Strange Magic Fanfic - “In An Awful Fix”, Chapter Four
“Once you get it/You’re in an awful fix/‘Cause after you’ve had it/Ya never wanna quit…”
Marianne and Bog can’t help themselves. Both of their Kingdoms pay.
Part 12 for my Strange Hearts & Wild Things timeline!
(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three)
Chapter Four: Dagda
Dagda hummed to himself as he made his way down the halls to the Council Chamber, his steps and heart both light as dusk fell about the land. Singing songs was something only the young crowd truly did, but for a moment he was tempted to let loose with a few notes, before chuckling and shaking his head. You’re the still the King even if it is for only one more week now. Keep your dignity while you can.
Dagda’s smile broadened at the thought. All conceivable preparations had been made for the coronation ceremony, and for the first time in a long time, he felt he could breath easy. It was finally here…
His decision to move Marianne’s coronation up was undoubtedly one of his best – the sight of his girl, so brave and strong and true, being crowned before the Kingdom, his Kingdom –
Her Kingdom…
To think he was actually going to see his precious girl to be Queen…
Dagda sighed, his heart full. Oh darling, I wish you were here to see it.
The faint pang of pain at that thought pulled at his mouth bit, but Dagda determinedly pushed it aside and moved onward. The past could not be changed, and when the future looked as bright as it did now, it was all too easy to fix one’s eyes on that glow of promise. Marianne would wear the crown that had sat on her mother’s brow, and at long last, the Fairy Kingdom would once more have a Queen, one the likes of which Dagda was sure the Fields had never seen.
And she’ll rule with a King who will match her in that regard…
Dagda’s steps slowed, and then he gave a sigh that was both weary and self-recriminating. He could not pretend that he didn’t still have some…concerns over Marianne choosing the Bog King, but he certainly hoped none of them carried the poison of prejudice. He was trying to get better at that, he was. The last thing they needed before the coronation was another reason for Marianne to lose her faith in him again…
He straightened up and marched down the hall. He would not fail her again. It was the vow of a King and the promise of a father.
Speaking of fatherly duties, he should try and check up on Marianne. She had been holding up quite well during the final wait before the ceremony, but Dagda knew his girl well enough to know that she would be keen to hide any anxiety for the fear of looking weak. She might appreciate him offering any support he could in these last few days. The last time he had seen here, she had mentioned that she would be in the Library. He could always stop there on his way to the Council Chamber to pick up some royal documents –
Dagda looked up suddenly, realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention as he walked, consumed by his thoughts, and gave a surprised chuckle. After years of pacing in thought, his body was used to taking over and using muscle memory to take certain paths. And now the Library doors loomed before him, and he shook his head once more, a smile crossing his lips.
And yes, there was Marianne’s voice, sounding very empathetic about something and being rather loud, considering she was in the Library –
No matter. With a brisk cheeriness, Dagda reached a hand for the handle and as he called out to her. “Marianne? It’s your father.” He pulled the door open and poked his head in, his smile echoed in his voice. “I was just wondering if –“
Dagda closed the door so quickly that it nearly slammed, the reverberations of it sending tingling shudders jolting through his hand. It would have been intensely uncomfortable if he hadn’t been numb with pure shock, his heart thudding sickeningly –
He closed his eyes, which he immediately and profoundly regretted, the image of that – them – burning clear –
Oh skies, right on the table -
There was a deep, painful silence both in the hall and behind the doors, the tension thickening so fast it felt like it was pressing down on him. Then Dagda was able to summon up a deep, calming breath. You’re the King. Be strong.
He kept his eyes closed as he addressed the door. “I should have knocked.”
His voice was determinedly calm in a way that indicated all too well that he was most certainly not, and a small sound of pure mortification leaked out from beneath the doors.
Then Marianne spoke, her voice both breathless and cracking from humiliation. “No – Dad – it’s – it’s okay, we’ll – I’ll be out –“
“No no no, I’ll – I’ll just…” Dagda stumbled and stuttered over his assurances. Oh heavens, there was no formal training on how to deal with a fellow King doing that to your daughter –
A Goblin doing that –!
Dagda bit on his cheek, his emotions hot and messy as they crashed about inside him. It’s not because he’s a Goblin, you would have reacted this way if you had seen her with Roland or any other Fairy, you’re her father and it’s protectiveness, not disgust, it’s not because he’s a Goblin –
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Focus. “I’m going to go to the Council Chamber,” he said as clearly as he could. “We…we can talk later.”
There was a pause, and then a low, pained exhale, barely heard from behind the heavy doors. Really, what with how noise was muffled, small wonder he hadn’t known not to –
“…Okay. I’ll…I mean, we need to…um, clean up in here anyway.”
Dagda repressed the deeply felt urge to wince and instead gave a short, sharp nod, before realizing that she couldn’t see that. “Uh…yes. Of course. You…you take the time that you need, my dear.”
He quickly started down the hall, the cool press of his armor already picking up the heat of the flush that seared up his neck and spine, all traces of his previous good mood utterly demolished -
There was a rough rumble of a sigh, and a new, instantly recognizable voice came from behind the doors in a low mutter. “Thank gods Mother only walked in on us after we –“
There was a crackling sound like the swat of a palm hitting scales, and a yelp.
Dagda picked up the pace, repeating his old wish that that flight hadn’t been lost to him with newfound fervency.
It was a wonder that the floor of his chambers didn’t have a rut worn into the floor by now, what with how he had passed them for all these years. Dagda now wished there was a one, any visible way to guide his steps. Now he was just wandering in wild, disorganized loops, sightless and unthinking and yet concentrating so hard on not thinking about it, them –
Sprawled on the table –
Dagda groaned and rubbed at his eyes. He would have to have the servants scour it until the very varnish came off. Or maybe he could just do away with it entirely. Perhaps a bonfire to celebrate Marianne’s reign was in order –
Dagda stopped and clenched his fists, his face furrowing in self-disgust. He was being horribly over-dramatic. He was not the first parent to walk in on their child in – in such intimate moments, nor would he be the last.
And whether it was with a Goblin or an Elf or a fellow ruler or a subject, Dagda would do right by his girls and make sure that they needn’t fear his reaction – truly, for skies sake, it wasn’t like it wasn’t just as mortifying for them –
Dagda sighed and straightened both his spine and his crown. He could do this.
