Thistle had thought about texting Wendy that he needed to speak with her, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to give her any reason to avoid him. Even if he said it was urgent, it wouldn’t make a difference.
It was urgent, however.
He felt the itch under his skin greater than ever now to break their engagement so that they could both go their own ways. It was clear that his grandmother was not going to be as patient as he had first thought. Thistle had been content to stay in Swynlake for a few years, if necessary, biding his time.
Now, he saw that was foolish. The Darlings had always been a greater prize to the queen than Thistle understood. Nimble’s presence, however, made it perfectly clear, as Thistle assumed he was designed to do.
He slunk into the Court in the middle of the night. Someone beautiful crooning on the stage. The lights were low. Thistle had not come to the Court since he’d first announced his presence to Wendy. Mostly because he didn’t want to give her an excuse to tell anyone about him, but also because he knew that giving her space was the best way to get her to eventually cooperate with whatever plan to undo their engagement.
Once he got to the counter, he waited for Wendy to notice him before gesturing slightly by tilting his head. He didn’t want to make a show of coming here to see her, in case anyone was watching, but she would know what it meant. They had perfected such silent communication as it was the only way to survive in the High Court.
In which Wendy arrives in the Fenlands for the first time...[takes place mid-2016]
@my-lost-darling
[cw -- references to torture, violence, servitude]
THISTLE:
Thistle was glad to be putting the High Court behind them. Even if they were tailed by another carriage now, full with Wendy and her things (including a maidservant or two that the queen had sent along as “engagement presents”. No doubt they were spies. You did not have to be subtle when no one dare defy you). Even with this extra baggage, Thistle would not look back.
The last two months had been excuse after excuse to keep Wendy and Thistle in the High Court. Gifts that needed to be given and dinners that needed to be attended. Parties to make appearances at and envoys to greet with the news. It had been a whirlwind. The worst part of which was that Wendy and Thistle had not had a moment alone. It was true, that if Thistle had tried, he could have arranged something but he found himself avoiding her. His mind was still on somehow getting out of this mess. Surely, there was a way. One that did not involve giving their True Names. The queen couldn’t seriously think that they would wed, which meant she must anticipate the alternative, which meant there was an alternative.
The only problem was that while in the High Court, Thistle could not ask his questions. He did not want his grandmother knowing she had won so easily. This was part of the reason he was happy to be going home.
The other reason was, of course, that it was home. In the Fenlands, the dynamic shifted. Thistle was not the pawn, but Crown Prince Thistle. He was respected, at least by those who knew him well enough (and who were not his siblings.) Many of the fae in the Fenlands were not entirely reviled by his halfling status. Plenty of fae were half-themselves and those beneath the fae were treated the same as he was within the High Fae. There was a commonality there he quite liked to capitalize on, when it suited him.
The road to the Fenlands started out bright, but one knew when they crossed the border as the wheels of their carriages began to sink into the mud of the drylands. The stench of rotting foliage was sweet and familiar to Thistle’s nose. At the edge of the drylands, as they crossed into the Marsh, they dismounted at the stable there, returning the swamp stags to their rightful place and continuing in the long, thin boats that navigated them through the dark waters. At the front of each boat was an illuminated purple lamp, signaling to those around them that they should yield to the royal caravan.
It was a long, quiet, dark journey. Thistle enjoyed it, relaxing back against the side of the boat, trailing his fingers in the cool water. Once or twice, he threw a pebble at this flower or that algae so that it would pulse bright colors before returning to its dark hue.
The castle came into view through a curtain of moss. It was almost camouflaged through the gnarled trees, the whole building ancient and covered in green and brown moss and algae. There was hardly any stone that protruded and the glowing lights through the windows looked almost as if it was simply glowing like the rest of the foliage.
When the boats docked, Thistle helped Wendy from her boat. New arrivals to the Fenlands were often sick. One of her maids looked rather pale. Wendy seemed just the same as always.
