MAYBE THERE ISN'T SUCH A THING AS F A T E. MAYBE IT'S JUST THE O P P O R T U N I T I E S WE'RE GIVEN, AND WHAT WE DO WITH THEM. I'M BEGINNING TO THINK THAT MAYBE GREAT, E P I C ROMANCES DON'T JUST HAPPEN. WE HAVE TO MAKE THEM O U R S E L V E S.”
ophelia dodson. fae of the spring court. s i x t y.
She shrugged, “they know how to keep things secret.” She smirked. Her brows crinkling as the other continued about the war and huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure it is, love. You should be more attentive to the goings on in Candoris” She stopped what she was doing, her ears pricking up at the sound of the Courts and Melanie. “She would want you to think that wouldn’t she.” She said dropping her trap back in the pool a little more angrily, “I’m sure Melanie doesn’t know you’re out here alone either. It’s not the people of the Woode you should worry about. It’s the creatures in it. Melanie or the Courts can’t keep you safe out here.” She sneered even though she knew what had happened to her wasn’t the girl’s fault. “If I were you I would be heading back soon.” She turned gathering up what she had retrieved from her traps, “the creatures here don’t play nice with naive fae.”
“Maybe, but such things have never passed through the borders of the Courts before. Are we not allied with the right people? History has shown the fae to be a truly neutral species, keeping out of the happenings of mortals.” It was like a line from an essay Ophelia once wrote long ago in for her classes. Learning the history of the fae was an interesting subject as most of the fae that was teaching it had lived through it. There was not really history as much as there was tradition, and tradition dictated that the more noble fae dealt with politics and war. A common fae like Ophelia just had to have the sense not to get in the middle of it all. “If I happen to run into one of those mean creatures, as you say there are plenty of, I will remember your words. Or are you saying that you are one of those creatures that I have to be wary of?” Ophelia paused. “I am not strong, no, but I am not completely naive. There has not been a mistake I have not learned from, but I do not want to stay sheltered forever.”
Perhaps if he was a lesser faerie–low-born, of common blood and birth–he might have needed to worry about speaking so freely of human art and culture. It wasn’t that the humans were off-limits, exactly, as much as they were frowned upon by the faerie courts. The same could be said for the vampires, from what Laurent had gathered of the species in his time spent in Candoris; the immortal tended to frown upon those with short, fleeting lives, believing themselves to be far above and beyond the finicky lives of mortals. And while Laurent believed that humans were prone to repeating the same mistakes again and again throughout history, he had to admit…there was something mesmerizing about them. Haunting, even, in their violent lives and passionate projects.
“I’ve spent time among several creatures…but yes, humans among them,” Laurent answered at last, glancing at the painting fondly one last time before he turned towards the nervous, young sprite of a faerie before him. Laurent didn’t know much about Lady Derrieux’s behavior when it came to how she treated servants; would she cast the poor girl out onto the streets if she found her poking around in places she didn’t belong? Or was she more benevolent as a mistress than she was a courtier? He raised his brows as the young woman–Ophelia, she said her name was–confessed that she would like to try her hand at human art one day. It was interesting to hear of her speak of it with such reverence, as though human craft were truly the end all be all to passion and civilization. He glanced down at the papers in her hands, curiosity tugging at him as she attempted to smooth the papers out with her small, dainty fingers.
“You appear to have already started, Ophelia–may I?”
“I have… not,” Ophelia replied. She knew he wasn’t looking for a reply, especially one as obvious as that. It wasn’t a shameful answer, in the general sense. Fae were known, especially those of The Spring Court, to look down at the mortals. Lesser beings, as they were, to spend their lives searching for meaning and to deal with frivolous things, but did the fae not deal with emotions? Did they not deal with relationships with one another? To live a life as well? The humans just had figure out a way to express it all while the fae just watched the days pass with their noses in the air and wings to the rest. It was not a life that Ophelia wanted.
She tried to smooth out one more corner before handing off the random assortment of sheets to the man. She kept her eyes cast down to the ground. There were never a pair of eyes on her work other than her own and the lifeless marble ones of the statue that was behind the two of them. It was a nerve-wracking moment, her heart and mind battling as she was not sure if she was waiting for him to say they were horrible or if she was better than she thought and waiting for praise. How did humans do it? Share their work amongst the masses without feeling like they were going to burst into a million little raindrops and turn into a puddle? “T-they are a bit messy. I’m sorry,” she tried, hoping that the excuse would placate any negativity that was about to be aimed her way.