Besides, there was the very likely chance indeed that if he had – encountered Marianne and Bog like that, then so had others. And if that was the case, Marianne would certainly need his help in quelling any ideas that she had –
There was a somewhat timid knock at his door, and an even more timid voice. “…Dad? It’s Marianne.”
Dagda felt his stomach give a traitorous lurch before he firmly set his jaw. She needs to see that you can do this. “Please come in, my dear.”
The door opened with a soft click, and Marianne slid in, her eyes large and lovely and so very worried. She did indeed look considerably…tidier than when he had last seen her –
– on the table, pinned by that great scaly body –
Dagda clenched his hands, his nails biting into his palms. For goodness sake, don’t think about it.
Marianne, always so keen-eyed from her training, took in that tiny gesture and her eyes grew full even more full of trepidation, and she bit at her lip as a hand fluttered up to her hair. The movement tugged at the line of her collar, and Dagda suddenly spotted a splotch of purple, the crescent moon mark of it on her throat unmistakable–
Dagda flushed hot, but fought desperately to keep his expression neutral. But oh heavens, his sweet girl marked by those fangs –
Although now that he thought of it, certain marks that had been lurking at the Bog King’s throat were no longer so perplexing –
To think his Marianne had done that –
Dagda hastily pulled back his wince. No, definitely do not think.
Marianne’s eyes flickered over his face, and her cheeks flushed pink as primroses before she exhaled gustily. “Dad – Dad, I’m so sorry –“
“No, darling, I am,” Dagda said sincerely, his own discomfort outweighed by the need to spare his girl anymore pain. “I should have knocked –“
“I should have locked the door,” Marianne quipped, raising a shoulder and giving a somewhat guilty smile.
Dagda blanched, and Marianne immediately blushed anew, her eyes wide and mortified. “Oh my god, I – Dad, I was just – I was just kidding, I wasn’t – oh god, I just need to shut up –“
“No no no, please don’t shut up – I mean, please don’t feel like you need to…” Dagda’s voice trailed off, and then he gave a sigh, passing a weary hand over his face. His voice was muffled when he spoke again. “I’m no good at this.”
Marianne gave a small laugh, her cheeks still pink. “That makes two of us.”
Dagda betrayed a somewhat weak chuckle, before looking back up at her, and oh, she looked so nervous, so unsure. His voice got soft with sincerity as he took her in. “Marianne, my dear…it’s all right. I…I understand.”
Marianne blinked at him, looking thoroughly unnerved. “You…you do?”
Dagda nodded, her obvious shock spurring him on. “I…yes, I suppose. I mean, I wouldn’t say any father would – would want to see that –“
Marianne blushed crimson and looked down, her wings giving a twitch as though tempted to wrap around herself as a shield.
Dagda hastily continued. “But – well, you and the Bog King have – have been together for quite some time now” – and I’ve only just accepted that, but that’s another matter entirely – “and…and all couples need those…moments.”
Marianne was looking at him like she had never seen him before, but nodded, slow and dazed. “Uh…yeah…”
“I…” Dagda flushed but moved to her, taking her hands gently. He kept his eyes on her fingers, but the sincerity in his voice was soft and real. “You…you can take care of yourself, my dear. I…I trust you.”
There was a shaky exhale, and when Dagda dared to look up, Marianne looked almost close to tears, she seemed so relieved and touched. “Dad…” she murmured, her voice catching a bit, and her hands squeezed his.
Dagda squeezed back, a smile tugging at his lips. They could do this.
Then one of his earlier thoughts suddenly came back to him, and he gripped her hands with a bit more urgency. “I only suggest that you exercise a bit more…discreetness.”
Marianne pinked again, and Dagda squirmed a bit himself but persevered onwards nonetheless. “You and I both know how people love to talk –“
“Only too well,” Marianne agreed, her eyes grim with understanding.
Dagda nodded fervently, his crown jouncing a bit. “Exactly. We can’t dangerous assumptions and accusations flying about, especially before your coronation. I mean, if there were rumors that you – well – that you and the Bog King, um, had, uh, engaged in – before –” Dagda’s face burned beneath his beard. Oh dear.
Marianne’s brow was furrowing in confusion, and he rushed on, hasty and earnest. “Marianne, I know you would never, I do. I know you would never take such a risk. But unless you exercise a bit more caution, there will be talk that you two have been…intimate before any official betrothal has been declared.” Dagda sighed over just the thought of such nasty speculation before clasping his daughters’ hands again, hoping she could see he wasn’t being false in his reassurances. “But I know you understand that, darling. I know you would never.”
Marianne stared at him, her eyes huge and unblinking, seemingly frozen where she stood.
Dagda bit a lip anxiously. Goodness, he hoped he hadn’t shocked or offended her with such a frank speech about – that – but…
He licked his lips and tried to find another way to drive his point home. “I mean, if there was any doubt that you weren’t a virgin before being crowned –“
“Dad,” Marianne said, the sudden sound of her voice quite loud. “Dad, it’s okay. I…I get it.”
Dagda brightened. “You do?”
Marianne nodded, and Dagda saw that her cheeks were a bit pale. It seemed like the severity of the situation had gotten to her after all. Her eyes looked down away from his, and Dagda felt a slight twist go through his heart that such a topic had embarrassed her so.
“We’ll…” she inhaled deeply and then looked back up at him, her jaw clenched, and the hazel of her eyes shone with determination and honesty. “We’ll be…discreet.”
Dagda felt himself almost wilt in relief, and he beamed at her. “Thank you, sweetheart. I knew you would understand.” Another thought came to him, and he looked at her worriedly. “Of course, I’m not trying to say that you can’t – well, have any, um…fun at all –“
“DAD!” Marianne squawked, dropping his hands to clamp hers to her once again brilliantly red cheeks.
Dagda hastily backed up, putting up his hands. “I’m sorry! I’ll stop! I’ll, um, leave now–“
Marianne shook her head so hard her ears waggled. “No no no, I’ll, um, leave – I mean, these are your chambers –“
Oh. Right. Dagda smiled at her, his cheeks feeling a touch pink too. “Of course. Thank you for coming by to talk about this, my dear.”