They walked through the familiar, winding, dark hallways, less damp than one would expect and surprisingly cool, despite the oppressive humidity outside. When they reached the East wing, Thistle opened the door and stood back.
“These are your rooms.” He looked over at her maids and then back at her. “The castle has been made aware of your arrival. You should find a closet full of clothes and a bath already drawn. Change and someone will fetch you to meet me in the library.” The Fenlands castle’s servants were mostly goblins, with large dark eyes who came up to most people’s hips and skin like toads.
“Don’t be late, for dinner is after.”
WENDY:
Wendy was leaving the High Court, not in the way that she wanted but still in a way she had never suspected. At first Wendy thought the Queen would just keep Wendy and Thistle at the High Court, under her control and for a while the brief hope that was leaving the High Court vanished.
Thistle avoided her and the Queen held tight with excuse after excuse.
The thin bloom of hope had faded within the first week.
Yet eventually they all set off, and while the carriage was comfortable the journey was long, and uncomfortable. The Queen wouldn’t send Wendy off in anything less than a dress that glittered even in the darkness of the fenlands and she couldn’t tear the material with her servants and spies right here. Either way she still needed to appear under her control.
The smell caused Wendy’s nose to twitch and although the maids weren’t familiar with it they giggled at the human facing the fenlands for the first time, at the way she squinted and tried to adjust to the light, the way she looked concerned when it felt like they would get stuck in the mud and giggled as she stepped out of the carriage with her heavy dress and tired legs.
Getting situated in the boats was another task tucking the skirts of her dress so she fit though Wendy knew if this boat tipped there would be no rescue for her. The weight alone would drag her down and she wondered if Thistle might think the same, it would be an accident and the engagement would be over. The Queen could only be so mad about that.
Her fear however was forgotten as she let her eyes trail from everything, though her skin felt damp and the air harder to breathe there was a light that Wendy had forgotten. How curious she had been, the stories she used to tell, of made up worlds and lands you could only imagine. She felt like she was in one of those now. The Castle, unlike the one in the High Court that was covered in silvers and golds, glittered from the sun and everything looked manicured as if placed there by choice. There was nothing wild about the High Court, but the Fenlands, the castle looked to have grown with the moss and the trees. Standing tall and forcing itself within the land. The boat ride did not feel long enough to admire all that was new to her.
At first she hadn’t noticed Thistle’s hand but when she did she let her gaze drift back to him and accepted his help out of the boat trekking carefully to the castle just in case her heels were to sink into anything.
She didn’t know what to expect, what cage she wandered into when he provided her rooms and a closet but it was more than she expected. Yet her maids were still with her, arguing while she relaxed into a bath, long enough to get the sweat and grime off her body, but not long enough to be late.
It was only when she got dressed she realized why they were arguing. All the dresses in the closet weren’t anything the maids in the High Court would give her, not just in the colour palette but they were lighter, they flowed with her. They weren’t meant to drag her down and slowly the thin bloom of hope blossomed again. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as the High Court.
It wasn’t long after her hair was done that the Castle's servants guided her toward the library and Wendy followed without hesitation although with every window they passed she found herself glancing out to see as much as she could.
Eventually she was shown to the Library and the double doors closed behind her and Wendy swore her heart would beat out of her chest. Wendy didn’t want to make eye contact with Thistle but she wouldn’t fall now. This is what would set the entire tone for how she lived here.
“Prince Thistle.” Wendy greeted stepping in closer to him.
THISTLE:
The truth of the matter was, now that Wendy was here, Thistle wasn’t sure what to do with her.
It wasn’t like they knew each other well. They had had a few moments together. Enough for the queen to get her ideas, but not enough for him to actually know her. Not that anyone actually knew each other in Elfhame. It was not like the mortal world, where everyone was so frustratingly authentic. (Even those who thought they were not.)
Now that she was actually here, that dilemma only became more pronounced. Especially as his sister sneered and his father looked on with a disapproving expression. He knew that if they had it their way, Wendy would meet with a “happy accident” and the only thing keeping this from being the case was the queen’s wrath that they would face if they got in the way of her little game.
