A Gt ask blog! Mostly writing, some art. Check out the About page or read through Chronology to learn more about Kiran and Vellner. (Fair warning, this is more angst than fluff.)
Attacking @creatorofuniverses for revenge! Her OC Brisela has an adorable dress made of daisy petals, so I wanted to depict her dancing ballet to showcase it.
I really love her outfit tbh, and I love that she's a risk taker so of course I had to draw her exploring near some human buildings (Even if they might be abandoned...who knows)
I decided to go ahead and start an askblog for Stolen Hunt! I think it’ll be a lot of fun. ^^ I’ll be posting updates to the story over there starting today, and the askbox is open. Go check it out!
I’m finally caught up after deciding to join the challenge pretty late lol. Today’s prompt only made me think of everybody’s least-favorite prince. Unfortunately he is royalty- no getting around that one.
Thank you so much to everybody who stuck with this blog over the years, sent in asks, and gave lovely feedback! I appreciate all of you so much. ^^ This started out as such an odd little experiment and it feels surreal to come to the end of it. I hope you all enjoyed the ride as much as I did.
For anybody who might not know, you can find me other places on the internet: my main tumblr blog and my deviantart are the most active. Thanks again!
Vellner woke up slowly, to the sounds of birds chirping outside his window. He cracked open his eyes, the muted sunlight coming into the room turned gold by the yellow curtains. The room greeted him – his room, small and cozy and gradually filling up with things that were his – and he stretched sleepily, luxuriating in the feel of having his own bed.
Lyra’s guest bedroom had been Vellner’s bedroom for a few months now, and it had taken on a quality that was entirely new to the wingless fairy: it felt like home.
He had barely sat himself up when the door opened. Ebby stood there, and upon seeing him she grinned and all but bounced into the room, flumping herself onto the end of his bed. “Oh good, you’re awake!” she exclaimed, much too exuberantly for the morning hour. “Have you seen my hairbrush?” Her dark green hair, wild and wavy as it was, certainly looked like it needed one.
Vellner gave her a bemused look, still busy rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Why would I have seen your hairbrush?” he asked.
“I can’t find it anywhere else,” the young girl blithely replied. Her logic had its own sort of merit. “Can I use yours, then?”
“Sure,” said Vellner. He watched with a small smile as Ebby popped up and began rummaging through a drawer in his dresser for the comb he kept in there. He couldn’t help but think back to when he had first met her, a traumatized little waif in rags; that girl bore little resemblance to the one in front of him, rosy-cheeked and radiating joy. Ebby had recovered admirably from her trials.
He was so very proud of her.
Ebby returned with the comb held triumphantly in one hand, only to hold it out to him. Vellner looked from the comb to her expectant expression in confusion. “What are you giving it to me for?”
She smiled shyly at him, some of her bashful demeanor surfacing. “Will you braid my hair, please?” she asked politely.
“Me? You do know Lyra is way better at braiding than I am, right?” he informed her, though he took the comb as he said so.
Ebby clambered up onto the bed and settled herself right in front of his blanket-covered legs. “I like it when you do it,” came the simple reply, and Vellner couldn’t help but smile.
He combed through her unruly green hair, the only sounds the morning birds and the faint clatter of Lyra doing something in the living room. Ebby stayed still for him, and Vellner found himself very relaxed even as he separated out sections of her hair and did his best to braid them together evenly.
“I, um, I was thinking…” Ebby began at some point during the second braid. Vellner continued braiding her hair but listened carefully. “The leaves are starting to change colors. Since both of our birthdays are in the fall, I, I was thinking maybe we could celebrate together? Lyra says that here they hold parties for your birthday! We could have a party together.” She waited until Vellner had tied off her braid before turning around to look over her shoulder at him hopefully. “What do you think?”
Vellner still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of parties, or hanging out with people, or being talked to like a person; but he was trying, and he was done running away from kindness just because he was scared. “Absolutely,” he told Ebby with a smile. “I would love to celebrate our birthdays together.”
The beaming smile that broke across Ebby’s face was like a sunrise, bright and beautiful, and any lingering doubts Vellner might have had about his decision were washed away. The young girl turned and threw her arms around him, giving him a brief but fervent hug, before scrambling off the bed and running out the door. Vellner managed to get out of bed and reach the doorway in time to see her ambush Lyra in the living room. “Lyra! Vellner said we could have a birthday party!” Ebby gushed.