Marianne bit her lip and nodded, her eyes once more fixed on the floor as she nearly ran to the door, exiting with clumsy haste. Dagda sighed. Well, he suppose there would always be some things that were just plain uncomfortable to talk to your father about –
Oh, like you were any better.
Dagda winced and then gave a laugh that verged on a sigh. I’m the King, not a miracle worker, my love.
It would be fine. Everything would be fine. There coronation would proceed as planned, and even if Dagda was certain he wouldn’t be able to look the Bog King in the face for at least a week now, there was no true damage done. He and Marianne understood each other.
All was well.
“What do you mean, ‘he can never know’?”
“What I mean, almighty Bog King, is that he thought we were just making out!”
“…What?”
“Yeah...”
“How the bloody hell did he not –?”
“Y’know, I never thought I would say this, but...there are times that Dad’s willful blindness can be a gift.”
Strange Magic FanFic – “Sins of the Father”, Part 2
A daughter escapes to the refuge of darkness, and Dagda is confronted by the one who remains with the sheer damage he has wrought…
Part One
A follow up fanfic for the events in Once Shattered, Twice Shy and To Bloom In Darkness. Part 11 for my Strange Hearts & Wild Things timeline, and the Final Part to the Three Part Arc that began with Once Shattered, Twice Shy.
YOU WILL HAVE HAD TO HAVE READ THOSE FANFICS TO UNDERSTAND THIS FANFIC. Just a friendly reminder!
Just a casual FYI, this chapter is my favorite. Make of that what you will. Dawn, my Princess, I bow to you…
“Daddy, how could you?!”
Dagda stared into the dark void that had swallowed his eldest daughter, unable to respond to Dawn’s agonized wail. His heart twisted in his chest, torn between freezing in horror – how could he have said it, what had he been thinking – and racing with urgency – “I forbid you to fly into the Dark Forest!” - have to keep her safe, have to rescue her–
His feet moving of their own accord, he rushed to the window, his armor clattering, his wings flaring. He didn’t think about his weight or his age, didn’t think about how it had been ages since he had last flown, he had to go to her, had to make her understand –
There was a sharp tug at his wing, and Dagda stumbled back, uttering an oath before turning back furiously to see what he had snagged himself on, what prevented him from going after his –
Dawn’s thin hands clenched at the edge of his wing, her eyes aflame with urgency. “Daddy, you can’t!”
Dagda tried to wrest himself away from her clasp without damaging his wing. “Dawn, I have to –“
“Marianne said not to follow her!”
“Marianne isn’t in her right mind!” Dagda tugged himself free and threw out a hand to the window. “You saw her! She was positively –“
“Which is why we can’t follow her! If we do –“
“If we don’t, she could be killed!” Dagda valiantly tried to ignore the burn of horrible, wretched guilt in his chest. I should be going after her, I should be taking action–
A King would do that for his heir –
A father would do that for his child –
Marianne, I’m so -
Consumed by his thoughts, Dagda moved to the window, and Dawn threw herself in front of him, her arms outstretched, her wings flaring. “If we do, we lose her again! She’s not in danger! Right now, that’s where she’s gonna be the safest! Where she’ll feel the safest!”
Dagda could only blindly scan the night outside the window, barely registering Dawn or her words. If he had, he probably would have given the most wretched laugh. The Dark Forest, safe?
His breath was short and his body was cold in his once sweltering armor. “I – I need to go after her,” Dagda said, his face ashen and lost. “I – I need to –“
“No!” Dawn’s voice was frantic, her eyes wide with desperation. “Remember what she said! She told us not to follow her!”
“Dawn, enough!” Dagda’s voice was harsh with impatience and concern as purpose began to fill him. He couldn’t waste any time, Marianne needed him. He couldn’t leave her to fend for herself, he was her father–
He hadn’t gone after her the first time. Never again.
He sidestepped his youngest, his face contorting in a stubborn grimace fraught with deep worry. “What Marianne said doesn’t matter, I need to –“
“YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO HER!”
Dagda froze at the bellowed words, shocked into stillness that such a thunderous command had come from his little girl, that her petite frame was capable of summoning up such power…
Dawn stamped her foot, her sweet face contorted in frustration. “OH MY GOD! Do you not hear yourself, Daddy?! That’s what caused all of this in the first place! You not listening to Marianne! You ignoring her! First with Roland, and now this! Damn it, you will never get her back if you go after her now!”
Dagda’s response was automatic, drilled in by fatherhood, inane as it sounded and numb with shock as he felt. “Don’t swear, Dawn –“
“Damn hell ass,” Dawn shot back, crossing her arms and glaring at him. The blue of her eyes positively simmered as her father gaped at her, and her rosebud mouth set itself in a determined scowl. “Now that we got that out of the way, maybe you can start freaking listening to me, then to Marianne!”
Dawn’s slender shoulders were heaving, her eyes glistening with furious, unshed tears. Dagda found himself torn between the paternal instinct to comfort his distressed child and pure shock. He had never seen his baby girl like this. Marianne is supposed to be the angry one.
He ignored the nonsensical thought and studied his little girl cautiously, as though she were a new and untamable creature he didn’t want to provoke. It was simply strange to see her like this - Dawn’s eyes got wide with apprehension or delight, she shook with excitement or nerves, not rage, certainly not rage directed at him, righteous fury in every delicate line of her –
Dagda was struck, in the sheer surreality of the moment, how much his girls truly did resemble each other. To the casual eye, they had always been as different as night and day, but now –
Leave it to anger to show that they’re flesh and blood.
Dawn was too lost to her anger to notice his shocked scrutiny and gave a great sigh of frustration and regret. “Daddy, you absolutely cannot go after Marianne, not after what you did. If you did, it’s just gonna…I don’t know, reinforce that you haven’t learned anything from what happened with Roland!”
At that, Dagda drew back, affronted. “I most certainly did learn -!”
“No, Daddy,” Dawn countered, effectively cutting him off, her eyes large and serious. “You didn’t learn what really counts. You still aren’t listening to Marianne. You still don’t trust her to make her own decisions.”