Something about that unsettled Thistle. He knew that the other fae poked at him for being half human. That he was seen as weak for it. And, perhaps, he was. He saw how they were treated in Elfhame, at the High Court, and though he often felt superior to them...he did not believe they deserved such punishments. He had seen them in their own world, lived among them. Wendy had done nothing but be talented and defiant.
These thoughts swirled in his head as he looked out the window into the dark marsh beyond. Nothing moved but the slightly pulsating mushrooms reflecting in the window. The library was lit in a low blue light, casting shadows along the floor. In the Fenlands, it was often hard to tell the time of day. They kept track by using the foliage outside. If the luminescent mushrooms were awake, it was nearing evening.
The door creaked open, Thistle seeing the reflection of it’s tall form in the window. He turned as Wendy entered, moving to greet her.
“Lady Wendy,” he greeted her with a dip of his head. The title was new and it felt strange on his tongue, but it was some protection that he could give her. After all, as his fiancee she was now part of the courts of the Fenlands. He met her eyes with his own black ones.
“Do you find your quarters to your liking?”
WENDY:
Lady Wendy. It was not a title that fit her. Even engaged to a Prince, Wendy was lessor, she was not meant to have a title. She was not meant to have any power. (not that she did). Wendy wasn’t meant to have any freedom. The title was just something that would tie her down once more.
Wendy just needed to figure out what rules and limitations Thistle would put on her. How far was her leash and how many people here did she have to worry about. She would need to learn schedules, and who might be willing to sneak her food. Where she might sit and dream for a little bit, and if she could steal moments of fake freedom.
Wendy needed to learn and she needed to learn quick.
As kind as her dress was and her body thanked whoever was responsible for the shift in wardrobe, she couldn’t put much stock in it. Would she be a performer again, another bird in a cage? There were too many factors to consider at the moment.
“They are lovely, the fenlands are spectacular and to have a view is magnificent. As you said the closet was filled and the outfits fit for the High Court.” But so much better. So much more comfortable. “I did not think the wildlife would glow as much as it does.” Wendy offered as a conversation point her eyes drifting to the windows again.
THISTLE:
Thistle was not immune to flattery. And while he held little love for certain parts of Elfhame (the High Court certainly being one of them), he did love the Fenlands. He had a certain type of pride, the same that many High Fae felt. All of them, of course, believed that their lands were the best. And, of course, they were all wrong, because there was nothing like the magical wilds of the Fenlands. So, he could not help but smile, a bit pleased that Wendy liked them. After all, she could not lie.
He was glad to see her in something that wasn’t the horrible contraptions that the queen put her in. She already looked more free, with her shackles cut off. It was not that simple. Even Thistle had his shackles, as invisible as they were. (And some were not so invisible, like the pendants on both their breasts.) Still, although he did not quite hold affection for Wendy, he did not wish to see her suffer. And if their engagement provided her some protection, he was pleased to give it. If only to irritate his brothers, sisters, and grandmother.
His head turned to follow her gaze out the window. “Yes, those are Given mushrooms,” Thistle told her. “They provide the light that you see in the rooms here and just about anywhere you go in the Fenlands. Without the bioluminescent plants and animals here, you would not be able to see well at all. The canopy makes it impossibly dark,” he explained. It was not something he would tell just anyone, but if she was to be a Lady of this land, she should know how it worked. And there was a reverence in his voice, the same that all Fenners held for their semi-aquatic home. A gratefulness to all the plants and creatures.
“I must warn you that Fenners hold the flora and fauna here to the highest of honors. You would do well not to tread on any plant, or hurt any of the creatures here. They will be expecting you to make this mistake.” It was kinder advice than she had probably expected, but her conduct would reflect on him, and therefore, it was selfishly given.
WENDY:
Information was not given lightly and it was not something that Wendy would take lightly. Thistle could let her flounder, to anger the people of the fenlands so much her life was made a living hell. He could and he wouldn’t benefit but he wouldn’t not benefit.
