consider: my monster fucking au but like the opposite kind of where Lo is a monster and Ree deadass on sight goes ‘I’m gonna fuck it’ and Ro just in the background yelling ‘NO!!!’
Rhysand is a control freak when it comes to those that he loves. Yes, he wants them to make their own decisions, but he also, genuinely believes that he knows best when it comes to their welfare.
So I saw this post about bridesmaids and best men a week or so ago and queued it up, but it wouldn’t leave my head. I had this image of a best man fencing with an evil spirit. It seemed epic enough to deserve a drawing or an epic poem.
So, I wrote a ballad. It’s not exactly what I wanted when I started it, being more comic and silly than epic and I didn’t even really get the sword fight in there, but I thought I’d post it anyway. Mainly to stop myself fiddling with it and to get it out of my head. It’s very long and doesn’t have a title, so if you think of one, feel free to put it in a reply or tag or message me.
It is a very special day,
A day of hope and joy,
The bride was dressed in all her best,
The groom, her special boy.
Outside the church a woman was,
Ancient and withered too,
She warned all those who crossed her path,
This day they would soon rue.
“Begone you hag”, the best man cried,
(The guests uneasy were)
“Today should be a happy day,
Our wrath you shall incur.”
“Upset,” she said, “is better than
What could occur instead,
You do not know what lurks out there,
That could soon see us dead.”
The bridesmaid laughed and shook her head,
“We don’t believe your lies,
As old and bitter as you are,
We won’t believe you’re wise.”
The woman gave a weary sigh,
“I know what you all say,
Believing only what you see,
And in the light of day.”
The groom was waiting in the church,
The doors were open wide,
The pews were packed with people full,
All waiting for the bride.
And in the shadows, something lurked,
Awaiting for his chance,
The last chance he would ever have,
To take her for a dance.
The bride and maids were dressed in white,
The priest was waiting too,
The wedding bells would soon ring out,
Ready to say I do?
The women walked in through the gate,
And into the churchyard,
It was the bride’s most special day,
She was not on her guard.
They’d barely started down the path,
They were not near the door,
When icy hands reached out and grasped,
The bridesmaid, there no more.
She screamed out loud as she was dragged,
Across the graves and mud,
She could not run, nor could she fight,
The grip that drew her blood.
The “man” was tall and he was pale,
The colour of old bone,
He held her close against his side,
As harsh and cold as stone.
“I have you now,” he cried, no, laughed,
One hand drew back her veil,
He snarled when he revealed her face,
“What is this dark betrayal?”
The woman there was not the bride,
But one of her two maids,
The decoys there to keep her safe,
And to help her tie her braids.
The monster threw the girl aside,
And reached again his hand,
He grabbed another dressed in white,
But not the one he planned.
The second maid spat in his face,
“You’ll never get her now,
Inside the church, she’s nice and safe!”
“And that will stop me how?”
He dropped the maid upon her friend,
And sauntered through the yard,
He walked along the crooked path,
But the big church doors were barred.
The best man, with his sharp sword drawn,
Stood in the creature’s path,
“You stop right there, you won’t get by,”
The creature had to laugh.
(It is the best man’s job you see,
To fight those who object,
Even foul creatures from beyond,
This marriage he’ll protect).
“You think you have a choice, my boy?
You think you can stop me?
I’ve ripped out hearts of better men,
I’ll eat you for my tea.
I’ve travelled long and travelled far,
From on the other side,
There is one here who I shall have,
Give me the blushing bride.”
The best man said, “you won’t get passed-“
He was knocked to the ground,
The creature stepped over the man,
(and neither made a sound).
The guests all cowered in the church,
The doors were open wide,
The pews were packed with fearful folk,
But where oh where’s the bride?
The creature stalked along the aisle,
Ignoring all the screams,
Where was the woman all in white,
The woman of his dreams?
The old priest stepped to bar the way,
The church was his domain,
“You have no business, creature, here,”
His voice cracked with the strain.
“I am not some petty spirit,
It’s not some petty game,
Bow down your head and stand aside,
And let me at the dame.”
The creature sauntered down the aisle,
The guests all shook in fear,
It was not good, it was not right,
To see the creature here.
The groom hid behind the altar,
He loved his bride to be,
He did not fight, he was not strong,
But his one true love was she.
The creature raised his sharp clawed hands,
And snarled and hissed and groaned,
He loomed over the humans there,
Whilst they all shook and moaned.
The bride she knew just what he was,
She’d seen him oft before,
And turned him down so many times,
She’d turn him down once more.
She was hidden from the creature,
Was hidden from his wrath,
Then she, with shaking hands, stepped out,
Into the middle of his path.