Dagda gaped at her before a swell of righteous fury washed over him. “I trust - how dare you, Dawn –“
“Do you want to have another daughter run away from you tonight, Daddy?” Dawn said, her voice high but with a cold snap to it. “Because that’s not gonna happen. I’ve let this go on for too long, watched you and Marianne butt heads all the time, and I was too afraid too say anything, too afraid that you would – that you would treat me like you treat her.”
She crossed her arms, and Dagda only had room for one stunned thought – like I treat her? – before she continued on. “Well, that’s over. It’s – it’s time for me to step up. So you can be angry all you want, Dad. But first you’re gonna have to step up and be the King and the father you should have been, and actually listen.”
Dagda could only stare at Dawn, his fair little Dawn, her blue eyes bright and frosty, her slender arms crossed resolutely. The father you should have been…
Words from long ago, the haze of painful recollection and the dust of time long since clouding them, suddenly came to him –
“I…I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not strong enough, I’m not…I wasn’t born to rule as you were, my love. I…I can’t be the King the people need, the one you deserve at your side – you’re better off without me -“
“Dagda, enough. I love you. Your birthright doesn’t stop that, nothing could. I love you, and I am stronger because of that. And…if you love me as much as I love you…a Queen couldn’t ask for a better King at her side. We’ll do this together, like we’re supposed to.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Of course I am! It was always going to be scary…but the best adventures usually are.”
Dagda’s heart throbbed with pain as the echo of his wife’s warm, sincere tones reverberated through his old bones, his lonely soul. Darling…
He had thought he had been a good King, even after the devastation of her loss…
He had thought he had been a good father, despite the troublesome balance of raising girls and ruling a Kingdom…
Had he been wrong?
Had he failed her? Failed his girls? His kingdom?
Dagda recoiled, faltering. Surely not, surely he hadn’t been so blind –
You were blind about Roland.
Dagda flinched, and Dawn’s stern front cracked a bit, concern for her father coming through the cornflower blue of her gaze.
Dagda was too consumed with the torment of his thoughts and emotions to notice.
He had been blind about Roland before witnessing just what the Fairy Knight he had so easily and eagerly seen as his successor had been willing to do to his Marianne, how that handsome, golden face sported only a triumphant grin as he threw that glittery pink poison at her, making Dagda’s heart seize in horror–
If he had been so blind about him, could he have been deaf to his girls as well?
Dagda’s shoulders slumped, his armor clanking dejectedly. He would never get answers to these questions by letting them chase after each other in his mind.
Dawn…Dawn was right, the very least he could do was listen to her before he went after –
Marianne, staring at him, her lovely eyes wet and burning and betrayed, her voice harsh as granite. “Don’t follow me.”
Dagda sighed once more. One daughter at a time. He looked at Dawn and gave her a nod that erred on the side of timid.
Dawn squared her shoulders, obviously girding herself for what was going to be a lengthy lecture. “Dad…you hurt Marianne tonight.” Despite her obvious anger at him, there was a reluctance in Dawn’s tone that revealed her dislike of saying such a thing. Dagda still had to fight hard to remain stoic under such a harsh truth. “But…that’s not the first time you’ve done that. I don’t why you thought it was okay to bring up Roland after everything –!“
“I didn’t, it just slipped out -!”
“All that means is that you’re still holding onto him in some way!” Dawn said empathetically, frowning. “After what he did to her, imagine how that must have made her feel!”
There was no need to imagine it. The look of raw betrayal on Marianne’s face burned through Dagda’s mind, and a fresh wave of guilt and shame swept over his skin in a prickling wave.
His cheeks flushing behind his beard, he looked away as Dawn bit her lip but continued on. “You hurt her. But…you’ve been hurting her for a while now. Before tonight, before Bog. Ever since Marianne called the wedding to Roland off, Daddy, you…you haven’t listened to her.”
And even though a part of him knew that he should simply do penance, Marianne came by her stubbornness honestly. “Dawn, that isn’t fair, I have -!”
“No, you’re the one who’s not being fair!” Dawn’s frustration and anger came back in full force, and she stamped her foot, throwing her hands up in the air for good measure. “Not now, not then! You didn’t listen to Marianne when she said she was done with Roland! You didn’t listen to her when she said she was done with Love!”
“She was miserable!” Dagda shot back. “A life without Love barely constitutes as a life! I wanted her to be happy!”
“Because she was easier to deal with when she was happy, wasn’t she?” Dawn demanded, setting her hands on her hips.
Dagda pulled back at that, thrown. He had wanted Marianne to be happy, he had –
“I just want to see the happy Marianne I used to know –“
His sweet, clumsy, forthright Marianne. Romantic Marianne with her kind, open-as-the-skies heart. Passionate Marianne with her wild ideas, bringing color to his world, banishing all dullness and misery…
His firstborn had always been…well, a bit of a handful, but happy. Despite her dark looks, Marianne had been his messy bit of sunlight, spilling her warmth onto everything she touched. So very easy to love, his sweet, strange, happy girl…
And then she had met Roland, so dashing and handsome and gallant, and the sheer light of her joy had rivaled the sun -
But when she had called off the wedding, when everything had changed…
Dagda had been utterly lost, grasping at straws to understand what had happened. He had been at the alter with Roland, his vast joy and pride at seeing his eldest marry gradually transforming into disquietude as the wait stretched on and on...
And then flat out shock had reigned when Dawn had told him Marianne’s message, her blue eyes wide and concerned, darting to Roland –
“Roland – my boy, what could have – did something happen? Why would Marianne -?”
“Ah, well…this is just a…misunderstanding, your majesty. Teensy little hiccup! No fear, I’m sure Marianne will come to her senses –“
After that fateful day, his happy Marianne was gone.
In her place was a wild and dark and bitter young woman who scorned Love and all of her previous ideals, all of her once beloved values and dreams. Before, she had made a proper effort to fit in with others, devoted the right amount of attention and concern in making the right impression. Whether or not she succeeded had been another matter, but at least she had tried -
Afterwards, she hadn’t cared whom she offended or made uncomfortable with her wild ways, her bone-dry wit, her flinty cynicism and dour anger…
So full of anger and misery…
Dagda hadn’t the faintest idea of how to reach this angry and remote person who had replaced his happy girl, not a single clue on how to control her rampant…uniqueness…
He hadn’t known his own daughter anymore…
Dawn watched her father become increasingly caught in his thoughts, and sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Dad, I get it. Marianne was hard to deal with. I hated seeing her so unhappy, too. And how she started hovering over me - so annoying!” She looked down at her hands, twisting them a bit. “I made it pretty obvious to her, how I hated that she didn’t trust me anymore.” She gave a tiny sigh. “I always ended up ignoring her anyway.”