So she would take it. For now knowledge was power.
The good thing while the High Court was more stone steps and marble arches than animals, nature was still revered. And Wendy knew enough to not disrespect it.
“I will take care to not insult your people.” And she would, this would be her home for now and she needed to be as safe as she could.
“Will I be allowed to access the Library? To learn more about the Fenlands.” The very thought of that was exciting. To learn and be allowed to learn more. But maybe she would never be allowed in here again, Not without Thistle at least.
THISTLE:
An expression passed over Thistle’s face that not even he could necessarily identify, as it went with an uncomfortable, unfamiliar squeezing in his chest. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, his lips twitching down. He realized that Wendy had no idea what had just happened to her. What it meant to be engaged to the Crown Prince of the seat of Shadowmoss, Prince of the Stag, Lord of the Fenlands.
What was worse: he was going to have to explain it to her.
“Of course,” he said and then turned on his heel slightly to gesture at an ornate, leather chair. “Sit.” He took the one across from her, putting his elbows on his knees. It was not a proper way for a prince to sit, but in the Fenlands, he could relax. There was a certain amount of impropriety allowed at the High Court, but Thistle never participated. His cousins teased him for being too stiff, too proper (well, besides Nimble, who made stiff and proper personality traits), but Thistle knew he was held to a different standard.
Here, in the Fenlands, though--he was safe. This was his home. He was the one who set the precedent.
“You have free run of the castle and grounds, within reason,” Thistle told her. “You are my fiancée, not a servant. Not here. You will have duties, appearances to maintain and events to participate in, but otherwise, your time is your own.”
WENDY:
Wendy sat as indicated, properly, her feet crossed at the ankle even if Thistle was more informal than she had seen them. Of course it was just them and he had no reason to put on an air of superiority. He was superior to her at the moment. With or without the bells and whistles.
Her only lifeline at the moment.
But even then, with his inability to lie, his words felt as such. To have free run of the castle and grounds (within reason) was more than expected. It felt too good to be true. Perhaps she was locked up in solitary once more and dreaming of a way out. The only way out that she could see. Even as twisted as it was.
“I will do my best in those capacities.” Wendy nodded because what else could she say. She couldn’t say thank you though this was already benefiting her.
THISTLE:
“You better.” This was less of a warning and more advice, but if she took it one way over another, that was her business.
Thistle tried not to fidget. The whole conversation was awkward, the whole situation was awkward. They were to be married. The rest of their lives spent together. Or, well, the rest of Wendy’s life, anyway, which was longer than many in Elfhame might think. Several decades if she managed to survive that long, which she would, most likely, protected as a member of the royal family. Though, Thistle had the distinct feeling that the queen was not expecting things to get to that point.
Which was all the more reason to ensure that it happened. Thistle had been so intent on beating his grandmother at her own game that he had forgotten the stakes until they were staring them in the face with two wary, but defiant green eyes.
Honestly, now that they were here and Thistle had time to think, to put his guard down, he realized: he did not know what to do with a fiancée. With Wendy.
“Do you have any other questions?” Thistle asked after a moment, easily concealing this discomfort as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over another.
WENDY:
Unlike Thistle, Wendy wasn’t worried about trying not to fidget. This wasn’t much different than being under the gaze of the Queen. Under the gaze of everyone. There wasn’t ever a second she could relax.
As much as Wendy would hate to admit it, she was at a disadvantage, her mind while trained to think the same way, they all have years, decades over her.
So even if there were many questions Wendy could ask, she could ask what he wanted, she could ask about everything about this land. She could be foolish and ask if she could actually ask people to do things for her. Which even if she could she wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be wise to act like she was in charge of anyone. She wouldn’t be asking anything else.
In the end there were still the maid servants that were sent with her that would continue to be spies and Thistle would be wise to keep her on a short leash for his own sake.
