Forgotten Ring, Fae Konig
Fae Konig x mortal reader
Warning: doesn’t follow the actual fae myth correctly (its based off a irish myth f I rember correctly) Feel free to leave a request-this has been SOOOO fun to write in between homework breaks lols
Fae Masterlist
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It wasn't meant to happen; it was a mistake. One that you are now not able to get out of. You had accidentally traded your golden ring to the crows. You had taken it off when butchering the leg of lamb, not wanting to scratch it. Mindlessly placing the wealthy object near the windowsill. To close….
You couldn't afford a new one, not yet, at least. You had barely been able to afford the first one. You had lived off of scraps during that time, almost withering away as you refused to enter the woods. But you had enough food saved to make it through back then. That wasn't the case this time. Your pantry was bare. Scraps of seeds and herbs hanging from barren shelves. You had planned to refill it today. To take advantage of the mid-spring day and harvest until your shelves overflow. Until you wouldn't need to venture out of necessity. But today was a necessity. From the look of the sky, a storm was coming. And while what little food you had could possibly help you last through it, you wouldn't be in a condition to venture in after. To have the strength or clarity to work around the fae. Something would happen.
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Your fingers gripped the lacework in your basket; it was only slightly larger than a kitchen towel. It had been a ferilles project. One thing you did when you had the time and money to afford such colorful threads was to experience mental exhaustion. Blooming pink roses trailed along with vines blossoming with yellow stars, the embroidery precise. It had needed to be. The thread was expensive in color and in limited supply. The dainty, needlepoint that frilled out into swooping lace flowers that had cramped your fingers but made you shine with pride. It was priceless, to you at least. It wasn't a necessity, a need. That in itself made it an expensive item in your eyes. Yet your fingers rubbed the fabric in silent anger. ‘Had I not been so selfish. I could have saved the money to have on hand for a ring. A silent debate raged in your head. What had you expected to happen if you traded the ring to begin with? You didn't have the money backed up to afford a new one. You would have been in the same parliament. Foolish. That's what you were. Hopefully, the fae saw the expensive mistake as being up to par with a solid golden ring.
It was peaceful, oddly so. Your fingers worked up the wild horse radish from his home in the ground, carefully placing them in the basket to avoid the lacework. Moving your way to the dandelions. Carefully extract the plant roots altogether. Yet the world that seemed to hum stilled. Even the trees seemed to hold their breath.
“I have waited for you,kleine Bär (little bear),” a voice rumbles out, yet it was sweet and shy. Quiet in an odd way. You had never heard the voice before, spinning around to see him.
He was tall, towering over you. His shoulders were broad enough that he’d probably struggle to get through a door. He was standing in an almost painful way. It had taken a minute to realize why his posture felt off. His legs bent in odd ways, as two hooves were visible from the bottom of his earthy brown robe. Golden accents shimmered from the light that escaped past the trees. Golden clips shaped as laurel leaves are attached to his shoulders. Is that what the fae has done with the gold? The earthy-toned fabric draped around his broad shoulders like a statue. Jagged edges licked at his wrist,bits of gold left in the trace as if he had ripped off the cuffs. His face was hidden in almost a veil. A sheet of dark green silk hung to cover his face, ear to ear. Or where his ears would be, instead, a pair of soft-looking deer, maybe deer, ears sat on the top of his head between two large antlers. His soft, dirty brown hair ruffled and poked off in odd directions. He was terrifying. But…but birds chirped near him. A few nuzzled into his antlers, decorating them with vines and leaves as if trying to make him a tree to nest in. A morning dove cooed happily near the stem of his antlers. Pecking and moving his hair around to fit it;s demands.
“You did not bring your ring.” A large hand reached out, palm out and fingers slightly curled. “Unless you have something else to offer me, mein Liebling (my love)”. You thickly swallowed, body frozen. You had never seen this fae before. “Unless you didn't-”
“No! no, I'm sor-” You stopped yourself just in time, taking a deep breath. To say sorry meant you take ownership of something that you then needed to fix. “I did- I did bring something in exchange.” You whipped your dirtied finger tips on your skirt, fishing out the folded fabric, and carefully placing it in his hand. It seemed like a face cloth resting in his hand. “I hope there is no dirt on it…” You softly said, watching the fae hold it up to observe.
More birds seemed to come near, gathering in the tree. Quietly chirping as if to discuss your fate. A hum, more so a rumble, left his chest. “It is most beautiful, little bear,” he said, glancing up from the cloth. Hope blossomed in your chest, and the birds fell quiet. He took careful steps toward you, as if you were a scared animal. “It's lovely,” he hummed again, reaching a careful, large hand to cup your jaw. His thumb is rubbing small circles on your jawbone. “It will make the most lovely veil on you, mein kleine Frau (my little wife)"
