For those who follow my work more closely, this story is strictly non-canon, just because Alrek's never actually been to the Wild Continent in-canon. For those who don't, no worries—this story is pretty self-explanatory.
*****
"
You're just getting so silly, aren't you? So silly and sleepy. Such a sweet boy...
"
"Would you stop that?" Alrek scowled down at the large champagne bottle strapped to his belt. It was glowing a pale pink, and the lights spiraling inside—and the contorting, writhing body—were almost hypnotic.
"
You never want me to stop,"
a resonant voice inside whispered. "
You wanna be a good, silly, horny—YEEK!"
Well, not almost. He gave the bottle a little shake, causing the wicked bubble sprite to go bouncing around, bonking off of the sides. She glared at him through the thick, hypnosis-dampening glass.
"I said, stop it," Alrek snapped.
"Fuck you!"
"We could've been getting along a lot better this whole journey if you talked like that from the get-go."
She pouted. "Well, can you blame me for trying?"
Alrek chewed his inner cheek. "Considering you're being sent to this 'Verdant Ward' place because you kept trying to brainwash people... yeah, I think so. That'd make sense, right?"
She stuck her tongue out at him. She was a tiny thing, barely larger than an average fairy—hence the 'celebration-sized' champagne bottle. She was slender and pale, with a mane of bright wavy red hair done up in a massive topknot. Tall, too—maybe eight inches. Her eyes smoldered a deep purple thanks to the red glass and the pink glow. They were naturally blue, Alrek was pretty sure, and just a bit too large to be proportional. Sparkles hung around her in the bottle, like moths around a lamp.
Alrek couldn't wait to be done with this quest. Not that he had any problem with the Wild Continent in general, but every fey he met seemed to expect him to know the customs, and he did not speak even a smattering of the local tongues. Every fey he met also seemed to expect him to fuck them, and though they weren't usually inclined to push the issue, the social anxiety this inflicted was only slightly preferable to the risk of being brainwashed.
"You can be as pissed as you like," he said, patting the bottle and continuing through the bamboo forest. "But brainwash a barmaid, you go to the Ward. Seems like a simple, uh, cause-and-effect to me."
"Fuck off. If I weren't in this bottle, I'd be brainwashing the shit out of you."
Alrek snorted. "You're, what, two inches tall?"
"I'm eight and a half inches!" she snarled, incensed. "And you wouldn't be laughing if I were able to cover you in sparkles... spiraling, sparkling, catching your eyes... ooh, sinking... sinking..."
Alrek rolled his eyes. "You're hypnotizing yourself off the reflections in the glass again.
There was a pause.
"I knew that."
~ ~ ~ ~
"Is this really the place?" Alrek wasn't asking Verre, of course. Just thinking aloud as he studied the great silver gates—currently open, conveniently. "I was expecting, like, a dungeon, or some kinda miserable castle."
He strode inside, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble. The Verdant Ward was apparently prison to countless mischievous fey, and though they were somewhat controlled here, he was given to understand that the main controls were the two Wardens who kept them in line. How they did so he wasn't sure.
He made his way past a few tall hazelnut trees to a small, pleasant-looking house, and knocked at the door.
He waited.
"Maybe they're not home," Verre said, sounding a bit too eager. "Maybe they're out. Better leave me by the doorstep and, um..."
"Yeah, sure." Alrek rolled his eyes. He'd been warned very firmly about his prisoner's eagerness to be left unattended. If someone wasn't aware of her tricks, and wasn't as strong-willed as Alrek happened to be, they would be easy enough to trick into staring into Verre's eyes. And she'd be free pretty damn quickly after that.
They waited in silence.
Alrek knocked again and waited.
"Huh." Verre sounded surprised." Maybe they're
not
home."
"Shut up." Alrek knocked again, louder.
After fifteen minutes of Alrek growing increasingly impatient—and Verre growing increasingly insistent—Alrek began to suspect that they weren't home.
He sat down on the steps, resting one hand on the bottle on his hip to hide Verre from view. Well, shit. He didn't like complications, but now things were getting complicated. He had a few choices.
He could wait here and hope somebody showed up. He didn't like that choice, but it was probably the safest.
He could leave. Not really an option—he wasn't getting paid if he didn't complete the delivery, and there was no way he was leaving a creature as dangerous as Verre unattended.
Or
he could look around for the Wardens. This wasn't a great option, but it might get him out of here faster, especially if he was careful and sneaky.
Alrek chewed his inner cheek. No. Better to wait.
~ ~ ~ ~
Alrek waited about two hours, and the sun was getting low in the sky when he stood up. "Okay, screw it."
He didn't want to be here after dark; he knew that much. All sorts of fey could sneak up on him in the dark, and the Ward held all sorts of fey who would. He'd heard they even had a particularly weak umbra hag in custody nowadays, and as far as he knew, most of the 'prisoners' were essentially free range. Alrek looked around, squinting against the dim light.
