Allory Fae and the Dragon's Whiskers

IN A PAUSE BETWEEN aerial twirls, holding her with just the lightest pressure upon her left flank and the unbearable connexion between their upraised hands, the Prince pleaded, "Don't say anything. Not yet. I know it's sudden, dear Allory, far too sudden, and a ridiculous burden to place upon your shoulders at this juncture. Forgive me. Forgive this unworthy Prince, this fool of a man, but you have quite undone whatever reason I thought I possessed."

Allory knew she would never forget this moment. She knew because of the certainty in her inmost being that underlay all the clamouring misgivings that had always plagued her life's sap.

One could not ask why. Some things were pure, beautiful unreason.

A matter of a soul's melody.

Undeniable.

In a helpless, overwhelming response to her heart's aching fullness, scintillance detonated from the core of her being. Azure radiance washed over the massed ranks of Pixies, causing them to ripple back and forth as if Julfyria had breathed heavily upon them. Every speck of Pixie dust the coruscating wave of radiance touched, came alive. Suddenly they were not merely matte black, but a resplendent onyx infused with radiant particles of azure Pixie dust, the natural patterning of their skin etched in exquisite, intricate detail. The sombre congregation stirred with a sound like leaves rustling. Disbelief. Amazement. Pixies rubbed their legs and corralled their dust with excited, disbelieving sweeps of their arms, the better to gape at the striking effect. From their ranks rose a sound like mirth locked away for ten thousand years, abruptly released in a babble of different voices and responses.

Julfyria's reaction to the expanding sphere of scintillance was different. She inhaled sharply and then sneezed – pointing her muzzle upward to spare most, but not all, of the great congregation from the tidal blast. It cleared a swathe like an upward-frothing waterfall through Pixies and plants until Allory briefly saw the cavern ceiling about four thousand feet above, heavily splashed by the glimmering, frosty outbreath.

Hansanori shut his dangling jaw with an audible click.

Allory trembled helplessly. Radiant azure-silver dust poured from her vibrating wingtips, a glitter-shower spun of pure magic.

All she could think was that if love moved Soul Blossom, then what had just ignited within her? Could it be that she responded in the same way, that something of her same capacity for shining for love flourished in a Fae creature called Allory? Could this be what connection with Ehlshinoi truly meant?

If so … she had no words.

Clinging to Hansanori's hand with both of hers, she tried and failed to speak with her usual epic ineptitude. Not a word, for her throat felt as if it had been bound shut. Those old insecurities. She was aware only of moisture gathering in her eyes, of the growing stillness of her friends as they became aware that she and the Prince shared a special moment. Did she dream? Could it be that a despised runt from the deepest jungles should enjoy this most undeserved fate, a love that had swept over her like a tropical storm, lashing the boughs of her verimost existence? Yet they were both broken in different ways. Both imperfect and uncertain and deeply afraid.

"Allory?" he whispered at last.

She dashed a few teardrops out of either eye and managed to force out something that sounded like, "M-my Prince?"

"If I may speak according to proper Faerie tradition," said he, with no small trembling of his own, yet he raised his voice boldly, "I call upon all gathered about to witness that I, His Luminance Hansanori Argentate-al-Ahrtumi, Crown Prince of Ahm-Shira and Faedom, by oath thrice bound upon the very sap of my Faerie magic, life and soul, wish by my humblest powers to implore the honour of paying formal courtship to your incomparable right hand, o Allory Life-Weaver, Elemental Scinntarinae of the Scintillant Fae."

Drawing her hand upward, he brushed his lips against her knuckles. "Will you assent?"

So formal, wording she knew only from the legends.

An inane voice in her head squeaked something about why it should be only her right hand and not the rest of her person? Traditions. Ridiculous things at the best of times.

Yet, she had no idea what to do. How to respond? She knew she must, for a new truth burned in her breast. Over Hansanori's right shoulder, Allory caught sight of Yaarah looking on ever so earnestly. Her friend's golden eyes blazed with fervent emotion; indeed, he appeared ready to explode with joy. Yet, the Felidragon must have instinctually understood the pleading note in her gaze, because he nodded slightly. Fear not, Allory Fae. Ah, even a talon's touch to his whiskers! Scoundrel.

Bristling with infallibility and all that.

To Yaarah's right wing, Ashueli's ever-expressive eyebrows arched in an unexpectedly mischievous manner. Surprise him, they suggested. Make that silver Faerie gasp.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Well, she knew what Scintillants did to seal the First Vow of Intention. Similar idea, right? Or it could be the biggest cultural gaffe she had ever made, but one, Allory was convinced she could not utter a coherent word and two, who would tell? Only nearly two hundred thousand Pixies and a Dragoness from the dawn of the world.

What was she even worried about?

On an impulse, she flicked her wings to propel herself across the space between them. Buzz! Suggids! All eight gossamer wings decided that now was the instant to prove their concerted worth. Her intended kiss turned into a speedy bunt of the royal lips. She bounced away.

He began to exhale, "Ouch …"

Scintillance welled up with shocking fervour.