Dagda made a noncommittal noise at that – Marianne’s protectiveness of Dawn had been one of the few things he had appreciated about her sudden transformation, keeping her flirty ways under control, steering her away from all of those boys…
Dawn frowned at him, clearly knowing what he was thinking. “But that’s the thing, Daddy! I may have not listened to her in other ways, but I never once tried to tell her to take Roland back! I saw that he had hurt her, Dad. I trusted her decision!” Dawn’s bright blue eyes, eyes that never failed to remind Dagda of his beloved wife, burned with disappointment. “You didn’t. You didn’t listen to her. You didn’t trust her, and you didn’t respect her.”
Dagda sputtered. “Not respect her -?!”
Dawn stood firm, planting her feet like a flower reaching down roots. “No, you didn’t. Marianne made it clear to you so many times that she wasn’t going to give Roland a second chance, that she didn’t want to give him a second chance. And you ignored her each time, always tried to push her back to him, always encouraged Roland to go after her. Even after it was obvious that he had hurt her!” Dawn heaved a great sigh of frustration and looked at her father in bewildered misery. “Did – did that mean anything to you? Knowing that he hurt her, knowing that he was the one responsible for making her so miserable?”
Dagda was torn between offense and wanting to squirm. “Dawn – that’s…you know it meant something, dear, you know I hated seeing her like that, being so unhappy!”
“Then why try to make her give Roland a second chance?!”
“Because he had made her happy!” Dagda burst out. “They were happy together, Dawn, and they were right together, just like your mother and me –“
Dagda’s voice abruptly guttered out as soon as his words reached his ears, and silence rang in the dining chamber.
Dawn’s face was sorrowful with understanding. “Had made her happy, Dad.” She said quietly. “Looked right together. But Marianne and Roland were never you or Mom.”
Dagda looked away from the pain in her soft blue eyes, deeply shaken. He – he hadn’t meant to say that, had never actually realized he had seen them like that –
The dark haired Crown Princess falling head over heels for a Fairy Knight from a noble but meager house, not a drop of royal blood to his name...
He had felt an immediate connection to the handsome lad, knew all too well the pressures of marrying into the throne –
Dagda’s throat got tight; he was so overcome by such a reveal, this part of him he hadn’t even been aware of, and the sudden wave of memories –
Marianne and Roland had even met the same way as they had, at the Spring Ball –
Dawn sighed, shaking her head. “As for Roland making her happy…I don’t know, Daddy. I always got this…feeling about him. He was good-looking, obviously, and yeah, Marianne was crazy about him, but…” She sighed once more, rubbing at her arms. “He never really seemed to be…happier around her, y’know? She didn’t make him smile.” She suddenly snorted. “Not that he ever stopped smiling…” she muttered to herself.
Dagda wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “Dawn–“
Dawn continued on, her voice getting faster, her words tumbling out. “And he would always make these little comments, always make her feel so self-conscious, always make her doubt herself, so that he could be there to make her feel better, so that he was the one -!”
She suddenly bowed her head, her fluff of golden locks drooping. “I should have said something.” Her voice was soft, pain and guilt staining it. “She asked me, and – and I knew something wasn’t right, but…all I had was a feeling, and she was just so happy –“
“Because he made her –“ Dagda attempted.
“Well that sure changed!” Dawn retorted, her head coming up and her fists going back to her hips as she glared at him. “It doesn’t matter if she was happy with him before, Daddy! It doesn’t change that he hurt her!” Her eyes looked down, staring at something he couldn’t see, and her shoulders hunched as she spoke, her voice troubled and hushed. “I saw her that day, Daddy. I saw her crying on her bed like her heart was breaking. I…I never forgot that. I guess…I guess that’s why I had never tried to tell Marianne to give him another chance. No matter what he did…he made my sister cry.”
Something in Dagda crumbled as he looked at her, so lost to whatever painful memory she was seeing. She and Marianne had been so close before it all…
He made her cry…
Dagda had never seen his eldest like that. Tears of temper when she was a toddler, all too often, but those didn’t count. Her grief over her mother’s passing had been dry-eyed, her sorrow beyond tears. But tears of heartbreak…
He hadn’t seen those, hadn’t seen his girl like that. He had been with Roland…
“This is just a misunderstanding…”
“A misunderstanding wouldn’t have made her cry like that, Daddy,” Dawn said shortly, making Dagda start. He hadn’t even realized he had said Roland’s words aloud –
Dawn continued on, obviously getting hot with anger once more. “And I know that you wanted her to be happy, Daddy. But you wanted her to be happy on your terms! And you still do! Marianne’s right – she’s happy with who she is, happy with Bog, happy for the first time in ages, and you can’t accept it because it’s not how you wanted it to be! You can’t accept it because some stupid part of you can’t let go of someone like Roland being your successor, because you saw yourself in him, never mind that he would have made an awful King. You’re still ignoring her because that’s easier for you to do than look at yourself and admit that you were wrong, that you are wrong -!”
“I was wrong, but –“ Dagda interjected.
“But nothing, Dad.” Dawn’s voice was horribly final. “Saying that you were wrong means nothing if you obviously haven’t learned anything from it. You ignored Marianne countless times, constantly pushed her to take him back, even though he hurt her –“
“But she never told us how!” Dagda said desperately. “If we had known –“
“No, she didn’t.” Dawn looked down, her brow furrowed and her fingers knitting together. “But…she…she shouldn’t have had to. We’re her family. We’re supposed to choose her, support her. We were supposed to have listened to her. It doesn’t matter how Roland hurt her. He hurt her. That’s enough. And…” Dawn’s shoulders shook a bit, but she soldiered on bravely. “And we both dismissed that. But…you were the one to go too far.”
Dagda could only mouth at her soundlessly, couldn’t even think of what to say.
Well, good. That makes listening all the more easy for you, doesn’t it?
