Deidre's Faerie Tale Ch. 04

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Okay so The History of Elves is boring. I'm talking dry…so dry it shouldn't come within fifty feet of an open flame…make that any direct sunlight, lest it spontaneously combust. Once we'd gotten back to the castle, I told Tolem to stand down; I'd spend the rest of the day in my room reading. I had the best of intentions, what better way to find out the bare bones of what I needed to know than by reading about the general history of elves?

After nodding off twice, I decided to put down the book o' boring and read the Origin of the Elvin Monarchy. Now, that's a page turner!

I was hooked even before I got to Merlin's contribution.

Turns out Arthur, yes the king, and his fellow round-table ruffians had a little secret that not even they knew. Decades before Arthur was born, Merlin predicted his coming. That crafty wizard wrote that the son of an elfin maiden would be orphaned and sacrificed to the humans for a just cause…namely, bringing them out of the dark ages! At the same time or there about, his elfin court would be orphaned and those babies would be given over to the humans also.

Then, it happened (which is where our history books pick up the tale). What our books don't say is that Arthur was born of elves from a family whose lineage goes back to the primordial ooze. Anyway, his father was unknown or at least not specified and his mother died during childbirth. Then, Merlin's prediction being what it was: the baby's ears were blunted (not like Method Man's version of blunted; when elves refer to being blunted, they mean one whose had the points of their ears surgically clipped in order to blend in with humans) and sent to an orphanage. Sure, little Arthur didn't get adopted into the best family, but in the end, he did what Merlin said he'd do. He pulled the sword from the stone, kicked some barbarian ass, and ruled Camelot. His lineage spawned the tightest-assed, bluest-blood in Europe. Besides, the some subsequent hemophilia, not too shabby for an orphan!

So after all the sword fighting, arrow-shooting, and catapult launching, the knights who didn't die in battle were told on their death beds by the magnificent Merlin himself of their birth origins. Kind of messed up, I think—oh, you're dying, well, I guess you should know that you're an elf!

It was somewhere after Camelot but before the battle of Trafalgar that I fell asleep. When Tolem banged on my door, I woke up, clutching the book to my chest.

"It's time for dinner, your highness," he called through the door.

"I told you not to call me that!" I practically shrieked. I don't usually take being waken up well. There was no answer from the other side, but I didn't hear his footsteps retreating either so I figured it was in my best interest to get my ass in gear before he knocked and hollered again.

I rushed into my bathroom to brush my teeth and hair. I was pleased at how well my hair behaved outside the humidity I'd grown up with. The black mass hung long and wavy down my back. There was no need to keep a ponytail holder around my wrist anymore. I felt like I could do a shampoo commercial. I didn't admire myself too long, though. I pulled on my flip-flops, ran a hand over my tank top and pulled open the bedroom door.

Tolem raised an eyebrow. "I see you've decided to dress for dinner," he said in way of a greeting.

"I'll have you know, these jeans are 7 For All Mankind! I got them at Goodwill, but the label is still in 'em!"

"So, sorry, I didn't realize," he said with a smirk and that accent that made what was in my jeans quiver. I gave him the once over. He had on a pair of black dress pants with a white button-up shirt, opened to show a hint of yummy blonde chest hair, and his long hair still damp and pulled back in a loose braid. He was definitely dressed for dinner.

"Should I go change?" I asked hesitantly.

"We haven't that kind of time," he informed me, "some of us would like to eat before morning."

"Hey, I take offense at that! I don't take that long to get ready."

He remained silent, but stopped leaning against the wall to stand up straight. "Of course, your highness."

"I told you—."

He held up a hand and then swept it toward the staircase. "We don't want to be late for dinner," he said, "after all; you have an announcement to make."

I stopped in my tracks. I'd forgotten all about the fact that I should probably tell my step mother and stepsister that I would in fact be taking that crown. Especially since Lyrik was still under the assumption that she would be queen in less than twenty-four hours. I turned back to look at Tolem. "How am I—what should I—Lyrik is gonna…"

He smiled at me, a rare occurrence, which made my heart rate increase exponentially even as I was on the brink of an anxiety attack. Not good.

"You'll do fine," he said with a nod. "The crown wasn't hers to begin with; you're just accepting what's rightfully yours."

I nodded. "You're right. I'm supposed to be queen anyway," I glanced at the stair case but didn't move toward it. "But just in case you put yourself right between Lyrik and me. I'm thinking you're gonna actually have to do some body guardin' tonight!"

He nodded and walked by me to head downstairs first.