Chapter Text
“Sooooo, how do ya feel?”
“Like I have no more surface tension on my skin.”
“Oh, ha-ha.” Dawn rolled her eyes as she signaled to the pixies to cease fanning her and her sister’s freshly pedicured toes; they were plenty dry now. “It wouldn’t feel so weird if you properly moisturized on a regular basis.”
“Thanks,” Marianne smirked, “but I don’t see how I can fit your entire beauty regime today into my regular schedule.”
Dawn scoffed as she strutted into her closet. “Please! It’s a special occasion!”
Marianne relaxed into her sister’s lounge sofa. She’d certainly been through the wringer today and the ball itself was still not for another couple of hours! First a bath, then a salt scrub, a rinsing shower, then a mud bath, obviously followed by another shower, then a soak in a vat of milk and honey, yet another rinse, a rub down, then a super light lunch, and finally a mani-pedi while simultaneously having their hair brushed, combed, and set in curlers; hot and tight for Dawn, cold and loose for Marianne.
Though she’d never admit it out loud, it did feel pretty nice to be pampered and she was getting more and more excited to see the final results in the full length mirror before it was time to go downstairs.
“Are you ready for your dress?” Dawn’s eager voice suddenly came from the closet.
Marianne sat up with a confused frown. “Dawn, it’s way too early to get dressed.”
“I know that, you dummy!” Dawn giggled. “I meant are you ready to see it, not wear it!”
“Oh, um...okay, sure.”
“Yay! Close your eyes! No peeking!”
Sighing, Marianne did as she was asked and listened to the sounds of rustling fabric and the squeak of what she assumed were the wheels of Dawn’s mannequin being rolled into the bedroom. The noise stopped directly in front of her and Marianne chewed her lip to hide her girlish enthusiasm.
“Okay, open your eyes!”
Marianne’s brown eyes flew open only to widen in utter horror.
“Ta-da!” Dawn sang, bouncing on her toes. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
It certainly was, objectively speaking. The gown was an elegant, off the shoulder ensemble with a fitted and bejeweled bodice and a long, full, flowing skirt, the shimmering outer layer of which opened at the front revealing an inner layer of a matching shade adorned with spider-lace. A gentle, lettuce hem kissed the floor. Dawn had truly outdone herself. It was a masterpiece; the fanciest gown that had ever graced the halls of the fairy castle.
.
.
.
But all Marianne saw was yellow.
The dress was yellow.
Marianne felt her face burn and her now shaking hands turn ice cold. The color formed the image of a cursed flower in her mind’s eye. Its name kept repeating itself in her head. The same name that was once a term of endearment.
...My little buttercup...
“Marianne? What’s wrong?” Dawn asked anxiously, noticing her sister’s stunned silence. “Don’t you like it?”
A murmur was her only response.
“What?”
“...Dawn, you know I hate buttercups. Why would you ever even think of making me a dress out of buttercups?”
Dawn’s face was momentarily drained of color from the shock of her sister’s apparent displeasure, but almost immediately, the whiteness was replaced by a blazing, angry red.
“Because I didn’t.” Came her growling reply.
Marianne tore her eyes away from the gown and into Dawn’s furious gaze.
“They’re goldenrods!” Her sister exclaimed. “Not buttercups!”
The fairy queen felt freezing shame creep down her neck and shoulders, all the way to her palms.
“I’m not completely stupid, you know!” Dawn thundered before stomping across the room to her vanity. With indignant force, she plopped herself onto the stool and started rubbing her coconut oil primer to her still searing cheeks. Well, more like harshly slapping and swiping rather than rubbing. Her scarlet flush was spreading out almost to her ears!
Marianne’s fingers pressed against her temples and her nails spitefully dug in slightly for good measure.
Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!
There she went again, brashly making assumptions instead of carefully evaluating the facts. Only this time, she’d really put her foot in it!
True, the dress was yellow, but upon a closer and unbiased inspection, it was painfully clear that it was of a more soft, golden hue than the obnoxiously sunshiny color she dreaded.
