Although this fiction blog is illustrated with photos of dolls, and dollhouse miniatures, the language and content of the storyline is intended for an adult audience. Please be advised.
|She Who Was All makes herself at home|
Next to him, Beckett sat ramrod straight, his fingers intertwined in his lap, and his expression a blank palette. Say what you want about the man being a pompous bastard, you had to give the Sheriff credit for holding it all together during the absolute absurdity of events. Granted, Brian's first appearance had startled him, and if they hadn't removed his weapons while he was out cold, things may have gone badly. But he seemed to accept crazy things relatively quickly, though the two of them, fey and mortal, had forged a mutual dislike. And he couldn't imagine too many men being able to process the thought of an actual fairy, complete with wings, landing on their shoulder without questioning their sanity. All in all, his reactions were...well...quite Beckett like.
The tiny Queen downed the last drop from the cup, and nibbled the corner of a vanilla wafer, eyeing the three of them like produce in the market. She afforded Brian a brief nod, gave him the once over from top to bottom, and then settled in on his brother-in-law, narrowing her eyes and scrutinizing every inch as if she could see right through him. Beckett returned her stare, keeping eye contact longer than the priest thought humanly possible. Then, without warning, he winked at She Who Was All.
Beside him, Brian gasped, and he could feel his own mouth go dry. Her wings rippled, and the dish holding the last of the cookie flew off the fireplace, spraying Nilla Wafers in every direction. The corner of the china plate caught Beckett at the side of the temple, and though it left an angry red welt, the man offered no reaction. For a second, everything in the room froze, and Kevin saw any chance of retrieving Maureen disappear. Yet, in the strangeness of the day, She Who Was All surprised them all, laughing out loud, a sound like hundreds of tiny wind chimes on a summer afternoon.
"You do not disappoint, Croi Diamhair, though your arrogance blinds your true potential." With a raise of one finger, the plate and the cookies regathered, and once again found a spot on the mantle, while Fr. Kevin instantly found the tiny tea cup back in his hands. "I shall require more, Fear Seipeal Dearg."
He hurried to refill the cup with a few drops of Jameson, placing it carefully next to the cookies, keeping his eyes averted. She downed the contents in one gulp, then leaned back, her wings resting atop the heads of St. John and St. Andrew, dusting them with each flutter.
"You have called upon my assistance. Explain this."
From his spot on the ottoman, Brian gave him a poke to the leg. As planned, it was going to be up to him to ask for help in returning Maureen, and he opened his mouth, working to select the right words in accordance with Fey protocol. But he never got the chance, Beckett answering instead.
"My wife's gone missing, your Majesty. I want her back."
She Who Was All tossed her head, the golden red curls bouncing about her head like tiny bubbles. "Of course you do, Croi Diamhair. You are a mortal that wants much. It is important to you to 'have'. Why seek out the Fey? Are you not capable of finding what is yours?"
"Not in this case, your Majesty. She's lost in time. Those are bonds I am unable to break."
"That must anger you, Croi Diamhair. You have built a life on breaking rules to do as you wish, but in this instant, you can not retrieve what you hold dearest. It is out of your reach. Most pathetic, is it not?"
The muscles in Beckett's jaw tightened, but his voice remained neutral. "Yes, your Majesty. Pathetic, as well as sadly ironic."
She paused to reach for another cookie, and then raising a finger, pulled Beckett's chair closer to her. "It is most impossible, mortal. To breach the distance of time. The red haired lassie is in the throes of a powerful white spell I can not break. It is the way of things. To return, she must complete the circle." She pointed at Fr. Kevin. "He knows this. The watch is the key to unlocking the spell. Your lassie must use the key at the right door to make her way back. I can do nothing to change that." She rose, and stood on the ledge of the mantle. "And now I must be gone. Things of great importance to attend to." Her wings fluttered, and she was airborne.
Kevin could feel the panic rise in his throat. She Who Was All was their last chance in helping Maureen find her way back. Without her intercession, they would have to hope Mo would figure it on her own, a scenario that seemed doubtful. He looked first to Brian, who had sat silent the entire time, and who now had no suggestions to offer, and then to Beckett, who had left his chair and was standing directly in front of the Fairy Queen.
"Your Majesty, I don't believe you when you say there is nothing you can do."
The air in the room grew warmer, like someone had turned on the furnace in the middle of summer. "How dare you question me, Mortal! I owe you nothing."
"That is true. You owe me nothing. But I would be in your debt, Great One, in return for your assistance."
The words hung in the air, almost taking on solid form. To make such an offer to the Fey was a dangerous thing, and to someone of the Queen's unlimited power, a life changing moment. If accepted, Beckett's offer could not be undone, and She Who Was All would end up with the bigger reward. He tapped Ted on the shoulder, wondering if there was still time to back out, and secretly hoping the man would not.
"You need to know that a deal made with the Fey is rock solid. You can never renegotiate, and ya gotta know going in that she'll end up getting more than she gave. Think carefully about this, Ted. There's no going back."
"I don't need to think about it. I already made the offer. I stand by it."
The Fairy Queen raised another finger, and Kevin was thrown back into his chair. "Silence, Fear Seipeal Dearg! This is between the Croi Diamhair and myself." She returned her attention to Beckett, landing on his shoulder, and whispering in his ear. "You wish to arrange a deal, mortal?"
"Yes, your Majesty. I do."
"What is it you offer, Croi Diamhair?"
"I am a wealthy man, your Majesty. Money. Influence. I offer whatever you wish."
She laughed, the sound filling the room despite her diminutive size. "I have no use for your mortal trappings, Black Heart. Surely you can do better than that? After all, it is your dearest possession we negotiate for."
"Tell me then, your Majesty. What is it you want? Help me get my wife back, and it's yours."
She Who Was All rested against his neck, and stroked an ear lobe. "What you are asking is very difficult. To break the bonds of time and space, in human form, requires powerful magic. The dark kind in which much energy and sacrifice is required. It is no small thing."
"And your Majesty can do this?"
She pinched his ear lobe with her fingernails, hard enough to draw blood. "You doubt me, mortal? That is most unwise."
"No, my Queen. I believe you are quite capable of whatever it is you wish."
"True, true...more than capable. The question remains... do I wish to do it?"
"And do you, my Queen?"
"I do like the sound of that on your tongue, mortal. 'My Queen'. You are pretty man with pretty words, Croi Diamhair. Yes...I can arrange for you to rescue your dear one. But I will need something great in return for my help."
"Anything, your Majesty. Name it. What is it you wish?"
She leaned in, and licked the blood off his ear lobe. "Why...you still don't understand simple mortal? It's you I want. You are the trade."
|Making a deal with She Who Is All|
Copyright Victoria T. Rocus
All Rights Reserved