A Fairy-Tail Marriage

Rather than act properly chastised, Althea winked at her mother. “But I feel bad for the rest of the fairies, Mother. It’s not fair to them.”

Mariah chuckled quietly. “You’ve always been empathetic to the needs of others, Althea. Your best quality, actually.”

“Thank you, I guess,” Althea answered skeptically and returned her attention to her father. “Father, I don’t really understand how the werewolves could have killed fairies. I mean, we can fly, use magic, and change size at will. Why couldn’t the fairies have become giants and squeezed the werewolves until their heads popped?”

“I don’t know where she gets these violent tendencies,” Mariah muttered, looking at her husband with an arched eyebrow. As a child, Tristan had filled Althea’s head with the stories of wars between the fairies and werewolves. She had loved them, especially when he added the gory parts.

“I have no idea, dear,” Tristan replied with a wink at his daughter. “And Althea, there is a certain honor to be upheld when in battle. One does not use weapons the opponent does not possess. That would be dishonorable.”

“They have weapons we don’t! Those claws, those teeth, and their strength,” Althea reminded him, ticking off each weapon on her fingers.

“We can use our magic to change ourselves so that the fight is more equal, of course,” Tristan told her. “However, using magic against them while they are in werewolf form is a waste of energy. They are impervious to it.”

Althea snorted derisively. “We can fly,” she said defensively.

“Why are you asking these questions? You know all this, Althea,” Mariah reminded her gently.

“I know, I know,” Althea grumbled as she tossed herself in a large arm chair close to her mother. “At least we can even the odds by becoming tigers or something. Slash their throats with our claws.”

Tristan chuckled. “For someone who has never been in a fight of any kind, you certainly are fierce.”

Mariah laughed with him. “And really, Althea. Is that any way for a princess to speak?”

Althea rolled her eyes at her parents. “You two are kind of mean, you know that.”

“Yes, daughter, but we’ve raised you to be strong,” Mariah reminded her.

The joviality warmed Tristan’s heart, and he was loathe to end it with his next words. But end it he must. “I’ve decided to make the trip to the border to handle this issue myself.”

Mariah’s brush slowly lowered from the canvas as she turned to look at him. His daughter exploded out of the chair, her words out of her mouth, as he would have. “What? That’s ridiculous! You’re the king!”

“That’s exactly why I need to go.” He began to pace around the room again, his frown marring the gentle features of his face under his lengthy beard. “The tension between the fairies and the werewolves continues to grow. My presence, I hope, will help ease that, at least on our side.”

“What about those damn werewolves?” Althea hissed, throwing her arm out in the general direction of their castle.

“Language,” Mariah murmured, unperturbed. She did not feel it necessary to speak on the subject at hand; her daughter would make their position clear for her.

“Sorry, Mother,” Althea said automatically, her eyes not leaving her father. “Just because our people choose to be civilized does not mean those barbarians will behave. You could be in danger if you go.”

“Althea, you’re being ridiculous. I’ll take my guards with me.” Tristan smiled at her, then her mother, hoping to reassure them. Both women stared back at him. “I’ll be fine, my girls. You don’t have to worry.”

Mariah spoke up, her voice still quiet, though stronger than either her daughter’s or husband’s, who listened carefully when she spoke. “The only way either of us will feel better is if you take us with you.”

Tristan sputtered. Althea clapped her hands joyfully and said, “Yes! I’ve never been to the border. I’d love to see that part of our land.”

“That is a terrible idea. Who knows what the conditions will be where we’ll have to stay?” Tristan told them.

Mariah raised a finger. “You forget, dear husband, that I’m from that region. I know the perfect inn we could stay at. Good food, soft beds. It will be perfect.” She rose from her painting and gently laid the brush down.

“If you think it’s so dangerous for me, why do you assume the two of you will be safe?” Tristan shook his head. “No. The two of you will stay here.”

“We’ll have the guards to watch over us, just like you said.” She looked at Tristan, eyebrows raised in question. “Besides, your daughter, who you hope will take the throne in a few years, needs to see her kingdom.”

Althea could sense that her mother would win. She turned her face away so her father wouldn’t see the secret smile she exchanged with her mother and waited for his inevitable capitulation.

“The new king of the werewolves will be there, I’m told,” Mariah said suddenly.

Tristan stared at his wife. “How do you get your information? I only found out about the skirmish twenty minutes ago, the king’s visit a few minutes before I came in here!”

Again Althea smiled. Her mother, as quiet as she was, could be a formidable adversary. She somehow knew everything. Althea didn’t know where or how she got her information either; sometimes she wondered if her mother was a clairvoyant.

Mariah shrugged her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist. “Never mind, love. This journey is a good idea. We can discuss the idea of a treaty with the new king. Braxton, I believe his name is.”

Tristan looked down at her and kissed her forehead. “That is his name. You amaze me, my dear.”

Althea sidled up to his side and put her arms around both her parents. “You need us there, Father. We’re your best advisors.”

Tristan chuckled. “Your mother is, anyway,” he teased. Althea playfully narrowed her eyes at him, and he winked at her again. “Fine. You can both go.”

Althea clapped her hands. “Yay! I can’t wait to see the border. And this king. I’ve heard he’s not so hard on the eyes.”

“Oh really?” Mariah turned to her daughter. “I’ve heard nothing of the sort.”

“I, too, have informants, Mother,” Althea called as she walked out of the room. “I’m going to pack!”