Dagda froze as his wife’s voice echoed through his mind, her tone as tart as a berry, the way it always got if she thought he was being particularly slow…
Dagda sighed. I’m trying, dear.
His introspection was interrupted by another sigh from Dawn, and the frustration in it mixed with sad bewilderment. “Daddy…why do you hate Bog? I thought – you’ve met with him in the past, haven’t you? I thought you got along then –“
“I don’t hate him,” Dagda said automatically, but he meant it. He had never held any particular vicious grudge against Bog. Never had a reason to until now.
Dagda ignored that poisonous thought and instead focused on his daughter’s sweet, troubled face. “Dawn, darling…the Bog King is –“
“A King,” Dawn said, her mouth getting tight. “A King just like you.” Dagda flinched at the echo of Marianne’s angry words, the memory of how her voice cracked hitting him hard.
But Dawn had a particular form of mercilessness that, while she didn’t use it often, was dangerously savvy when she did. And tonight it was directed at him. “Don’t you see him as a King? Haven’t you respected him as one?”
“I have, and I do,” Dagda answered quickly. “He’s…he’s a far different ruler than I am, but…the Light Fields are far different than the Dark Forest.” They’re safer, they’re known –
“Then it’s not because you don’t see him as a King,” Dawn murmured, and her eyes were once more horribly disappointed. “It’s because you see him as a Goblin, first and foremost.”
Dagda’s cheeks burned at that, but he did not do her the disservice of denying it. “Yes, I do,” he said quietly. “Because he is. A Goblin, who after years of keeping a powerful sprite captive, decided to come into my lands and threaten my subjects at one of our beloved festivals. A Goblin who overwhelmed the Royal Guard.” And oh, that had burned, to know how unprepared they had been, how easily the dark and terrifying King had them at his mercy, a horrifying and humiliating reminder at his own inadequacy at protecting his people, his family…
Dagda walked over to the dining table, leaning his fists upon it, his breath short and his eyes squeezed shut as he relived it, saw it so clearly in his minds eyes –
Dawn’s sweet face, clouded in a pink, glittering haze, disappearing under that sack, her frightened calls for help as she had been dragged away, his little girl, they had taken his baby girl –
“A Goblin who kidnapped you,” Dagda said fiercely, and he looked over his shoulder at Dawn, his eyes bright with remembered pain and the injustice of it all. “How – how can you forgive him for that, Dawn? How can Marianne?”
“Because I can, Daddy. Boggy isn’t proud of what he did that night,” Dawn said quietly. “I know he regrets it, and not just because of me getting hit with the Love Potion. Daddy…Bog kept me safe. Everything that happened that night…I could have been seriously hurt if it hadn’t been for him. He kept the other goblins from eating me –“
“Eating you?!”
“Relax, Dad.” Dawn sighed and joined him at the table, leaning against it next to him. “He could have thrown me to the Forest, what with how annoying I was being, all loopy from the Love Potion, but…he put me in the dungeon to keep me safe, keep me near. Sure, I was the bait, but…he visited me and he was…he was kind. He didn’t want me to suffer, he knew the situation was unfair for me.” She fixed him with a frank gaze. “Daddy, I wouldn’t be so supportive of Marianne being with him if I didn’t know what he was really like. Beneath all the snarls and grumpiness, Bog’s a sweetheart. He loves Marianne.”
It was Dagda’s turn to sigh. “Dawn, sweethearts don’t kidnap Princesses –“
“They do if they feel its their only option,” Dawn countered.
“That doesn’t negate what he did!”
“It doesn’t,” Dawn agreed. “But believe me, Bog made up for it. I wasn’t joking when I said I could have been seriously hurt if it weren’t for him. Bog saved my life, Daddy. When the Castle was collapsing, and…” She hesitated and looked away, her face full of pained recollection. “You said that sweethearts don’t kidnap princesses. Well, heroes aren’t supposed to threaten them.”
Dagda stared at her, desperately confused. “Threaten -? Dawn, I don’t –“
“Roland had a sword at my neck,” Dawn said quietly. “As soon as things started looking bad for him, as soon as Boggy stopped him from Dusting Marianne that first time, he – he grabbed me. I had been scared of Bog getting hurt by him, I was too close, and –“
She fell silent, her soft blue eyes haunted.
Dagda, meanwhile, could only feel a numb horror sink heavily into the pit of his stomach like a stone into a stream…
The man he had entrusted an army to – the Knight who had sworn to protect the Royal Family no matter what the cost – the man who he had sent to fetch back his sweet girl –
He had threatened the life of his baby, his Dawn, innocent, trusting Dawn who had never so much as harmed a fly, held a sword to her slender throat –
“You…you never told me…” Dagda said shakily. A cold and unforgiving prickle of realization crept underneath his armor and down his spine. Roland could have killed her, killed her without any regard, tossed her body aside as soon as she stopped being of use to him…
“I don’t like to think about it,” Dawns said simply, her eyes still full of shadows. She then gave a wry smile. “You know, that’s probably why Marianne never told us what happened that day. Hurts to remember.” Her smile dropped and she sighed once more, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, goose bumps prickling them despite the muggy heat. “The only reason I’m alive is because of Bog and Marianne, Bog especially. He fought Roland, got me out of the Castle when it was collapsing. He was willing to let it crush him as long as Marianne and I got free…”
She then shot him a narrow look, some of her earlier fire returning to her, her mouth pursing. “So don’t you dare try to imply that being a Goblin is something – something bad or lesser or whatever, Daddy. It was a Goblin who saved my life, who was willing to die for some little Love Dusted Fairy he barely knew!” Her eyes had an uncommonly shrewd glint to them as she fixed him with a hard stare. “Would you have done that? For a Goblin you barely knew?”
Dagda gaped and stammered. “I – well, I would hope –“
“Of course you would,” Dawn sighed. “You’re not heartless, Daddy. But…” she squirmed but crossed her arms resolutely. “…You are too set in your ways. How you think about goblins and fairies and –“ Dawn flushed slightly but persevered, “ – and elves. It’s not good. It needs to change. You need to change.”