Nathaniel could remember a time when he wasn’t this way. Where the fire he could control didn’t seep into every other aspect of his personality. How he had been a timid boy for as long as he could remember. The boy that had denied the very thing that forged his being from the hottest of flames. Once he allowed himself to be consumed by the fire instead of running from it, it had melted away the shell of a gutless boy and Nate had emerged more confident and more self-assured than he had ever been. But that boy still lived within him, the deepest parts of his mind reminding him that he should not be so proud. Not like this. That boy was the only thing that had ever filled him with self-doubt and caused him to over think, and no matter how many times he tried burning it all to the ground, he found that in the ashes that boy would rise again. The manifestation of his biggest fears in the form of the person he ran away from. That painful reminder that no matter how much he had truly changed, in his core he was still that same boy.
As he watched the girl sink down into the water, he was reminded that there was a part of him that must have felt like how he was making her feel. It wasn’t unlike Nate to project his insecurities onto other people, but there was something about Ophelia that had just made it so easy. It was the part of him that intrigued him the most. Not that he had any intention of hurting her. But he was nothing but a boy made of fire and ash, so it was only natural for him to set flames to the things surrounding him so they could resemble the only things he knew. Even if it meant there was nothing but dust when all was said and done. And while he desperately wanted to see Ophelia burn in the blaze he would set to her, there was the smallest part of him that was grateful that she at least had an affinity for water. If only for the fact that she had the chance to save herself before he left nothing but ruin in his wake.
After a long moment, he thought about pulling her up from the water himself before he saw her reemerge. Without thinking about what he was about to say, he smiled in her defense. “Too much water hast thou, poor Ophelia,” Nate responded before brushing her cheek with his finger tips, wading in the water, “you must have driven yourself mad.” There it was, the fire he had set to her was starting to kindle. Though it had started that day in the garden, he was pleased that it hadn’t diminished. That he brought out this part of her that he was not sure otherwise would appear. “I will call you Lady if I please. That’s far better than the other ten names you’ve thought of for me,” he teased her now, bringing himself closer to her. There was something magnetic about her that drew him to her. And with each new comment of how she really felt, it burned curiosity across his mind even more.
“And what part of me frustrates you the most?” With the slightest raise of his brow, he smirked again before bringing his hands to pull her in closer to him keeping her eyes trained on him as he spoke. “Is it the things I say?” He cocked his head slightly before bringing his hand back to her face, carefully gripping her chin so he could move it with ease. “Or is it,” he trailed off bringing his lips to her jawline, pressing a careful peck against her cool skin, “the things I do?” His voice was in a low whisper now, fangs protruding out as he dragged them across her skin playfully biting down on her shoulder before looking back up to her. “Amuse me, Lady, if only for a moment,” he pressed another soft kiss along the nape of her neck knowing that there were other forces at hand playing into the things he was doing.
“Water would never hurt me. You, however, have the biggest chance of ruining me, of everything I’ve built up until this point. To burn and set me aflame without the fire ever truly touching me.” Ophelia kept her gaze locked with his, not faltering, not backing down. She was not as strong and sturdy as the earth under her feet. Ophelia was a water fae, through and through, no change to her physicality could change that. Even if her affinity was lost to her, her connection to it severed for the rest of her life, Ophelia would never lose the feeling. To be able to be fluid and every changing, yet strong and powerful to change the formation of the earth and as essential as the air that filled one’s lungs. She could withstand whatever he threw, the flickers of his flames, to be heated by him, but to give into him, to let him get to her could turn her into steam, into nothing. But wasn’t where they were a testament to a version where they could collide and create something powerful and good?
Her breathe still stopped short as he lessened the distance between them, between their two bodies and Ophelia was aware of the extreme nakedness between the two. It was not an issue before, nor was baring skin an issue for Ophelia in general, but Nathaniel was built like the statue she admired, chiseled to near perfection, and now his skin felt as cold as marble. “I am not a Lady,” she rephrased. It was a weak response to his teasing, but Ophelia wanted to repeat it even if she knew he wasn’t going to listen.
