The Virgin and the Fae

Garrick watched her while she slept, entranced by her soft beauty, but also worried that her sickness would get worse. He piled blanket after blanket on her when she shivered, remembering Hugh’s words that it meant her body thought it was cold. She awoke just before daybreak, briefly. She saw him, let out a defeated sigh as she acknowledged that this was real, and asked for more pills. She took them in her hand, rather than endure his fingers against her lips again, and tossed them into her mouth, swallowing them before falling back asleep. It wasn’t until the evening that she woke up again.

Garrick stayed with her the entire time, even going so far as to take his meals in the room with her. The room smelled of sweat and mortality, and he feared that she might somehow die at any moment. If she could have, Charlotte would have told him that it was only a flu most likely, one brought on by exhaustion and stress, no doubt.



“You’re still here,” Charlotte remarked as she sat up feeling her head with the back of her hand. She supposed she felt normal, but it was always difficult to self-evaluate. Perhaps the fever-reducer had done its job. She smelled the air; it certainly smelled like a sick room.



“I didn’t want to leave.” She noticed once more that he explained things in terms of his wants. “You’re to bathe and dress. You are to join me at a party.”



“But what if I’m not well enough yet?”



“You look fine.” His tone was suddenly chilly again, as if warning her not to argue.



Suddenly Charlotte was naked, immersed in the warm water of a large bath tub. She screamed, briefly, at the surprise. “Don’t do that! I hate when you use your magic on me. I could have easily walked to the bathroom and climbed in myself.”



“But this is faster.” He seemed puzzled at why she should object.



“But when you do…something like this, its like you take away all my control over myself.”



“Why should you control yourself? You are mine, not your own.” Charlotte’s eyes widened.



“What?”



“I have taken you, claimed you as my own. You belong to me. The whole of the Fae world recognizes my claim, and after tonight, they will recognize my ownership.”



“But what about me? I don’t recognize you as my owner or whatever it is that you think you are.”



“Why should your thoughts matter? You’re only a human.” Charlotte was beginning to feel very cold, despite the water’s warm. The chilling certainty in which he spoke, the refusal to recognize any sort of resistance on her part, it all frightened her, and seemed to led her towards a question she felt terrified to know the answer to:



“What are you going to do with me?”



“I will publically claim you as my own and then I don’t know yet what exactly I want from you. I will treat you well, though, not like how the other Fae treat their humans.”



“Their humans? Like Hugh?”



“Kaelyn is more indulgent with Hugh than most others are. We try not to meddle with humans, but if there is a mortal that catches our attention, we take them. There is no limit to how many a Fae can have and as a result, many of us are overly demanding on the humans since your kind is deemed to be rather….expendable.” Charlotte thought she might vomit; perhaps she was not well yet.



“You’re going to kill me?”



“Of course not,” Garrick snapped, angry at the idea that he would do such a thing. “I have wanted you since you were fourteen, but I gave you years—five years—to grow and live in your world. I gave you time to mature. For no one else have I ever, will I ever, deny myself of what I want.”



“Since I was fourteen?”



“You were so beautiful. I saw you and I wanted you.” Charlotte was beginning to find this conversation too troublesome. She sunk her entire head below the water and opened her eyes. The tub was of white marble and square. It was large enough that should she wish to she could swim in two full strokes to the other side. Her dark hair floated about her in the water, and she smoothed it back before rising again to the surface.



“The other Fae, they murder humans?”



“They only kill their own humans, and it is usually accidental. We forget so easily that you are mortal. A punishment that a Fae servant could withstand can oftentimes maim or kill one of your kind. They can also be overly demanding of their mortals physically, or rather sexually. The women in particular of your kind seem to break very easily at certain parties.”



“Oh god….” Charlotte couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was talking about. All she could think was that these humans—whoever and wherever they were—were being sadistically tortured and killed. Garrick reached out and stroked her hair.



“Its alright, I know better than to do you that kind of harm. And no one else will ever either. Once the claiming takes place, any other Fae would risk a great deal to try and touch you. You are mine and I will share you will no one else.”



“Share me?” Charlotte repeated, dazedly.



“Some of the other Fae will…share their humans amongst friends. Its usually at parties and often too much Elfin wine is served. Its common that an especially pretty human won’t last through the night. But don’t worry; I told you, I won’t share you. I never share my toys.” Charlotte recoiled.



“I’m not a toy. I’m not a possession. This is sick, all of this is sick. Please just let me go home.”



“I have been patient with you this past day. You have not been well, but be assured that I will not stand disobedience from you. You are to obey me and if you do not, I will be forced to discipline you. It must difficult to hear of what happens to your kind in our realm, but it is not to be your fate. However, you must not mistake the fact that I have no wish to hurt you with the idea that I will not hurt you should I need to discipline you.” Charlotte shrunk further down into the water until it was up to her chin.



“But how will you know not to kill me?”



“I’ll know. There are many ways that I can discipline you. Not all of them involve physical pain. Its time to get dressed.”



“Wait!” Charlotte cried.



“Yes?”



“Can I walk there? May I please walk to my room?”



“Why does that matter?”



“It just…its what I want.” There, perhaps those were terms he’d understand.



“But we are on the opposite end of the castle.” Jesus, a castle? She’d have to think about that later.



“Then can we make a deal?” He laughed uproariously.



“A deal? What do you have to offer?”



“Nothing, not really anyways, but please, I recognize that to you it makes more sense to just transpose me somewhere, but it would mean a lot, a great deal even, if I could have some kind of say in things. Perhaps, if you have to move me somewhere, before do, you could tell me to warn me? And what if—what if today, you transpose me to my room, but allow me to pick out the dress? That’s fair, isn’t it?” Garrick cocked his head slightly to look at her. His Charlotte. She was even more beautiful in person than he’d thought possible. Especially now, with her face scrunched slightly as she sought for find some way to control some part of what was happening around her.



“Alright, I am going to transfer us to your bedchamber, and you will be allowed to pick your dress for tonight—but remember to dress…nicely.” Her smile was so radiant that it hurt.