Dagda was torn. A part of him knew that she was right, knew with no small amount of discomfort that he had gotten blind due to comforting tradition, was aware some biases might have indeed taken root in his heart, but –
“It’s not just me, darling,” he explained, anxiety making his stomach grumble – although that might have been a demand for his long denied dinner. He tried to focus, meeting her eyes so she could see his earnestness, his worry. “This Kingdom…yes, matches between different sections isn’t something that is looked…” he vainly tried to think of the appropriate word, “…fondly on. It’s a view that many nobles here share –“
“Because they’re prejudiced,” Dawn said tartly, arching a decidedly unimpressed brow at her father. He could practically hear her thoughts finishing the sentence. And so are you.
Dagda bowed his head, his crown heavy upon it. “Yes,” he agreed quietly. “They are. But…they hold power, dear. A King alone does not make a Kingdom, and neither does a Queen. They must have the support of their subjects, of their Council. And these nobles make up the Council, hold rank in Court!”
He looked at his youngest, and his words were low and urgent. “The Court that Marianne will one day rule. And she’s choosing to rule with a Goblin by her side. How – how stable will her reign be if she does that?” His voice cracked as he continued on, fear coursing through him. “How safe will she be? They’ll deride her, mock her –“
“They already do, Dad,” Dawn said, her voice torn between frankness and pain. “People…people have always talked about Marianne, there’s always gonna be someone who will make fun of her –“
“This is different!” Dagda said, and he couldn’t keep the pleading tone out of his voice. “This could crumble the Kingdom -!”
“Or it will make it stronger,” Dawn said firmly, cutting him off. “Daddy, those nobles might be powerful, but they’re not all powerful! And I’m sorry, but they won’t be around forever!” At the look on her father’s face she gave a huge, gusty groan. “Oh my gosh, Daddy, I’m not saying that they’re done for or anything, but they’re the ones who are struggling with this! If you had been paying attention, Marianne’s diplomacy program is super popular with the young people in this Kingdom! They want to learn more about the Dark Forest, want to see where this goes! Marianne’s rule is gonna be for them!”
Dagda listened to her words with a distinct feeling of his head getting overstuffed, his thoughts thickening into a stodgy mess from an overload of information and emotions. Between the fierce emotions his dispute with Marianne had unleashed and the unnerving frankness of Dawn, Dagda was suddenly struck by the fact that he was utterly exhausted, beyond fatigued. I can’t take anymore that this night will bring.
His voice was frayed and pleading when he spoke. “Dawn, please –“
But as tired as Dagda felt, Dawn only seemed to burn all the more with passionate energy. “And you know what? What you said about Sunny was totally unfair, Daddy! He would be great on the Council! If you’re gonna say that he shouldn’t be on there because he was easily manipulated, well – you have no right to criticize him, because you were too! You both made the mistake of trusting Roland!”
She pushed herself away from the table and turned to face him, arms crossed and eyes slitted, her fair face thunderous. “So you’re gonna stop holding that against Sunny. You’re gonna stop thinking of Roland as a way for you to relive your glory days.” Dagda flinched at that, but Dawn continued on, her cheeks pink with emotion. “You’re gonna stop thinking that he and Marianne would have made a great couple just because they looked nice together, and you’re gonna stop thinking that he would have made her happy when he never even cared about her! You’re gonna stop thinking he would have made her a stronger ruler when they were never equals to begin with!
Dawn’s voice was getting louder, passionate with conviction. “He never respected her, never cared for her! He made her, the heir to the throne, feel like he was doing her a favor by being with her! He only saw her as a way to the crown!” Dawn’s cheeks were now scarlet, her eyes shining with tears, her voice loud and unbroken. “Bog respects her! Bog loves her! She’s a Princess and he looks at her like she’s a Queen! No - you know what? Bog looks at her and doesn’t see a crown or a Princess! He sees her!”
She stabbed a finger at him, and Dagda jumped back as if it were an actual weapon. “So you’re NOT gonna go after Marianne tonight! You’re gonna show her that you can accept her and Bog, that you can change, and you’re gonna start now!” Dawn drew herself up to her full height and glared at her father with all the venom she could muster. “You’re going to do what you should have done from the start, AND LISTEN TO MARIANNE!”
And with that, she stormed out of the room, stamping out the door, too enraged to even think about flying.
Dagda watched her go, his eyes wide and his hands shaky as he withdrew them from his ears. Dawn had always had a piercing voice when she wanted to use it…
He slowly slumped against the table in an inelegant sprawl he hadn’t done since he was young and untrained in Royal decorum. But now his body was like a stone, weighed down by everything that had occurred this evening…
Dawn’s voice, so normally sweet and pure, scorched with disappointment and sharp with condemning truth, echoed through him, her words chasing after each other -
“You’re gonna have to step up and be the King and the father you should have been –“
“I trusted her decision! – You didn’t. You didn’t listen to her. You didn’t trust her, and you didn’t respect her - ”
“Marianne’s right – she’s happy with who she is, happy with Bog, happy for the first time in ages, and you can’t accept it -
“You see him as a Goblin, first and foremost –“
“ – A sword at my throat – “
Cold, sickening regret and horror mixed with burning hot shame in the pit of his stomach, a nauseating brew that spread its poison to every inch of him -
A new voice joined the writhing mass of his thoughts, the warm alto a trembling croak, an agonized and bewildered plea -
“How could you? How could you say – after everything, after you saw what he tried to do to me – after – how could you?”
Dagda’s eyes closed and his head bowed as the sheer weight of his disgust and mortification settled over him. It had been years since he last properly flew, but now he felt condemned to the earth, barred from the freedom and openness that the skies offered –
Her warm openness, her vast heart, forever barred from him now, and it was all his fault –
And he deserved such banishment.
Oh god, Marianne, I am so sorry.
The mugginess of the evening was rendered null and void by the tumult of his thoughts. He felt both cold and clammy and scrubbed raw, Dawn’s words scraping over him with their brutal, unyielding honesty.
Such words had obviously been a long time coming to be delivered with such fearsome conviction by Dawn, of all people. His baby girl had always been flighty, he and Marianne had agreed, teasing her over it gently, fluttering in both her manner and her thoughts.
Or so he had thought…
I don’t know either of my daughters.
Dagda’s head sunk lower at that, further proof of how far he had fallen, how deeply he had failed his girls, his Kingdom –
Roland made her cry.
I made her run.