“He did?” Lyra enthused in return. She grinned down at the kid before turning that smile on Vellner. The sight of her smile, kind and warm, made Vellner feel more at home than anything else in the house. “Well now. We’ll just have to throw the best party ever, huh?” Ebby bounced with delight and Vellner smiled back, giving a small nod.
Things had changed. He still worried from time to time, of course; the thought of leaving the village and all its complexity behind cropped up every once in a while, as did the fear of some human coming and ruining the tentative home he had built here. These fears were growing less frequent, however, and he knew deep down that the village was safe. He was safe, here, with this family he had made, these sisters who cared for him and for each other despite not being related by blood. With them around, he didn’t have to worry about the rest so much.
Vellner was free, and this time he believed it would last.
“You…” Vellner began, before realizing he had no idea how to reply to that. He hadn’t expected Kiran to say, well, any of that, and certainly not with any degree of genuine feeling. Not to mention the human was right- he didn’t really deserve Vellner’s forgiveness, not with what had happened.
And maybe that meant he was right about the rest of it, too. Vellner’s life couldn’t get better, not with Kiran around. Maybe it was time Vellner actually tried to get better.
“Thanks for the apology,” Vellner eventually said, which was as close to acceptance as he was going to get. Kiran just nodded, as if he’d expected that. “So you’re just going to leave me in the forest then, huh?”
“Pretty much.” Kiran attempted a smile but it came across as more of a grimace. “If all goes right, you’ll never have to see another human again.” Kiran turned to Lyra and added, “But if he does, I mean if any of you do, you know where to find me. These woods are mine now, and I’ve made them off limits to anybody else, so they should be as safe for you lot as possible. If not, I can rain hell upon whoever comes to bother you.”
Lyra looked suitably confused and suspicious about that, but Vellner suddenly understood. “Your birthday present,” he realized. Kiran looked at him and nodded, a faint smile on his face. “You asked for these woods. For this?”
“For this,” Kiran agreed. “Not entirely selfless, I must admit, but… hopefully a step in the right direction.” His haughty demeanor fell away somewhat and he added, more hesitantly, “It’s not enough to make up for what I did to you, I know. Probably nothing is. But you once told me I was the latest in a line of the worst humans the world could find.” Vellner raised his eyebrows, recognizing his own jibe when he heard it, but Kiran just looked determined. “Well, I promise I’m going to be the last.”
Vellner hesitated a moment, the familiar preservation instinct surging and clamoring at him to not believe that, lest he get his hopes up too high. But this was new. A human never gave him up once they had him, not until now. Maybe… maybe this time, he could take a chance with hope. Maybe this time it would work. “I… I guess this is goodbye then, huh?” he said.
“Yeah.” Kiran looked uncomfortable, but nodded anyway. “Goodbye, Vellner.”
“Goodbye, Kiran.”
Vellner watched, heart heavy with emotions he couldn’t rightly name, as Kiran turned and walked out of the clearing. His footsteps crunched along the undergrowth until they couldn’t be heard anymore.
That was the last time the faeling saw the prince.
Lyra swooped down, alighting on the branch next to Vellner and taking a seat to be closer to him. She looked at him with a furrowed brow, the concern in her eyes clear as day now that she was so close. “Are you okay?” she asked, as the forest around them rustled with the brush of wings and the mutter of confused fairies.
Vellner looked over and met her gaze. He swallowed, hard, and something within him seemed to settle. “Yeah,” he replied. “I think I will be.”
She smiled at him, worry and hope and kindness mingling in her open face, and offered him her hands. “Good,” she said.
A few minutes passed before Kiran got what he wanted. There was a slight rustling amongst the surrounding trees, a sound incongruous to the light breeze. Vellner looked around and was shocked to find fairies peering out at them from the foliage of multiple trees, some holding weapons. It seemed like half the village had mobilized to come meet them.
There was a flash of pink and Lyra burst out from a nearby oak, hovering far out of reach of Kiran but staring directly at them. “What are you doing here, Kiran?” she demanded. Her face turned to Vellner, but she was too far away for him to see the look in her gaze. He averted his eyes anyways, finding himself unable to face her after what he had said the last time they saw each other. “You should know by now that you’re not welcome here.”
“I know,” Kiran replied, rather flippantly, before seeming to notice the rest of the fairies himself. “I’ll take the small army you gathered to meet me as flattery, I suppose.” He sighed, casting his gaze downward, and after a beat said, much more hesitantly, “Not… not that you’ll need it. I promise I’m not here to make trouble.”
