes roam to Daniel, “I'm not the best at this kind of stuff."

“I don't believe that for a second," Freya says. With her doe-like eyes and loose curls, Lilli's the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. Plus, she seems to be able to handle Rory and Merlyn with ease.

“I guess I just haven't done it in a while, flirting and all that. I was married. And now, I'm not and I have no clue how to start the process all over again."

Her frustration rises with each word. Before Freya can control her curiosity, she softly asks, “What happened?"

“He died." The words hang in the air between them, and a wave of empathy courses through Freya. She searches for the right words, comforting has never been a skill of hers. But, Lilli continues, her voice lighter, “It happened a long time ago. It's just strange to have similar feelings for someone else."

Freya offers an understanding smile, “I'm sure he would want you to be happy."

“Oh, I know he would," she stirs her glass of wine, “It would just be another reminder that he's really gone."

“A new person won't change what the two of you had."

At this, Lilli smiles. The light returns to her sapphire eyes, “The same could be said for the two of you." Her eyes dance between Freya and Rory. “I don't think we asked, were you with anyone in the human world?"

Freya's cheeks steam. Yes, she's dated other people. But, marriage? Love? She's never felt intensely enough about anyone to go down that road. And she knows the current prospect Lilli's referring to isn't going to solve that.

At Freya's lack of a response, Lilli chirps, “Look who's keeping secrets now." Freya rolls her eyes at her, but still smiles. She can understand why her and Lilli were friends.

The intense chatter from the dining hall hushes into complete silence as the man next to Rory stands up. His face is hard and steadfast, a clear symbol of power and control, as he looks at the waiting crowd. All of their elvish faces and glowing eyes point toward the head table. Freya's insides twist at the exposed feeling. The towering man seems to relish in it, his lips curving into a domineering grin.

His deep, gravelly voice fills the hall as he holds up a golden chalice, “Tonight, we celebrate." Everyone in the dining hall lifts their glass, and Freya follows suit. “Midsummer is almost here. And my son has returned from the outer villages with his aides." His garnet eyes turn to the four of them, the fairies' eyes shifting with his. “And it seems Merlyn has brought along a new companion. Cheers." He takes a sip of his wine, his flaming eyes still on Freya as he tilts the chalice back. She stares back as she takes a long sip of hers.

This time, he breaks the gaze and she immediately spits the wine back in the glass. This isn't the time or place for her to lose her senses. She pushes the glass away from her, resting her hands on the wide timber table, grounding herself.

The hall erupts back into its previous rambcioutness as the man returns to his seat. Freya tilts her head to Lilli and whispers, “That's Rory's dad?" She now understands where Rory gets his pride from, but even he seems kinder than this man. And that's saying a lot.

Lilli's lips press on each other, forming a tight line as she nods, “That's Aeron. He can be...intense."

“That's one way to put it," Freya mutters. The pieces start to pull together, forming a realization that Freya wishes wasn't true. Rory's mention of a King, the respect given to Aeron, their places at the head table.

Merlyn shifts in his seat next to her, joining their conversation with passive indifference. “Aeron is the King of the Realm."

“Which makes Rory the Prince of the Realm?" Freya can hardly get the words out.

“Precisely," Merlyn responds. “We are all indebted to his father, so in return, we serve him and the Realm as demands."

“Why him?" Freya asks.

“That," Merlyn says as he reaches for the food in front of him, “is for another time." Freya swears his eyes flash with a controlled bitterness.

Lilli starts to pile food on her plate too, already indulging in the wine in front of her. Freya looks around the array of platters, attempting to choose what to eat. The unfamiliarity of the textures and colors of the dishes intimidates her. As she's about to ask Lilli what she should eat, a light tap lands on her shoulder.

Rory's mischievous voice taunts her, “Need help filling your plate?"

Freya twists in her chair and snaps, “I know how to put food on my plate." He smugly grins as he reaches around her, deliberately choosing the food he puts on her plate.

“Thank me later," he winks at her and saunters back to his place beside Merlyn. Freya waits until he's not looking to take a bite, cursing him even as she clears her plate. All of it being undeniably delicious.