"High King Eliot," the Fairy Queen said, from his damned throne. Eliot blinked a few times, having long learned how to keep his surprise and outrage on the inside when facing down a threat.
"Your Fairy Queenness. Can I help you with something?"
"You've been attempting to send rabbits to your High Queen."
Eliot lifted his chin. "I . . . may have tried to make contact, yes."
The Fairy Queen stared at him. Like all the other fairies, her eyes were all pupil, the blackness swallowing up her irises and most of her sclera. It was deeply disconcerting. Eliot knew better than to show that either.
He was just about to break down and speak first when she spoke.
"Have you received a reply?" she asked, nearly sounding impatient.
. . . Well now. That was interesting.
"Shouldn't you already know the answer to that?" he asked.
Eliot considered himself an excellent reader of people, especially those like himself, who liked to keep all their actual feelings on the inside where they belonged. The Fairy Queen was usually a mask of bland indifference, but he was sure he saw her actually frown.
"High Queen Margo is not in the fairy realm."
She wasn't on Earth. She wasn't trapped by fairies. Where the hell was she?
"I see," Eliot said carefully.
"None of our rabbits have returned intact."
Oh holy crap, did Eliot just get a bunch of poor bunnies eaten by the multiverse? "That's . . . concerning."
"Indeed." The Fairy Queen held up Margo's eye, examining it with care. "I'm afraid our other methods of contacting her have been unsuccessful as well." She looked up at Eliot sharply. "You cannot possibly succeed here as High King without her."
"Okay, rude," Eliot said, twitching his head to brush it off. It wasn't anything he hadn't been thinking about himself. "Can I ask . . . why do you care?"
"Your High Queen made a deal with me for your safety, the continuity of magic, and for the safety of Fillory itself." The Fairy Queen gave Eliot a long, piercing look. "Fairies always honor our deals."
"And you want something from Fillory," Eliot said. "You can't control it yourself; most Fillorians can't even see you. You need your puppet royalty."
Another long, silent stare. Eliot took that as confirmation.
"I believe we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement," she said at length.
"What do you propose?" Eliot tilted his head. "I should tell you right now I'm not really interested in trading my eyes or toes or . . . other bits. And I'm all out of unborn children."
Another stare. Then she beckoned him closer. Eliot hesitated only a moment, then strode over and sat down on Margo's throne. He wasn't going to keep being a petitioner in his own goddamn throne room, thanks.
He would like to say that they negotiated for hours, working out a precise deal that guaranteed that the fairies couldn't continue to fuck with Fillory. He'd absolutely love to say that he managed to get Fen their daughter back in the bargain. But in reality, the Fairy Queen's proposed deal wasn't one he could refuse.
Margo, it seemed, had fallen through a portal, and not one of the fairies' making. They suspected it was the work of Ember himself, who couldn't undo it since — well. He was dead. The fairies could locate and reopen the portal, but they couldn't step through. Some wibbly-wobbly fairy deal shit. They needed a willing human to go through for them.
And, well. Eliot was willing. Margo had saved him, any number of times, on every level. There was no world, no timeline in which he refused to do the same for her.
"Bring her back," the Fairy Queen said, "and your kingdom will not suffer."
"That's a very funny way of saying you'll restore the gold-shitting beetles and enchant us some central pivot sprinklers for irrigation," Eliot said, looking down at the crack in the ground Margo had apparently fallen into.
The Fairy Queen gave a faint nod. Eliot swallowed and nodded back. He pulled his flask from his pocket, took a sip, and tucked it away. Then took a deep breath, and leaped.
[NFB, NFI, OOC welcome. This one is all me. Eliot will be arriving in Fandom shortly!]
"Your Fairy Queenness. Can I help you with something?"
"You've been attempting to send rabbits to your High Queen."
Eliot lifted his chin. "I . . . may have tried to make contact, yes."
The Fairy Queen stared at him. Like all the other fairies, her eyes were all pupil, the blackness swallowing up her irises and most of her sclera. It was deeply disconcerting. Eliot knew better than to show that either.
He was just about to break down and speak first when she spoke.
"Have you received a reply?" she asked, nearly sounding impatient.
. . . Well now. That was interesting.
"Shouldn't you already know the answer to that?" he asked.
Eliot considered himself an excellent reader of people, especially those like himself, who liked to keep all their actual feelings on the inside where they belonged. The Fairy Queen was usually a mask of bland indifference, but he was sure he saw her actually frown.
"High Queen Margo is not in the fairy realm."
She wasn't on Earth. She wasn't trapped by fairies. Where the hell was she?
"I see," Eliot said carefully.
"None of our rabbits have returned intact."
Oh holy crap, did Eliot just get a bunch of poor bunnies eaten by the multiverse? "That's . . . concerning."
"Indeed." The Fairy Queen held up Margo's eye, examining it with care. "I'm afraid our other methods of contacting her have been unsuccessful as well." She looked up at Eliot sharply. "You cannot possibly succeed here as High King without her."
"Okay, rude," Eliot said, twitching his head to brush it off. It wasn't anything he hadn't been thinking about himself. "Can I ask . . . why do you care?"
"Your High Queen made a deal with me for your safety, the continuity of magic, and for the safety of Fillory itself." The Fairy Queen gave Eliot a long, piercing look. "Fairies always honor our deals."
"And you want something from Fillory," Eliot said. "You can't control it yourself; most Fillorians can't even see you. You need your puppet royalty."
Another long, silent stare. Eliot took that as confirmation.
"I believe we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement," she said at length.
"What do you propose?" Eliot tilted his head. "I should tell you right now I'm not really interested in trading my eyes or toes or . . . other bits. And I'm all out of unborn children."
Another stare. Then she beckoned him closer. Eliot hesitated only a moment, then strode over and sat down on Margo's throne. He wasn't going to keep being a petitioner in his own goddamn throne room, thanks.
He would like to say that they negotiated for hours, working out a precise deal that guaranteed that the fairies couldn't continue to fuck with Fillory. He'd absolutely love to say that he managed to get Fen their daughter back in the bargain. But in reality, the Fairy Queen's proposed deal wasn't one he could refuse.
Margo, it seemed, had fallen through a portal, and not one of the fairies' making. They suspected it was the work of Ember himself, who couldn't undo it since — well. He was dead. The fairies could locate and reopen the portal, but they couldn't step through. Some wibbly-wobbly fairy deal shit. They needed a willing human to go through for them.
And, well. Eliot was willing. Margo had saved him, any number of times, on every level. There was no world, no timeline in which he refused to do the same for her.
"Bring her back," the Fairy Queen said, "and your kingdom will not suffer."
"That's a very funny way of saying you'll restore the gold-shitting beetles and enchant us some central pivot sprinklers for irrigation," Eliot said, looking down at the crack in the ground Margo had apparently fallen into.
The Fairy Queen gave a faint nod. Eliot swallowed and nodded back. He pulled his flask from his pocket, took a sip, and tucked it away. Then took a deep breath, and leaped.
[NFB, NFI, OOC welcome. This one is all me. Eliot will be arriving in Fandom shortly!]