Lyra scoffed. “As if we’d believe that!”
A small, wry smile quirked at the side of Kiran’s mouth. “I suppose you have no reason to,” he agreed. “But it’s the truth.” He moved forward and there was a sharp rustling as every fairy nearby darted away, a wave of shining wings repelled by the mere presence of the human. Kiran approached the nearest tree, making Lyra fly backwards abruptly to remain out of reach, but didn’t move to grab anybody. Instead he grabbed Vellner off of his shoulder, before putting the wingless fairy on one of the larger branches.
Vellner scrambled to get a grip on the bark beneath him as Kiran’s hand moved away, his eyes wide and his face pale. He felt incredibly unsteady this high up with not much to hold onto. “What’s the big idea?” he blurted.
Kiran ignored him, turning to face Lyra instead. “I came to give him back to you, since he seems determined not to leave on his own,” the prince informed her, causing every fairy in the clearing to stare at him in open shock. “Maybe you can keep him from getting into more trouble. Quarantine him in your secret fairy village or whatever.”
“I…” Lyra began, visibly shaken.
Vellner beat her to the punch. “Kiran, what the fuck are you on about?” he yelled, though his shaky voice betrayed his uncertainty. “I… you know how I…” He grit his teeth, swallowing the surge of emotions that almost came up with the admittance. “This has got to be some sick joke of yours, right? You’ve never given up anything in your life.”
Kiran looked back over at him, hazel eyes meeting silver. From where Vellner was perched on the branch, they were practically at eye level with each other. Taking a deep breath, Kiran said, “I can see why you’d think that. I know… I know now that what I did to you was awful. I’m not asking for your forgiveness. Frankly, I probably don’t deserve it.” Vellner just stared at the human, stunned, as the words continued to tumble out of Kiran’s mouth like a confession. “I’m just trying to be better. And, I finally realized that, so long as you’re with me, you are never going to get better. How could you?” Kiran sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair, staring up at the clear blue sky. “But you won’t leave on your own, so this is the last thing I’m going to make you do.” Kiran’s eyes sought out Vellner’s again, a resigned sort of finality in them. “For what little it’s worth… I’m sorry, Vellner. For everything.”
It was a nice day outside. The air was warm but not hot, the sunlight softening the chill of a light breeze. Vellner would have been soaking in the sensations, if he weren’t so focused on keeping his balance where he sat on Kiran’s shoulder, and his own confusion.
The fact that Kiran had left his room with Vellner on his shoulder wasn’t necessarily surprising. And Vellner supposed that even princes wanted to walk beyond the castle walls every once in a while. Even the fact that Kiran had firmly refused a guard, informing the castle patrolmen that he was only going for a walk, wasn’t beyond the prince’s normal stubbornness.
It was the fact that Kiran wouldn’t even tell Vellner where they were going that the fairy found irksome.
Still, Vellner had let it be, until he realized that the field they were crossing – and the forest they were steadily heading towards – was familiar. He’d seen this field from the air once, after a… rescue. Somewhere deep in those familiar trees lay the fairy village.
“Hey, hold up!” Vellner blurted. He looked up at Kiran’s face, though of course couldn’t catch the human’s eye from this angle. “I know where you’re headed. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m taking a walk,” Kiran casually replied, seemingly unbothered.
“Bullshit.” Vellner squinted at him, finding himself suddenly much more invested in this outing. “I don’t know what your plan is here, but you should just turn around and go home. Haven’t you bothered the other fairies enough already?”
There was a moment of silence, the only sound the brushing of the long grass up against Kiran’s boots. Eventually the reply came, an admittance spoken much more quietly than Vellner expected. “I likely have. This still has to be done.”
Vellner didn’t like the sound of that. “What has to be done?” he asked warily.
Kiran just shrugged slightly, bobbing Vellner up and down on his shoulder and making the fairy scramble for a tighter grip on his collar. “You’ll see.” After that he refused to talk about it any more. By the time they reached the tree line, Vellner’s attempts at asking questions had fallen off into a surly silence.
They eventually reached a clearing: the one where Kiran and Vellner had met after Kiran ran away, the one that Lyra had chased Kiran away from, the one where Kiran had changed his mind about setting Ebby free. The one where Vellner had lost his freedom again. The fairy shivered slightly, all these memories colliding, only to jump out of his skin as Kiran shouted, “Lyra!” at the top of his lungs.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Vellner demanded, his heart still pounding in his chest from the scare. Kiran ignored him, just calling Lyra’s name again, loud enough that he could probably be heard all the way in the fairy village.
