If the disguised Dark Fairy laughed he didn't show it, his expression one of courteous neutrality as the Knight was led away. And there was truly no reason to do so as the pair in the center of the ballroom made a picture-perfect couple, bright and dazzling as they spun and flowed in the courtly steps of the dances that populated fairy tales and dreams.
He would have been content to watch, remembering his first meeting with Maeve with a pang in his chest, but the book spun time out of its usual course once more. He found himself drifting back to his baroness, bringing her the drink that had been promised and taking up position at the side of her chair placed near the royal dais.
Conveniently so.
As time slowed again and the music ended he saw the clock ready to strike midnight and drew a breath to prepare himself. It was all he could do before the gong began to ring and the magic rose in a conflicted flurry around the princess. He watched, mind turning over the possibilities as he stretched for his merfolk magic and found it missing--
But the Knight's cry pulled him back into the tale and he grabbed the walking stick from the baroness's sleep-limp hand. The ornate stick transformed in an instant into his tall, dark staff, and he slammed its steel-shod tip into the tiles of the floor as his disguise fell away, revealing the Dark Fairy in his full fluttering robes and thematic headpiece.
And the magic that engulfed the princess - dark and light both - rose from her in a reluctant cloud of starmotes and shadow, swirling in eternal combat as they were pulled from her body to float above her head, wavering. Sweat beaded on the Dark Fairy's brow as he bent his considerable will against both the curses and the blessings, fighting against their desire to return to their host. "I cannot hold it," he grated to the Knight, the strain evident in his voice. "It must go somewhere!"
But there were only four people still awake within the ballroom: The Dark Fairy, the Knight with her magic sword, the princess, standing beneath the magic that had shaped her entire life...
And the Queen, who stood slowly from her throne beside her sleeping husband and stretched out her hand...
He would have been content to watch, remembering his first meeting with Maeve with a pang in his chest, but the book spun time out of its usual course once more. He found himself drifting back to his baroness, bringing her the drink that had been promised and taking up position at the side of her chair placed near the royal dais.
Conveniently so.
As time slowed again and the music ended he saw the clock ready to strike midnight and drew a breath to prepare himself. It was all he could do before the gong began to ring and the magic rose in a conflicted flurry around the princess. He watched, mind turning over the possibilities as he stretched for his merfolk magic and found it missing--
But the Knight's cry pulled him back into the tale and he grabbed the walking stick from the baroness's sleep-limp hand. The ornate stick transformed in an instant into his tall, dark staff, and he slammed its steel-shod tip into the tiles of the floor as his disguise fell away, revealing the Dark Fairy in his full fluttering robes and thematic headpiece.
And the magic that engulfed the princess - dark and light both - rose from her in a reluctant cloud of starmotes and shadow, swirling in eternal combat as they were pulled from her body to float above her head, wavering. Sweat beaded on the Dark Fairy's brow as he bent his considerable will against both the curses and the blessings, fighting against their desire to return to their host. "I cannot hold it," he grated to the Knight, the strain evident in his voice. "It must go somewhere!"
But there were only four people still awake within the ballroom: The Dark Fairy, the Knight with her magic sword, the princess, standing beneath the magic that had shaped her entire life...
And the Queen, who stood slowly from her throne beside her sleeping husband and stretched out her hand...