“I was never yours, foul creature,
I always told you no,
And you show up at my wedding?
You know where you can go!”
“You are,” he said, “the one I love,
I cannot let you go,
You have to see your vast mistake,
I know I’ve told you so.”
“So what if he’s not a hero?
Or magical like you?
He is kind and he is gentle,
I know he loves me too.”
The groom stepped up with shaking hands,
And stood at her left side,
“So I don’t know how to stop you,
I know I love my bride.”
“Then is that your final answer?
For me to fade away?
After all I would have given,
You will so rue this day.”
The old woman (you remember,
The one who sat outside),
She laughed and laughed and said to him,
“She will not be your bride.”
“This one,” she said, “is truly brave,
With true love too, I’d say,
So begone you wretched creature,
Give her her happy day.”
The creature frowned and stamped one foot,
Arms folded on his chest,
He pouted like a little child,
A spoiled brat, I attest.
“But I do so truly love her,
You just don’t understand,
The pain that I feel deep inside,
To see her take his hand.”
“You’ve loved before, you’ll love again,”
The withered woman said,
“Remember you live far longer,
You’ll blink and she’ll be dead.”
“What business is it then, of yours?”
The creature growled and hissed,
“A petty, jealous, ancient hag,
You surely won’t be missed.”
The creature raised his sharpened claws,
(the guests all gave a cry),
The hag stood tall and bared her throat,
“Go on, give it a try.”
“Onc, years ago, I went with you,
You ate up all my youth,
And now you’re back to try again,
Your love is never truth.
You take us far away from here,
Into some fairy glen,
Your interest soon it fades away,
Just like all other men.
The bride she is still young and strong,
Smarter, she is, than me,
And she is true and she’s in love,
So you just leave her be.”
“So you think that you can stop me,
Old woman that you are?
You’ve seen my powers and my land,
You’re bones I will soon char!”
“You may have gotten bored of me,”
The elder woman smiled,
“Your sister, on the other hand…
You’d better leave this child.”
The creature flinched and shook his head,
“You’re lying to me,” he cried,
“My sister would not get involved,”
“I’m confused,” said the bride.
“For all these months you have wooed me,
Despite my clear said no,
You said I was your one true love,
But her too, is that so?”
“You know to me she’s nothing,
You are the one I need,
Come with me and belong to me,
Or else I’ll see you bleed.”
“Oh no you won’t,” a voice rang out,
(A bright and warming sound)
“Little brother, what have you done?”
A second creature frowned.
She’s terrible but gorgeous too,
She stalked the crowded aisle,
“Mabel,” she said, “are you quite well?”
(Old woman gave a smile)
“Oh brother mine, what have you done?
You know that no means no,
I’m taking you back to our home,
Say sorry now, let’s go.”
“Sister you cannot understand,
It is true love this time!”
The bride cried out, strong and loud,
“I don’t love you, you slime!”
“You’ve heard it from the girl’s own mouth,
You’re not her one true love,
You need to leave now, come with me,
You too, Mabel, my dove.”
“I will not leave, I will not go!”
“Don’t make me get our dad!”
The creature flinched and quickly said,
“I’m sorry, don’t be mad!”
With that both creatures took their leave,
(and Mabel too, of course,)
And journeyed back to their home land,
By puff of smoke, not horse.
And as for those left in the church,
All of them gathered near,
They had one question left to ask:
“So what just happened here?”
The bride and groom, well, they were wed,
It really was true love,
As for the bridesmaids and best man,
None hurt, thank stars above.
The moral then, of this long tale,
It does not matter much,
It is a story told in fun,
And should be seen as such.
Hey, if you enjoyed this story, you can read more of my writing here.
I felt like I'd left the 'pen' for quite a while. Drabble time, here we go. Mlem.
She'd given it much thought, let her brain chew on it, mused on for minutes on end, yet she still doesn't have a coherent answer.
Perhaps it's how those insanely pitch black tresses waterfall over his shoulders and onto the chestnut desk when he's hunched over, his nimble fingers curating a strange inky script on parchment. Damn, his hair. He'd don it like a cloak made of the night sky one day, exquisitely uniform and tame, or he'd wake up with a more voluptuous, rebellious mane that made him seem spikier on others. But it's never not perfect, she's deduced.
Maybe his skin. Impossibly matte skin, never to have met the slick of oil even once. She thinks it glows at times, like when there's a layer of luminescent ectoplasm swirling under ivory. Or like when he was standing by the window and the smoky sky let its soft, ashy glow lay upon his visage - he looked unearthly, spectre-like almost.