“At the moment, there’s nothing else to ask.” Wendy was too scared to ask too much, to push Thistle too far when she already had more than she could hope for. She would stay out of his way and maybe they would both survive this.
THISTLE:
Thistle regarded Wendy for a moment. He knew that she probably had plenty more to ask. He could sympathize, in a way, with her experience. For he too had been taken from his home in the mortal realm and brought to Elfhame. It was different, of course, he had not been a prisoner or a pet, but he had certainly felt like one at first. He did not know the customs. He stood out like a sore thumb, rarely getting help from any around him. There had been a few that took pity on him. Who taught him what he needed to know, but for the most part, he learned through trial and error. It had been survival.
What he could offer Wendy was better than that, because Thistle had been living here for almost a hundred years now. He knew the customs. He was respected here in the Fenlands, if not anywhere else.
And he was surprised to find that he wanted to help her.
He could convince himself this was because any faux pas she committed would reflect poorly on him. That having an incompetent fiancee would make him even more of a laughing stock at court than he already was. And that would be partially the truth. The rest of it would be that he did not want Wendy hurt. He was not fond of her, but he had nothing against her. She was as caught up in the spokes of the wheels of their fate as he was. And, maybe, if they played their hand right. If they worked with each other, instead of against one another, they could beat the queen at her own game.
That meant, however, that Wendy was going to need to trust him.
He waited until she met his gaze and then he spoke. “I suppose I should make myself clear while we have a moment to do so: here, in the Fenlands, I am the Crown Prince. The dynamics are different than at court. I have more power here than anywhere else in the Fenlands. I could do whatever I wish to you, sans killing you.” He let that hang in the air a moment, so that it would properly contrast what he was going to say next.
“I do not intend to harm you. I do not intend to let anyone else harm you. You are under my protection now. I will take that very seriously. I hope that you do as well. Do not fear me.”
WENDY:
There it was.
Wendy might have more freedom here. She might be allowed to read and learn. She might be allowed to act the part of a lady. But she was still under his thumb, at his will and at his mercy. Thistle may not be allowed to kill her but that didn’t mean much. People could do a great many things without killing you.
Wendy already knew that fact intimately.
Thistle’s next words barely felt true, she looked for the hidden meaning the hidden threat. He may not intend to harm her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. But being under the protection of a Crown Prince was not to take lightly. If she was under his protection she was safe from most others. As long as she didn’t outright devastating. No one could protect her then.
Searching his face, Wendy tried to understand even as fear coursed through her. She couldn’t trust Thistle. She knew that much. But she might have to put her life in his hands. “I have been at the mercy of many Fae and of many cruel jokes.” The promise of Thistle being someone she did not have to fear was not something Wendy could trust. “However, I will do my best to not create any strain on you while I reside here.” No need for his protection, no need for him to hurt her. Wendy needed to be perfect, who knew how many more scars could be added.
THISTLE:
Thistle sighed and leaned back in his chair. It was clear that Wendy didn’t trust him. Which was annoying. And annoying that it was annoying. After all, why should she trust him? He had never really done much to warrant being trustworthy. In Elfhame, no one was trustworthy. Every single being was out for itself. That was one of the first lessons you learned.
That didn’t mean there wasn’t a part of Thistle that wanted Wendy to trust him. This would be easier if she did, but Thistle also was not a patient man. If she wanted to be distrustful, fine. It would only make things more complicated for her. Wasn’t his problem.
“Kind of you,” he said with a little scoff, his hand came up to his mouth and he pressed his lips against his finger as he looked out the window again with a little sigh. At least, despite her insistence to the contrary, he could keep her safe here. For now, that was all that mattered while he gathered a plan for retaliation on the queen.
“Dinner will be soon,” he told her, standing in one fluid movement. “Someone will be along to fetch you. If you take a book back to your rooms, make sure to sign it out on the ledger or Leabharchoimeádaí will be cross with you and they, I cannot protect you from.” His lip twitched into a smirk before he nodded at her and left the room.