In a soundless explosion, phosphorescent light raced out of her body a second time, another expanding disturbance that haloed every last creature in the vicinity with vibrant, shimmering veils of light across the full spectrum. The Pixies created a chorus of sound by snapping their fingers and rustling their glowing dust at the same time, a celebratory chorus if Allory was not mistaken. Julfyria thundered joyously. The rest of her companions just looked stunned.

Touching his upper lip with his free hand, Hansanori spluttered, "And that … that was a … positive response, I take it?"

Her smile had to be incandescent.

He still hadn't released her with his other hand. Possessive much?

Such a nice Prince.

Izzini danced by briefly to explain, quite breathlessly, "In Scintillant culture, that's her 'aye' to your First Vow of Intention, o Prince – isn't it, Allory?"

Hovering at the edge of his reach, Allory essayed a careful nod. Nothing that might be interpreted as staging another attack upon the Crown Prince, especially as she was three out of three for ineptitude just now.

Hansanori gleamed as if he had just been buffed up by a hundred servants. "Oh! I … well, that's rather … startling. We don't kiss … to seal a vow." He appeared to be fighting back tears, but drew a shuddering breath before adding, "I mean, I am familiar with a great many cultures from all around the known realms of Fae, but I appear to be lamentably lacking in instruction regarding the nuances of Scintillant traditions and formalities. Indeed not."

His grin turned perfectly wicked; wickedness fit to snatch her breath away.

Allory stared across at the Harpist, this manfae who had dared to compose her soul's own music, never more taken aback. She tingled in the aftermath of that outburst of scintillance, but not for that reason alone. She had no idea what he meant – this was his response to her most daring raid?

What … what now?

Inclining his head affably, he explained, "I fear that due to my shameful ignorance of the appropriate forms and customs, Allory Fae, I may be held guilty of fomenting a certain degree of cross-cultural confusion. I beg your pardon for my inexcusable unfamiliarity with matters of such manifest importance. Therefore, I wish to make a proposal. May I proceed?"

Seeing as His Royal Highness was in a mood to make proposals, who was she to disagee? Her neck creaked slightly into a nod.

"Now that I am fully informed of the apposite protocols," said he, wagging an eyebrow in self-deprecation at his own phrasing, "may I most humbly beg your indulgence in reprising my bungled request?"

The antiquated phrasing threw her nectar into a spin. Suggids, and this … oh! Oh, the rascal!

Her heart whanged up into her throat.

After an everlasting pause, Allory succeeded in genuflecting with her wings without causing further damage. "I am your humble servant, my Prince."

Humbly sparkly.

Almost sounded articulate there. Terrified to within an inch of her life's sap, in truth. She had no idea what she was doing, nor did she intend to stop to think. Given her habitual cowardice, that would only end badly.

With another exemplar drawn from his plethora of ridiculously refined courtly gestures, he declaimed, "Wherefore I, Hansanori of – insert list of long and boring titles – do hereby request the honour of officially courting the incomparable melody of my verimost soul, namely one Allory Fae, owner of various awesome and inspiring titles. How do you respond, o glittering one?"

Time stood still.

No hummingbird's heart could have outpaced hers just now.

Don't faint. Move. Move … please, o please wings don't let me down now … o destiny, be true!

Her fingers tightened. The sharp buzz of her mobile wings carried clearly into the immense silence around them.

For all his graces, the Argent Fae appeared to shiver with a sense of liberation as Allory employed the connection of their joined hands to spin in along his arm – this time, with delicacy she felt in no drop of her sap, mostly because she was not sure she could feel anything at all.

His free hand steadied her a half-inch from contact. The other wound necessarily about her waist, a connection at once firm and thrilling.

Allory gazed deep into his eyes, so near, so vulnerable, so overwhelmingly expressive. Feeling as if she were falling forward yet holding still all at once. How could she deny this? Her valiant Prince wanted for instruction. Such an intolerable situation could not be permitted to persist.

She heard herself murmur, "Since it is cultural, after all."

Leaning in, she kissed him.

Allory Fae kissed the Crown Prince of all Faedom.

The tiny Scintillant recognised the millisecond his lips softened to fuse with hers. The argent heat of his touch came as a shock to her relative coolness of her flesh; a second shock that his hand slipped behind her neck to cup her head ever so tenderly, a third the barely controlled passion with which he responded to her bold gesture. So much hiding behind that debonair exterior. Melody, melancholy and even a hint of obsession. How thrilling to be the object of such fascination. Incredible. Alarming … all at once, unbearable illumination swept through her, igniting everything as if the Shyraiama Dragons had unveiled Middlesun herself within her heart.

Their kiss stopped time.

Devastating magic unfurled between them. Faraway, in a gravitational perturbation, Allory sensed Soul Blossom waxing with uncontainable joy at their interaction. The Argent Fae's silvery radiance swelled until she had to shut her eyes. Unfortunately, Allory realised in the very next millisecond, the kiss was also so outstanding that it literally blew her away. One second, all was escalating passion. The next, Hansanori found himself smooching a sparkle-explosion.

It rather disturbed his hairstyle.

"No!" he gasped, gaping at his empty hands in shock and despair.

The scintillant air for tens of feet around him giggled in delight. She vibrated, "Hansanori, I'm right here –"

At that instant, an enormous, hollow explosion shook the chamber.

Julfyria bellowed in outrage!