The Virgin and the Fae

A/N: Thanks so so so much to everyone who reviewed!!

Just a quick response to Sonyasha: I was inspired to write this story when lying in bed recovering from the flu with nothing to do. I gave Charlotte a flu for plot purposes but also because I must have felt like creating someone--albeit fictional--to share in my pain lol. Anyways, in the days leading up to me actually having a fever I had lost my appetite, was super tired and was sore and achy all over--mostly back and shoulders. So that was just me trying to provide a few symptoms of being sick drawn from my icky real life experience :) I dropped talking about it in later chapters since I was having her take so many pain killers/fever reducers and had only intended for her to have a nasty 24 hour bug of some kind. Sorry if it was confusing!

To all: I promise questions about unicorns will be answered very very soon....

As always, if you have a moment, please review!

And on with the story....


There was a soft, tentative knock at the door. Reluctantly, Garrick tore his eyes off of the sleeping Charlotte.

It was almost midmorning now. No doubt he had much to attend to given Charlotte’s escapades the day before.

“What is it?” Garrick asked once he’d opened the door. One of the elfin servants stood on the threshold, fidgeting nervously. They were always so frightened. A bit like diminutive children fearful of punishment.

“My lord, there are several missives that await your response. Mister Locke arrived several minutes ago and demanded to see you.”

“Of course he did,” Garrick replied grimly. “Alright then, show him up. Have him bring up something to eat as well.” The elf bowed low and waddled away to find Locke. They were so slow, Garrick thought. It would be so much faster to simply travel down and get Locke himself. If only elves could change places like the Fae…

Garrick shut the door, turning back into the room. It still smelled distinctly of Charlotte’s arousal, faint but the traces of her scent lingered in the air.

Locke traveled in, holding what looked to be a small breadbasket.

“You’re hungry?” He asked by way of greeting.

“No,” Garrick shook his head. “But she will be.” Locke looked over at the naked human, taking in the smell of the room and the ties still attached to the bedposts. A smile of relief broke across his face.

“Congratulations, I—“ but Garrick cut him off before he could continue.

“She’s still a virgin,” Garrick remarked impassively, covering the girl with his jacket. There was an odd possessiveness in his emotions now, and Locke seeing her naked bothered him more than he cared to admit.

“What?” Locke demanded, practically shouting. Had he been able to he would have asked any number of questions such as: why was she naked? Why was she in his bed? Why had he not just fucking deflowered her already? But he was never able to. His yelling awoke Charlotte who let out a slight yelp at the presence of the angry Fae.

Garrick glared at Locke, angry with him for disturbing her sleep. Locke supposed he could have expected that. What he could not have expected was Charlotte’s narrowing of her eyes or her soft hiss of, “you bastard.”

Reflexively, Locke was at her throat in an instant, his hand raised to strike her for her insult. Garrick caught Locke’s fist before it could descend.

“Stop. It seems mortals have their pride as well.”

“But Garrick, she forgets her place.”

“She is not your affair. Her punishments will be given be me and me alone. It matters not what she does; only I will discipline her. Is that clear?”

Locke murmured a sulky, “Yes,” before Garrick released his hand.

“And she should understand that, given her performance this morning, I will not be so considerate in her disciplining in the future.” Charlotte colored brightly, both from remembering how she had humiliated herself the night before and from worrying about what it would mean when he was no longer so “considerate.”

In the scuffle, Garrick’s jacket had slipped off of Charlotte into her lap, leaving her breasts exposed.

“Put the jacket on,” Garrick ordered her harshly.

Charlotte did so, slipping her arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the tiny buttons. No one spoke as she worked, increasing her rising anxiety. She moved as quickly as she could but her speed made her clumsy, drawing out the long moments of silence even longer.

“Its good you’re here, Locke. I anticipate the word of Charlotte’s escape will have reached the other two kingdoms by now and I will have to do some traveling in order to sort things out. Your arrival has actually solved my problem. You see, I can’t take Charlotte with me, but I did not want to leave her behind unguarded. I trust you can put aside your apparent dislike of Charlotte and keep her safe until I return?”

Torn between loyalty and anger at the idea of play babysitter to the human, Locke only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Charlotte, I will see you later tonight. I sincerely hope that you will have taught yourself to keep a more civil tongue in your head by then,” Garrick chastised, and then as if on an impulse, he bent down to kiss her before disappearing.

Charlotte wished she were bold enough to slap him.

Locke pinched the bridge of his nose as if in physical pain. “A human. Of all the creatures, why did it have to be a human?”

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable alone with Locke, Charlotte slipped from the bed. The jacket slid down, covering her almost to her knees. Once she was standing, she felt somewhat on more equal ground, but still she had not forgotten his multiple attacks. If only there were something she could put between them, she thought, looking around the room.

