The Virgin and the Fae

The room suddenly felt considerably less safe.

It was clear that with the Fae gone, Garrick intended to punish her. But what was to be her punishment? Trying to run again was tempting, but Charlotte felt she’d be considerably less successful a second time around. There was almost no chance for escape, thus there was almost no reason to tempt Garrick’s anger further.

He was watching her with an unreadable look upon his face. Finally, he spoke, “Unlike my court, I am not so easily charmed by a laugh, particularly when it is one I have heard so many times before. Once the novelty has worn off, your laugh is just like any other’s: plain and ordinary.”

His anger reverberated in his voice. Somehow Charlotte knew he didn’t mean what he had just said, it was just meant to hurt her. He’d have to do a bit better than that, she thought. To call a person’s laugh plain and ordinary was not an insult as far as she was concerned.

But rather than try and retort, Charlotte ignored it entirely, asking instead, “How did you find me?” It was only one of the hundreds of questions she had, but it felt like the most important one. And the easiest to ask. She was not yet ready to ask why he wanted her to love him.

“You told me where you were.”

“No, I didn’t.” What else was there to say? Of course she didn’t tell him where she was.

“Yes. You did. Perhaps not in so many words, after all, I don’t think you knew where you were. But you painted a beautifully clear picture for me.” Charlotte’s blood ran cold.

“You can read my mind?” she asked in a ragged whisper.

“Not usually. A person’s mind is far too jumbled, with thoughts forming and unforming too fast to be comprehensible. But you, it was as if you blocked everything else out and methodically began to detail each aspect of your surroundings for me. I’d been so focused on trying to find you, and then, it was as if you found me instead. You called out to me.”

“I won’t next time.” Her tone was defiant, but in truth, Charlotte felt horribly powerless. Recaptured and naked, huddled in a ball on the floor, Charlotte felt the biting sting of self-loathing. She hadn’t known that her desire to remember that moment would reveal her location. She couldn’t have known. And yet how she wished she had.

“There won’t be a next time. Get up.”

“Why?” Garrick looked tired and he closed his eyes for a moment before responding.

“Charlotte, I want you to get up so I can feed you. You haven’t eaten at all these few days and you’ve barely even eaten in the past few weeks.” It was disconcerting that he knew that.

“Oh? Don’t want me raped on an empty stomach? How generous of you.” She practically spat her words at him, channeling all her self-loathing towards her captor.

“I didn’t want to rape you, it was merely an unfortunate necessity at the time that is no longer required of me,” he paused, and then added “I even tried using magics to calm you down, but you kept throwing them off,” as though it excused his actions.

“You were trying to drug me?” Charlotte demanded.

“Drug you? Of course I wasn’t trying…” he trailed off, lost in thought. “…trying to drug you...” Charlotte was too angry to notice the dawning look of realization that passed over Garrick’s face. He walked over to her and extended his hand to her.

“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie.

“Get up,” Garrick responded, in a tone that implied the danger of refusing any further.

Charlotte stood. What did it matter, he’d seen her naked before after all.

She followed him through the throne room. She didn’t know why she thought of it as one; she couldn’t see an actual throne anywhere, but it seemed to be where he received the Fae.

After passing through several opulent drawing rooms, they entered a dining room, laid out with an elaborate banquet.

The long mahogany table was covered with dishes, some Charlotte recognized, and others that she didn’t. She saw roast chicken, a whole suckling pig, a few pies, a steaming pot of soup. There were fruits and vegetables too, some whole and others sliced and cooked.

Garrick instructed her to sit and eat, watching her to ensure she did as she was told and then disappeared.

She was glad for his absence, feeling free now to eat as indelicately as she pleased Charlotte was starving and tore into a chicken leg ravenously. The bones were picked clean, the flesh and gristle stripped away, leaving only the dark bones. She cleaned most of the carcass too, using her fingers to get every last piece of meat she could. She was still trying to remove tiny bits of meat from along the ribs when she remembered all the other food on the table. The chicken was pushed aside and she grabbed for the next closest dish: a pie.

Charlotte didn’t even pause to cut a slice; she dug her fork in and began to eat.

It was a meat pie of some kind. The beef flavor was prominent, but Charlotte could taste bacon as well. The crust was incredible—it had a rich buttery flavor, and flaked against her fork. God, never had Charlotte appreciated food this much. Her mouth was beginning to become dry, and Charlotte looked around for water or something to drink. Odd, there didn’t seem to be anything.

She reached for the soup instead. It was a clear vegetable soup, full of simmered carrots, potatoes, celery, and what looked to be a white vegetable she didn’t recognize. She tasted the unknown vegetable first, tentatively. It was, she decided after reflection, a bit like a sweet turnip.

Charlotte was almost done with the soup when Garrick returned, carrying a large goblet.

He merely arched an eyebrow when he saw how much she’d consumed. Charlotte colored slightly, knowing that he was thinking of her "I'm not hungry" comment earlier.

“Are you thirsty?” Charlotte nodded and gratefully accepted the goblet he held out to her. She drank most of it down greedily before she even paid attention to the taste. It was some kind of fruit nectar, cloying and thick. It was unpleasant, Charlotte decided, but it was still something to drink.

“Where did you go?’ She asked at last, uncomfortable with his silence and his staring.

“I had something to do.” There was silence again, Charlotte focused her attention back on the soup, but most of her enjoyment of it was gone. In fact, it tasted off now; watery and diluted when it had once been rich and flavorful.

She returned to the pie, but it too had changed, becoming chalky in her mouth.

A contraction ran across her belly.

Oh God, she had eaten far too fast...

But...this was different than indigestion, this was…God, and there was another one. Hot and rippling, flashing bolts of heat out throughout her body. Charlotte doubled over slightly with a groan.

Was her fever back? She felt like she was on fire.

Her mouth had gone dry and Charlotte reached for the goblet again. She’d brought it almost up to her lips before she froze.

“Oh my God, it’s poisoned.” The goblet fell from her fingers with a clang as she threw herself away from the table. The thick liquid only spilled slightly out over the table. The dark brown fluid was unnaturally viscous, seemingly confirming her belief in its toxicity.

“Not exactly,” Garrick replied, watching her as she backed up against the wall.

“”Not exactly?’ Not exactly? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Its your punishment.” Charlotte groaned as she clutched her stomach, needing release from the fire that seemed to be lapping against her insides.

“Will it kill me?” Charlotte asked quietly.

Garrick was at her side in an instant, enfolding her in his arms.

“No, little one, it won’t kill you.”

Charlotte nodded grimly, resigned to whatever pain this would bring. As long as she didn’t die, she could weather this, whatever this was. She closed her eyes against another thunderous wave of heat.