She was losing her strength, now that no space was between them as she was pulled in and her footing lost and arms pinned to her sides. Nathaniel was the only thing holding her upright and she could feel herself tensing and relaxing into him at the same time. Ophelia had never been in this position, to be so close to another man, feeling his bare chest against her own. Tremors went down her spine and it was like her body was waking up for the first time the moment his lips grazed her skin and it felt like she was being set on fire. Ophelia couldn’t find the words, lost in his touch, and the scary thing was that she wasn’t scared at all. She wanted to lose herself into him, to feel his lips against her own, not just on her skin. Her eyes glanced down quickly at them before returning his gaze. “How?”
Ester snorted a laugh, “Yes, I suppose we do.” She stood and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “Um yes. Well, really, I’m looking for the study. Melanie told me to meet her there. She’s off doing something important. Do you know where it is? Or where are now?”
“The study is actually down this very hall, just a few doors down. Large doors, you cannot really miss them. You were not too far off,” Ophelia replied with a small smile. This girl was nice, not just from the genuine laugh that was coming from her, but there was something that Ophelia could just tell that she was a soft soul. Especially if she was a friend of Lady Melanie’s, Ophelia already liked her. “I am not certain if she is in there, but if you go down a little further, there is a glass door that leads into the garden where you can pass the time. Lady Melanie has a way of making herself known, or I can come fetch you when I do see her entering the study.”
the scent was picked up after the voice — a fault only of his own and the sweet tree sap on his cheeks. but when it hits him , oh , when it hits him , he finds himself enveloped in a gentle comfort that few bring him . ophelia . his body softens , tense muscle nothing but a mirror of the lazed laps of water against the side of his row boat . a mirror , indeed . for when he spoke it was with the same gentle lilt , the same soft eyes as he turns to glance into the brush .
she speaks prettily , of friendships and company . it’s enough to have his guard gone . “ come. ” jakub does not know how to convey the right brand of welcoming , a trait lost to the years of broken bones and too quick reactions . but he tries , with a tap of his hand to the spot beside him and the unfurling of linen on his lap , “ i always have time for you . ”
her eyes glanced down, a slow blink and a soft smile playing on her lips, ophelia stepped into the sunlight to approach her friend. she wanted, no needed, his softness. being at home lately had not been the same lately nor has her presence around the estate been anything but ordinary and ophelia wanted someone that treated her like nothing had changed. it wasn’t even a big change or anything, but she craved a sense of normalcy, of safety.
ophelia took the seat that was offered, smoothing out her skirt and picking the little pieces of dirt that managed to stick to the fabric. it was a simple silence that engulfed them, as they were never the two to have long conversations. just finding comfort in each other, but ophelia had been spending too much time alone with her thoughts to stand another moment of silence. “what are you working on?” she asked, curiously taking one of the wood shavings in her hand and letting it roll around her palm. “is it a gift for someone or just an indulgence?”
“I mean, uh, should I mention that it’s ‘h’ before ‘e’? Also, sure. I really don’t know what to think of him, but he is nice to look at so I wouldn’t hate it. He’s just mean and rude.”
“That’s… in the sake of being honest, I thought I did but I was foolish right? It was a dumb crush because I was in love with this idea of you that I created for myself without knowing you.
But now I know you and maybe I’m stupid and I am a fool but I’m still stupidly drawn to you like a moth to a flame. I don’t know if I love you yet. I don’t know what I feel right now. Safe to say that I probably won’t tell you though because you’re just so uuuuuggghhhh.”
“You’re very kind, but you’re so full of life. I can also see the love that you want to give and share with the world. I mean, I understand you are a vampire, but if there are bad faeries, there can be good vampires too, right? I like having a friend that can be with me forever, or at least the possibility of it. I mean, I can see our friendship lasting for a while. You have a soul of someone that I feel like I can trust and love.”
Svala shook her head, “Rarely is right, but that’s more so because, it’s a breeding spot for most fish” She smirked looking up at the girl, “minnows are good bait and they typically don’t miss a few. The deep water hides them well.” Svala shrugged, “there wasn’t talk of war those other times either was there? You should be more careful. People that dwell in the wood aren’t all just here to survive.”