Then again, that was probably the point.
Kiran yelled again, and when Vellner’s ears stopped ringing he demanded, his voice tight, “Seriously, what are you up to? If… if you try to hurt Lyra, I swear…” He didn’t exactly have an end to that sentence, knowing all too well how little he could influence Kiran’s decisions, but he couldn’t just let it slide without saying something.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Kiran countered. Vellner couldn’t quite see the prince’s face, but he frowned at what sounded like offense in the prince’s voice. “I just… I promise it’s nothing bad, I just need to talk to her.”
The party was, in many ways, exactly as Kiran had imagined it would be. It was the largest celebration that had ever been held for him, personally. The biggest ballroom in the castle had been decorated to the nines in royal blue and gold, and the revelry went on with seemingly no intent of stopping. Kiran shook hands and received congratulations, danced with beautiful young women to lively music, and ate delicacies from a never ending buffet table. He drank alcohol for what was supposed to be his first time (it never was, especially not with older brothers like his) and played up his coughing so that the older men could slap him on the back and tell him it was always like that for the first drink. A veritable mountain of presents in the corner steadily grew- he would open them after the celebrations.
It was everything he had daydreamed about for years and more- and yet, Kiran found himself using a polite, society-ready smile more than any real one throughout the night. There was something more important about his birthday than a party, no matter how extravagant, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to relax until it was done.
Eventually the prince found himself standing off to the side, a nearly empty glass of wine in one hand. He twirled it idly, hazel eyes scanning the crowded room, before drinking the last bit and setting the empty glass on a nearby table. Here went nothing.
The king was standing amidst a group of older men, smiling along at something one of them was saying, when Kiran came up to him. The men all turned, the one talking cutting himself off to greet the prince. “Ah, the man of the hour! Happiest of birthdays to you, Prince Kiran.”
The sentiment was echoed amongst the small group, and Kiran nodded politely in acceptance. “Thank you very much,” he replied. “My apologies for interrupting, but may I have a word with my father for a moment?”
“Of course,” the man said, echoed by a few others. With polite farewells they all took their leave, until only the king and his youngest son remained behind.
The king gave Kiran a thoughtful look. “Your manners have improved,” he noted. For once it didn’t sound like a disparagement.
Kiran smiled tightly. “Well, I am an adult now, Father. That happens when one grows up.”
His father smiled back, the expression more amused than anything else, but replied, “So it does. Is this newfound maturity why you decided to leave the faeling in your room?”
Not entirely true, but as good an excuse as any. Kiran nodded. “Certainly. I’ve grown too old to be bringing pets to parties. My attention should be on more important things.”
A knowing look entered the king’s eye. “Ah, yes. More important things. Such as your birthday present, by tradition?” Kiran nodded. “I’m glad to see you’re taking your responsibilities seriously, Kiran. Let’s step aside and discuss this.” The king led the way to a side door, a small audience chamber off of the main ballroom, and Kiran followed.
He had finally learned to be the son his father wanted; or, at least, how to present himself as such. Now, to use it to his advantage.
__________
It was late when Kiran returned to his room. His hair was slightly mussed, his formal attire a bit creased- the carousing had gone on long into the night. Vellner was asleep in bed, though he jolted awake as the door opened and lamplight spilled in. The faeling sat up, rubbing his eyes as Kiran entered, followed by a handful of attendants. They undressed him and dressed him for bed, leaving without a word. Kiran, however, didn’t immediately flop into bed, tempting as it was; instead, the prince sat at his desk, the lamplight illuminating his face.
“How was the party?” Vellner asked, his voice still a bit too sleepy to hold any kind of snarky undertone.
“It was fine,” Kiran replied. The prince was smiling slightly, his eyes tired but keen as he rummaged through some of the parchments on his desk. “You wouldn’t have liked it, but I had a good time.”
Vellner simply hummed something noncommittal at that. The faeling quickly decided more conversation was not necessary, and shrugged himself back down into the blankets. He rolled over once and fell asleep again almost immediately.
Kiran let him. The prince only glanced at the faeling once before pulling out the map he had been studying for the last few weeks. Smiling slightly, he took a pencil and marked his name.
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