He just wanted to say hello, was all. At least for right now. There was only two ways that this ended:
Wendy came home with him, as his bride. Or they found a way to annul their engagement. Really, they were on the same side, weren’t they? Neither of them wished to be tied to the other. It was, if nothing else, a massive inconvenience.
It was laughably easy, at the end of the day. There were two places that he assumed she would be: either of the clubs. They were the closest thing in this world to the fae world, full of hedonism and debauchery. Wendy may detest such things, but it was all she knew.
And there she was, amongst the alcohol and the music looking right at home. It was almost disappointing how easy it was.
He locked eyes with her before he even managed to slide into his seat at the bar. Thistle wore an easy smile, the tip of his tail waving lazily.
“Hello, lilybell,” he greeted her. “I would like a tequila sunrise, please.”
A Very Unhappy Unbirthday
Dreams Come True
Follow the White Rabbit
Off to Never-Wonderland
Down the Rabbit Hole…
Marriage is What Brings Us Together Today
Skunk, Fox, Raccoon
Return to Neverland
Return to Neverland [The Darlings + Thistle + Alice]
In which, after a series of psychological attacks on their loved ones, the Darlings, along with Thistle and Alice, formulate a plan...[takes place: early June]
A Very Unhappy Unbirthday
Dreams Come True
Follow the White Rabbit
Off to Never-Wonderland
Down the Rabbit Hole…
Marriage is What Brings Us Together Today
Skunk, Fox, Raccoon
there's something wretched about this
something so precious about this
where to begin?
@my-lost-darling
... ... ...
“Would you care to dance?” Everyone wanted a show? They might as well put one on.
“You’re not planning on getting us in trouble, are you?” he asked as he held out his hand for her and pulled her onto the dance floor, his other hand going to her waist.
“Trouble? I would never plan for trouble. I only wish to show off a little bit, my prince. Do you consider that getting us into trouble?"
“That depends on how much showing off we are doing, my lady.”
“Just enough that others are made jealous of us.”
“I see,” Thistle replied, amused and fond. “Try not to get dizzy."
Perhaps these things should not be, but Thistle didn’t mind. Falling in love in the High Court of Elfhame was a dangerous game, but no more dangerous than anything else one did amongst the fae.
“The trick is to focus on one still point as you spin. I think I’ll focus on you.”
”Good choice,” Thistle murmured.
“I thought so.” She felt safe trying to figure him out and it just pulled her in further. A dangerous thing as she was drawn into his space. Closer and closer.
“Would this create too much trouble for you?” Wendy questioned her eyes flicking down to his lips briefly.
“Not nearly enough,” he told her quietly. To him, in that moment, she was worth all that trouble and more. He dipped her backwards in the middle of the dance floor and kissed her.
excerpt from Hold Me in the Dark...
... ... ...
The Competition
In which Thistle and Wendy have their first proper meeting…[takes place in 2015…ish?]
What's in a Name?
In which the Queen, and the High Court of Elfhame, learn a secret about Wendy Darling…[takes place: early 2016]
The Caged Bird and the Prince
In which, after Wendy’s betrayal to the queen, Thistle visits her in her prison…[takes place: early 2016]
Til Death Do Us Part
In which, the Queen makes an arrangement for Wendy and Thistle’s futures…[takes place: early 2016]
Written in the Water
In which Wendy arrives in the Fenlands for the first time…[takes place mid-2016]
Hold Me in the Dark
In which Thistle and Wendy learn to cope with their circumstances…[takes place: all of 2017]
Don't Blame Me
In Wendy begins to get suspicious and all of their hard work starts to unravel…[takes place: early 2018]
On Thin Ice
In Wendy finds herself without Thistle’s protection and is spirited away to the Icelands…[takes place: late 2018]
Something Borrowed, Something Blue
In which Thistle and Wendy make preparations for their wedding…[takes place: throughout 2019]
Something Old, Something New
In which Thistle takes Wendy to London and things go horribly wrong…[takes place: a few weeks before John shows up in Elfhame (2019)]