“Is it? I’ve never noticed. I guess they keep to their spot when I come here for a swim, but it’s peaceful here. I can see why.” Ophelia lifted her hand, letting it break through the surface of the water. Talking to the woman had left her unfocused and she could see the skin on her fingertips prune as they were left unattended, and her time in the water was really showing. Ophelia would constantly practice her control to pretend that time had stopped while she was here, but not today it seemed. “War? No. Never here. Maybe back in the Courts from when I would overhear Lady Melanie talking to her guests, but I am not around much war talk. And I’m sure, but if I haven’t bothered them, they have not bothered me. People here in the Woode also just want to keep away from it all”
“okay fine! i’m laughing, you caught me.” he laughed yet again but then quickly covered his mouth. “shut up.” he liked this. he liked how they spoke to each other and joked with each other already. zach was steadily getting much more comfortable as well. it wasn’t like zach really went on to make new friends—he was old and tired. any mortal friends he made ended up dead anyway, so that was always bust—but ophelia was immortal like him and this could be something great. “oh what? how’re you not faster in the air? what’s the point of wings if you can’t go faster than on land? shame. i’m very faster, yeah. very fast, very strong… heightened senses, apparently. can’t imagine not hearing or seeing or feeling anything not as much. erm…” he shakes his head slowly. “not really. just irritating if i’m out in the sun too much.”
zach laughed again when she took his hands. “yours are definitely warm. nope, you’re not letting go now. we’re hand holding. but you know what they say about cold hands? warm heart. hopefully i can give that saying some justice.” he scrunched his nose and nodded in agreement. “alright, fine, you got me. i guess i’ll just be a good citizen all day—but only to you. everyone else sucks.”
“you’re the one laughing at me! maybe you are a mean vampire after all.” ophelia hoped that it came out teasing. it wasn’t as if she had too many friends that she joked around with. many other handmaidens to complain about a certain guest that lady melanie had received, but nothing where she felt this relaxed, so effortless. sure, she was still trying to say the right things but ophelia never had a conversation that was so full of nothing and everything. “i don’t really fly fast and i haven’t really run around freely since i was a child. i really only am saying no because i don’t know. i don’t know how fast i am. you can’t really gauge a fae’s powers based on their wings, but you can on their status and i am just a handmaiden. my blood is only partially noble because of my mother and that does not put me up to par with even your speed.” ophelia let out a breath, not realizing how fast she was speaking, eyes a little wide. she was so quick to offer a bad excuse but none of it was wrong. it just felt like she was excusing herself for not being enough. “i don’t think i would know what it would be like if i wasn’t so connected to nature so i understand on that part.”
“if i were to see you again, i guess it would be better to seek you out at night?” ophelia let their hands fall but she did not let go. they had a place they needed to get to, but clearly, they were in no rush. the almost-aimless walking was welcomed as that was how she ran into zach in the first place “does that mean warm hands have a cold heart?”
‘strange drinks are so much fun, but fine, one. i’ll make sure it doesn’t taste horrible!’ peter smiled at her, a bounce in his step as they made their way into the city. ‘just seeing! alright, alright. but there’s some very kind ones, you know? but okay. it’s the fae i’m wary of. oh not you, others.’ he bit his tongue before he spoke too much, but clearly he’d already spoken too much as it was. ‘before you ask, i need like four more drinks to talk about that.’
“the fae, really? are we not all wonderful and amazing?” ophelia asked, trying to goad him. she was sure there were plenty of fae that fell into the realm of horribleness, ones that abused their power or were just horrible people in general, but to hear that peter were wary of them all made her a bit sad. and slightly offended even if it was not directed at her. “well find me a sweet drink and i’ll lend you my ears. you’ve knocked over a rock and opened a path that I need to follow.”
There was not much to do as an heir to an estate. Most days he found himself simply wandering around the wood surrounding it wondering what he could have been doing with his life if he wasn’t the oldest brother. It had dawned on his that he never really had any of the freedoms that his siblings had. That if Santi was born first, he could have been doing something with his life. Anything but making sure he was alive so that the Navarette lineage continued and being a surrogate parent for all of his siblings. He loved them dearly, he had. If only they knew the sorts of continual sacrifices he had made for them throughout their lives.
