Story 184 - Fairy Fail

Fairy Fail

Not all fairy tales end well.

For young Bertie McMullen, the tale was rapidly getting out of hand, and he wished he’d never heard of magic, the fairy realm, or the young woman that was sitting beside him.

She moved slightly, her lizard-like and crusty skin brushing against his own, and he flinched. His quick movement brought a smile to her face, though it had taken him some time to identify it as such. At first, he had thought it was a grimace of pain, one borne of suffering and hatred, and was convinced that though it might actually be an expression of joy, pain still played a large role in its function.

“Am I no longer beautiful to you, Bertie?” She mocked him. He recoiled from her fanged mouth even farther than he had from her skin, but became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he had very little distance to travel. The dragon that bore them both to the gods knew where was sleek and muscular but not particularly wide, and he could feel the cold air whipping at his back, and his grip on the saddle in front of him began to loosen. “Be careful, little rabbit,” Princess Theldas mocked him as he tightened his hands on the leather in front of him, “we wouldn’t want you to fall.”

Bertie ground his teeth together but didn’t respond. He was sure she personally wouldn’t mind if he fell to his death from whatever unholy height they’d flown to, but from he had learned from her, she had obligations to fulfill, some of which involved keeping him alive.

Her mother, the queen, had demanded that she be married within the year or risk losing her crown to her younger brother, and when Bertie had come across her at his local bar, she had been weeping into her beer about the unfairness of her life, though she had painted herself as the heiress of a cattle fortune that was being usurped by an unscrupulous uncle.

He had been lonely, sad, and she had been about the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Remarkably, she’d been interested in him, and after a single night of torrid awkwardness, he’d decided he was in love.

Three days later she’d had him so on the hook that he would have done anything she asked, and all she wanted was his company when she headed home to confront her family. Bertie wasn’t a courageous guy, but he was willing to do anything he could for her. He loved her.

The fact that she had taken him down a dirt road where he knew there was no town, village or farmstead to speak of should have been a tip-off, but he had hoped she might want to try something exciting outdoors, something illicit, and that had dulled his senses.

When they ended up standing over a swirling pit of red fire, one that had no earthly business beneath their feet, Bertie started to get worried. He’d heard there were some freaks in the area, and wondered if maybe he’d run afoul of one. Still, he was willing to listen to whatever she said – give her a chance to explain herself.

His Princess hadn’t said anything, just shoved him from behind when he wasn’t paying attention, and Bertie had let out a distinctly unmanly scream as he fell. The fire didn’t burn as he hit, and when he found his senses again, he was lying on a cold stone floor.

A look outside the small window in the room had shown him a cloudless sky populated by birds he’d never seen and dragons by the dozen. Reality had dropped out on him, and he wondered if maybe she’d slipped him a hallucinogen. That could be kind of hot.

She had followed a moment later, her skin taking on the green sheen he now knew was her true color. He’d moved in to touch her, even still, and she had knocked him across the room with one clawed hand, gashing his face. She’d quickly informed him of her true nature, and that he wasn’t going back anytime soon – he’d watched as the portal collapsed in on itself – since he’d agreed to come of his own free will.

“Worried, little rabbit?” Her voice brought him back to their wild flight, and he shook his head.

“Not a bit.” The words were forced, but at least they were there. Bravery came too late, though he was impressed it came at all. “What if I don’t want to marry you, Princess? I’m not interested in being part of your fairy tale.”

She smiled at him, all teeth, and then flicked a long tongue in his direction. “Here, what males want is of no concern to the Queen. I required your consent to bring you here, but now that you have arrived, you are mine to do with as I wish.” She leaned forward to brush his cheek with a long claw, and Bertie drew in a deep, slow breath. He would not flinch again.

“I have no interest in killing you, and even throwing yourself from the back of my pet would not end your life – merely place you in agony. You cannot kill yourself here, under my protection, so you had best accept your fate. I am your future now.”

Bertie had always hoped a woman would be so devoted, so desperate for his attention that she would cling to him like this, but he had imagined that she would be flesh and blood instead of scales and claw. Theldas still had a raw sex appeal about her, but Bertie wasn’t in the mood – and was fairly certain she’d bring some of the agony she was talking about with him, even if she was in the mood.

The dragon landed finally on a stone outcropping, and Bertie craned his neck up to see the fortress they had landed beside. Grey, towering rock rose above his head, taller than any building he had seen before. An army would need not only wings but destructive power on a massive scale to penetrate such defenses, and judging by the black scorching along the nearest wall, at least one army had tried.

“Welcome,” the Princess swept her arm dramatically, “to my mother’s castle, the impenetrable Fortress Caloah, and your new home.” She paused. “Husband.”

Bertie felt his stomach twist. Not the proposal he’d been looking for.

- D