“The bread is for you,” he said, setting the basket down on the table beside him. “After the night you had, no doubt you’re hungry.” Locke had absolutely no idea was had transpired between the two of them the night before, but it was clear—however it was she had ended up naked—that the human was sensitive about it. It made him feel better to taunt her with the pretense that he did.

“He told you what happened?” For Garrick to have seen her humiliate herself was bad enough, but for him to have told the other Fae was…unbearable.
Locke felt a twinge of guilt. The girl looked so devastated that he worried that continuing the act might damage whatever fragile bond Garrick might have with her. He knew Garrick wanted her love—he’d known that before Garrick—and though he disapproved, he had no intention of actively sabotaging matters. He’d leave such tactics to the jealous Fae women once they learned of the human’s special status.

“No, he didn’t. But—“ he motioned at her appearance—“I assumed that you…” he trailed off.

Charlotte let out a low laugh. It was Locke’s turn to shift uncomfortably. The laugh was not like the fulsome one of yesterday; this one was brittle and cold. He didn’t understand it, but it seemed that the human laughed even though she was not amused.

“I can guarantee that whatever it is that you assumed happened last night did not happen.”

Locke shrugged. He was not going to increase her feelings of self-importance with further questioning. Knowing whether or not she was still a virgin was all he cared about and he knew she was still one. He believed all curiosity to have been satisfied.

Charlotte had no desire to talk either. She wasn’t hungry but she made her way across the room to the bread anyways. Eating would at least provide her with an activity for the time being.

She sat cross-legged on the floor by the fire, the basket in her lap. It was some kind of brioche that she picked up first. Sweet and yeasty, with a cake-like yellow coloring inside.

It made her think of Paris, though she’d never been. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself sitting at some small Parisian café, looking out over the street and the people walking in it. She’d have a coffee, no, an espresso with a layer of crema on top. And she’d take it with two sugars so that the bitterness disappeared. She’d have her brioche with too sweet strawberry jam. She wanted only sweetness.

She tore tiny pieces off, setting them in her mouth, allowing her saliva to almost liquefy the bread on her tongue before swallowing.

“No wonder you are so thin,” Locke finally said breaking the silence. “You eat so slowly.” She ignored him, though she mentally noted his attempt at small talk.

She heard feet shuffling for a few minutes before he tried again, asking a question he’d wondered over for some time.

“Garrick said that you were sick when you were younger.”

Charlotte swallowed the soggy bit of brioche before answering. She was beyond wondering how Garrick knew that. If he’d told the truth and he’d started watching her at fourteen, then it would have almost a year after she’d gone into remission. Then again, he could have seen her many doctors’ appointments and tests, which still continued….

“Yes.”

“But why were you sick?”

“Why?” She turned around now, looking at him peculiarly.

“Yes, why were you sick?” It was a question her mother had sobbed to the doctor. “Why is my baby sick?” Charlotte remembered it well. He’d given an answer full of discomfort and technical terms that was no more helpful than the answer Charlotte provided just then.

“I don’t know. Sometimes people just…they just get sick. And sometimes they get better and sometimes they don’t.”

“But you ‘got better,’” Locke said, trying out the colloquialism.

“Yes.” Charlotte turned back to her bread, trying to return to that café in Paris.

“But why did you get better?” This was a question Charlotte herself had wondered for most of her adult life. And it was a question she refused to answer, refused to think about for fear that suddenly she would relapse.

“I just did.” Locke was at a loss. The human was so taciturn and yet the silence was unbearable. Well, if she wouldn’t fill it….

“I watched you too sometimes with Garrick. I thought you were one of the most beautiful things—of any kind—that I’d ever seen.” He waited for some kind of recognition of the compliment but none came.

He missed Fae women suddenly; with them, all it seemed to take was a single compliment and they’d open up before him.

Perhaps honesty would be better with her? “But you weren’t happy. I never understood why he liked you so much. The others and I, we choose humans for things like beauty, but mostly, we take them into our world to make them give their joy to us.”

Charlotte thought of the awful room in the caverns, filled with screams.

“Does that ever work?”

“No,” Locke admitted ruefully.

Charlotte gave another brittle laugh.

“You can’t make someone give you their happiness. Its something you share, not something you can take from them for yourself.”

“But we try—“

“No!” Charlotte interjected, still sickened by her memories of their ‘trying.’ “No, you don’t try and share anything. You, you take these people and you destroy them. You take them away from their lives and their loved ones and everything that was good, and then you torture them. You subject them to the most monstrous things and when they finally die, broken and miserable, you look around wondering where all the happiness has gone. Why don’t you have it now since you’ve taken it away from them? But you don’t understand, do you? Happiness isn’t a thing that just because one person has it, another doesn’t.”

“What do you know about happiness? You were never happy,” Locke retorted, angry at her reprimanding tone.

“I was with the unicorn,” Charlotte shot back.

It had the desired result; Locke paled and took a step back as if in fear. “What are you so afraid of?" She asked softly. "What is it that you think I can do?”