The wind blew, rustling leaves in the trees and a muffling a small yelp in the distance. Shortly after he had picked up the scent of fresh blood and could feel his heart tug toward the sound. In an inhuman speed, he followed the scent and found himself on an injured pup, watching its chest barely rise and fall as it whimpered. Seb scooped up the young pup in his arms and looked around the wood to gauge where he was so he could figure out where to go. Wasting no time, he started to run to the capital, barley reaching the outskirts before calling out to someone. “Hey, please. You have to help me,” he called out for the first person he saw, gesturing to the small pup in his arms. “I found him like this maybe seconds after it happened. There’s still time, but we have to be fast.”
Somehow, Ophelia had turned from running away into the Wilde Wood once a week to appearing in town only to grab one of the baker’s fun new concoctions to try. Ever since that first cake, Ophelia had been hooked, her mouth and stomach demanding she give it a treat at least once a week because that sugary pleasure was too hard to deny. This time, though, she purchased her little delicacy and left with a simple goodbye; the draw of taking a true moment to herself with some paper and some kohl. She just wanted to sit by the lakeside and enjoy something simple.
The wind shifted, though. Oddly blowing in a different direction and it took Ophelia a minute to realize it was a blur of a man running past her. She was barely in his way and she was too stunned to even yell after him for the inconsideration. But then he stopped and she saw the bundle of fur in his hands and the unmistakable scent of blood. The girl rushed over, her treats dropping to the ground and forgotten as she touched his shoulder to turn him around, hoping to peer into his arms to access the injury. “We need to find where the injury is, right?” Ophelia said immediately. She was no medic nor did her status ever grant her the ability to use her water to heal, but she had to try something. “If we clean up some of this blood, there is a chance it isn’t as bad as it seems. The blood could have just matted down a lot of the fur.”
Melanie made herself comfortable, lounging on her sofa as she waited for Ophelia to show up. She was giddy at the idea running around in her mind. How had she not done this sooner? All those months of mediocrity when she could have promoted the one who was always at her beck and call anyways. If Melanie received any dissent or negative feedback for what she was about to offer, she could deal with that as it occured, if it occured. She would rather fight to have the help she deserves, than bemoan the status quo for having subpar employees.
As soon as Ophelia showed up, Melanie sat up a little straighter, her smile brightening up. The poor girl seemed a tad bit spooked. Well there was no need for that. “Sit, sit. Relax ma cherie. I wish to discuss an idea I had, and I seek your input.” Melanie leaned back on her sofa as she began to share her turmoil. The apathy and lack of work ethic within the current ladies in waiting and how the incompetence was slowly driving her mad. “You see Ophelia, I need…someone I can trust to do the job right the first time, someone who will anticipate my needs and therefore know how to meet them. In the face of so much…insufficiency, your work on my estate speaks for itself and let me tell you, you shine. How have you been feeling about your stay so far? Does it please you to work for me? Please, be honest.”
There were so many thoughts in her head. Too many. Every possible situation was going through her mind, every what if to prepare Ophelia for the inevitable worst-case scenario so she could properly get her emotions in order and not act out when it came to pass. It was always easier that way, to prepare herself. Ophelia was not that weak to let all the bad get to her and break her down. No, she needed to brace herself and prepare herself so she never appeared weak or not in control. That was not an option. Not when she had more important things to worry about.
All of that dissolved when she entered the room and for a second, Ophelia truly felt as strong as she wanted to pretend to be. She kept her shoulders level and her arms relaxed, hoping to not be wearing her worries all over her. She wanted to relax on the seat like she was ending her day and just falling into the cushion, but no with Lady Melanie right there. But she tried, at least relaxing her shoulders a little. “I will give you the best I can offer, madam.”
“I-Thank you.” A small flush rose on her face, but Ophelia lowered her head to hide it, surprised at the compliment. She was so afraid at the start, believing that Lady Melanie was listing her shortcomings as a handmaiden. “I love it here. It is so nice and warm. It reminds me of my grandparents home, but much, much grander as to be expected of the ruler of The Spring Court. I enjoy the tasks I get to do to make sure everything is running smoothly. I don’t think I would be as happy in any other Court or household.”