There was a cottage atop a hill he'd noticed earlier. Maybe, despite appearances,
that
was where the Wardens lived.
He started walking, ignoring the tune Verre had begun to hum.
~ ~ ~ ~
Alrek was already on his guard when he saw a pretty blonde sitting next to the cottage door, playing with three elaborately-carved tops. She stared at the tops, seemingly spellbound. When she looked up at him, and her face split into a wide grin, and he noticed the deep gold of her eyes—and the gossamer wings just barely visible fluttering behind her back—he took a step back.
Thriae. Honey fey. Sometimes referred to as 'meadbrewers'. Even in the Wild East, the Thriae were a rapacious, fearsome species of conquerors—and they didn't conquer through bloodshed. They were known as brilliant, cunning, manipulative, arrogant...
"Hi!" she said excitedly, eyes still slightly out of focus. She rose to her feet, swaying slightly. "S-So good to see you again, um... Master."
"Ooh, look," Verre cooed. "Those tops have spirals on 'em. I bet she's been hypnotizing herself. What a good girl!"
"Uh-huh!" Sylvia blinked, then nodded rapidly. "Yes, Mistress. Sylvia has been good. Sylvia loves it here. Mm..."
"Are they all like this?" Alrek muttered. "Or is this just a her thing?"
Sylvia giggled. "
Ummm
... uh-huh!"
"Sylvia," Verre said softly, musically. "
Syyylvia
."
"Ooh." Sylvia's eyelids fluttered. "H-Hi, Mistress. You're, like... so... sparkly..."
"I know I am," Verre said smugly. "Listen, do you wanna be a g—"
Alrek placed a hand over the bottle and waved it until Sylvia's eyes lost some of that bubble sprite glaze. "Sylvia, do you know where the Wardens are?"
"Mm..." Sylvia nodded dreamily, smiling up at him. "Ooh. I thought you were Senya. Hee!" She beamed. "Like, it'd be pretty bad if I tried to brainwash you the way we like to brainwash him. Heehee." She kicked her feet idly, causing her short blue skirt to ride up a little. "You don't even look like him. All rough and strong, right?"
"...Okay. So where is the Warden?"
"Um..." Sylvia put a finger to her lips, clearing thinking hard, struggling to shake off the lingering trance. "Gosh, I dunno. Ooh!" Her eyes lit up, and she drew a slip of paper and quill out of gods-knew-where. She pressed the tip of the quill to her tongue and started to write.
"What is she doing?" Alrek muttered.
"Dunno, Snatch," Verre said. "She seems battier than a belfry to
me
, but—"
"Here!" Sylvia rolled the slip up and whistled a few short notes.
A message bird dropped out of the sky and perched on her hand. She beamed at the creature, tucked the slip of paper into a little pocket strapped to its leg, and sent it flying back into the air. Sylvia clapped her hands happily, then turned to face Alrek with a big smile.
"We have message birds now!" she said, redundantly. "Birdy's, like, um, gonna go get the Wardens." She clasped her hands together in her lap, bouncing slightly in place. "While we wait for Senya and Kitten to arrive, though, you wanna come inside?"
Alrek grimaced. "I don't..."
He glanced behind him, and noticed how close the sun was to setting. A faint whistling reached him over the fields and bamboo forests.
Music. Panpipes.
"This place is wild," he muttered. Louder, he said, "Fine. Let's go inside."
"Yay!" She opened the door and bounced through, beckoning for him to follow. Still wary, but preferring the devil he knew, Alrek followed.
Inside, the cottage was surprisingly—and suspiciously—roomy. Alrek followed Sylvia into a split room, with a counter dividing a quaint little kitchen from a cozy living room area. A fireplace crackled behind the very soft-looking armchair. He noticed Sylvia trying to steer him towards that chair, and pointedly did not sit.
"Such a nice home you have," Verre said, her tone sly and calculated.
"Aw, thanks!" Sylvia beamed at the jar, her eyes sparkling with delight. "You're such a sweetie, Miss—ooh, sorry, what was your name?"
"Mistress is fine!" Verre chirped.
As she and Sylvia giggled and chattered, Alrek studied his surroundings intently. It was a very nice place, somewhat reminiscent of a goblin maid's home in the... well, homeyness of it. The fire cast a warm glow over everything—it was somewhat strange, as Alrek didn't recall seeing a chimney when he'd approached the house. The kitchen seemed well-stocked, if cramped. The far wall had three doors, all shut.
He could swear he heard sounds coming from one of those doors... faint gasps, whines, moans...
wet
sounds...
Sensing someone had moved very close, Alrek turned and jumped. Sylvia was standing right behind him, her eyes big and gold, a big, happy smile on her pretty face. For a moment, Alrek struggled to ward off any hypnotic effect reaching his mind.
Then he realized she was beaming at... Verre.
"That's right," Verre said, her tone as conversational as ever, "it's