His exhale was thready with exhaustion and sharp with self-contempt. Dawn was right, right about everything -
Marianne…Marianne had always been happy and unique, but Dagda had only ever felt comfortable with the one. She was tough and tender, capable and clumsy, a thousand glorious contradictions, and he –
He had been thrown by it, the seeming clash of her personality. He hadn’t been able to accept all those sides, accept her. He had tried to make her change, conform to his ideals, ideals he was only just beginning to realize just how warped they were –
Quieting her passion, hushing her uniqueness, stifling everything that made her Marianne. And he had meant so well…
His love had been a well-intentioned vine, wrapping around her out of concern and affection only to choke her –
Dagda gave a miserable moan. He had loved her, but never understood her. He had tried to help her, but had hurt her. He had wanted her not to be alone, but had only made her feel all the more bereft, her pleas unheard and her pain unseen.
Willingly deaf, desperately blind. She tried to tell you from the start, and you dismissed her –
Dagda passed a hand over his face, his throat tight. He had loved his girls with all his soul, all his heart –
What is Love without acceptance? Without respect?
Dagda sighed, miserable and dejected. I don’t know. I don’t know anything now.
…No. That wasn’t true.
He knew that he had to make things right.
Dagda straightened up, his armor softly clanking, and pushed his crown up from where it had slid down his brow, and set his jaw determinedly.
He had done horrible harm to his already wounded daughter, to both his girls, had let comfort and privilege and security blind him and weaken his rule, his Kingdom.
He had put his trust in false, handsome faces, and harbored distrust for those whose only crime was to be different…
No more.
He had tried to tell himself that the way he had reacted and resisted Marianne and Bog’s relationship was natural for a father, easily excused.
But after spending all those days, all that time, hoping and praying that his eldest would give Love another chance, spending so many fruitless and frustrating hours wishing…
His reaction should have been joy when he saw the warm glow in her eyes, the soft thankful happiness of her smile as she had twined her fingers with the tall, dark and scaly Goblin…
Instead, Dagda had shielded his eyes in disgust. He now closed them in bone-deep shame.
A Goblin, as different from a Fairy as night was to day…
A Goblin who had been born to rule when he had not. A Goblin who was as savage as his realm demanded him to be. A Goblin who threatened both of his girls, only to save them, nearly sacrificing himself in the process.
A Goblin whose eyes had watched Marianne as though she held both the moon and sun under her skin, skies on her wings and starlight in her eyes…
A Goblin who made his precious girl happy, when for so long Dagda thought he would never see a true smile from her again…
A Goblin who loved his daughter, and whom his daughter loved.
Dagda sighed and straightened his spine. There. You’ve done it.
He knew it wasn’t so easy, that there was only so much that sternness and shame could do. He still had to make amends to Marianne and Dawn, Marianne especially. Dawn was right – it didn’t matter what had happened that long ago day. He should have never been so easily taken in by Roland, never trusted him over his own flesh and blood. A King shouldn’t be so easily swayed.
A father shouldn’t be so willingly blind…
Dagda sighed once more before standing up, walking over to the windows to stare into the vast darkness, the moon still only just climbing the sky…
The happy Marianne he used to know was gone, had been gone for a while now…
Instead, a new Marianne stood in her place, one who loved and trusted and opened herself to others despite the scars on her heart. One who was stronger and secure, relishing in who she was instead of attempting to hide it.
One who was happy in a way that Dagda wasn’t sure he would ever understand, but was now willing to try.
Marianne was happy, and he had been too wrapped up in self-centered nostalgia to see.
Dagda turned away from the window and made his way to the door, passing the still unconsumed food. His normally unquenchable appetite was demolished after the emotional devastation of the evening, but something else was growing all the more stronger.
The hour was too late to truly begin anything, though he was sure a sleepless night was ahead of him nonetheless. But a new day would dawn tomorrow, with new chances of redemption…
And new uncertainties born of the wounds from tonight.
There was no guarantee of what would happen after this, if his attempts to right his wrongs would even succeed.
And even if he did make things right, did open his blind eyes to the biases rooted in his Council and Kingdom and heart, did make promises to stop bullying Sunny, did start learning all the intricacies of Marianne’s diplomacy program and did extend a sincere hand to the Dark Forest, to the King who held his daughter’s heart…
There was no guarantee that Marianne would forgive him.
And though his soul quaked at the thought – he had only just got her back, only just realized how blinded he had been - Dagda would not be able to blame her.
He reached the door, extending a hand to open it before pausing, more words from the evening coming back to him.
“How – how can you forgive him for that, Dawn? How can Marianne?”
“Because I can, Daddy.”
Dagda shook his head, silently awed. Between Marianne’s fieriness and Dawn’s sheer grace of character, the memory of his departed Queen had never been stronger…
Stubbornness and the capacity for grudges came all too easily to him, a trait he had passed onto Marianne, for better or worse. It was a small wonder that biases had festered in his heart. He felt a great wave of overwhelming gratitude that as bull-headed as she got, Marianne’s character had never once carried such a stain…
Yet his girls had always been openhearted and willing to forgive, their warmth deep and instinctual. Now that he thought about it, it had been one of the things that had shocked him so with the Roland mis – affair, that Marianne, normally so trusting and willing to forgive, had been bitterly adamant in refusing him a second chance.
Before tonight, Dagda was positive that he could simply ask them for their forgiveness and they would just as simply grant it to him. It was what one did for family. Family you could trust…
But now…
Dagda breathed in deep and clutched the door handle desperately. Please let me be forgiven.
He heard her as clearly as if she was standing behind him, touching his shoulder in that familiar and dearly missed gesture of comfort. Be worthy of their forgiveness, Dagda. Be willing to listen.
Dagda’s breath caught in his throat. I’ll try. For you. For them.
It was all he could do. Perhaps he would succeed, perhaps he would fail. Between the darkness of the night and the turmoil in his heart, the path was not clear. There was no way of knowing what tomorrow would bring…
Dagda set his jaw and clenched his hands, throwing open the door and heading to his chambers to start a long night of pacing his balcony, scanning the skies for any sign of his daughter and consumed with guilt and worry.
But for now, walking down the hall, Dagda felt only the burn of determination. It would be a new dawn in more ways than one…
Whatever the outcome, however open Marianne’s heart would be…