Yet, what was far more significant was a glaring attribute she’d completely failed to process at first. The dress had a gradient effect. Starting just past the hips, the yellowish gold gradually darkened into a gorgeous shade...
...of amber.
Marianne felt her heart flip and then squeeze sharply. Oh, boy. She’d really screwed up.
“Dawn,” she said after taking a deep, steadying breath. “Dawn, listen-”
“Just forget it!”
Marianne edged her way closer to her sister, who was still furiously smacking and smearing her primer across her face. “Dawn, please, I—will you stop that? You’re gonna get all puffy!”
Dawn paused, quickly glanced at herself in the mirror and after a few moments’ hesitation, ceased her unwitting self-abuse with a huff.
Squatting down to her sister’s level, Marianne grazed her teeth over her lip before murmuring in a low, contrite voice. “Dawn, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I know you’d never do anything to remind me of...him. It really is a gorgeous dress, Dawn.”
”…”
”…”
“…And you really like it?”
“I love it.”
Dawn turned to peer at her sister searchingly.
“Honest, I do.” Marianne truthfully insisted.
Finally, Dawn beamed and hugged her sister tight around the shoulders.
“What do you think of the gradient?” she asked eagerly once they’d released each other. Scooting over, she made room for Marianne on the stool so they could both apply their primer properly.
“It’s incredible! How did you do that?”
Dawn only tittered and winked. “A genius never reveals her secrets!”
Marianne elbowed her and joined in the laughter for a few minutes until Dawn’s expression grew serious.
“It’s...meant to remind you of......someone else.”
The queen froze for a beat, but eventually relaxed into a bashful smile. There was no use hiding it anymore.
“Yeah...I noticed,” she said placidly.
Dawn reared back in astonishment. “Wait! You didn’t deny it this time!”
“Nope.”
A piercing gasp made Marianne cringe before Dawn shrieked: “DOES THIS MEAN YOU’RE ACTUALLY ADMITTING YOUR FEELINGS?!”
“Not if you’re gonna be annoying about it!” Marianne snapped, though she had to bite her tongue to keep from snickering at the flash of genuine panic on Dawn’s face followed by her pitiful attempt to physically contain her joy.
“Okay! Okay!” Dawn practically squeaked. “Sorry! Sorry!”
She lasted a grand total of six and a half seconds (a new record) before her pursed lips and bouncing knees erupted into an explosive squeal and she threw her arms around her sister’s neck.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Marianne!”
“Why?” The Fairy Queen asked, squirming out of Dawn’s grasp and trying to focus on finishing up with the primer. “Nothing’s happened yet.”
“Not until tonight!” The blonde princess boldly announced before grabbing her sister’s chin in one hand and her expertly selected foundation in the other. “Not until I’m done with you! Let’s make you a goddess! Boggy won’t know what hit him!”
Bog sighed as he stared at his fractured reflection in the old mirror. It was cracked; the result of a violent and self-loathing loss of temper not long after the potion incident.
He’d spent the last few hours being soaked and scoured within an inch of his life and now he was trying to convince himself that it had done any good. His skin felt clean and healthy, not that anyone could see it beneath his armored coating. His scales had been thoroughly scrubbed, but still looked like gray tree bark. His teeth were as brushed as could be but would never be a pearly white and were still terribly crooked. His carefully washed face was still sharp and thin.
In truth, he didn’t think he looked any different.
Any better.
A voice inside argued that it didn’t matter. Marianne liked him anyway. She wasn’t the least bit put off by his outward appearance.
As a friend yes, but what about as a......a lover?
Dragging his recently filed claws down his face, he tried to steady his nerves. He had no idea what to expect from this evening. Part of him dreaded the conversation they needed to have, and yet he found himself craving the definitive clarification it would bring. That strange pull between them had been identified at long last, and now, once and for all, he would know if she felt (and wanted) it too.
One thing was for sure, he was determined not to let history repeat itself. If Marianne rejected him, he would take it on the chin like a true warrior. He would not sever their alliance nor hole himself and his subjects up in the Dark Forest for years again. No, he would respect her decision no matter how much it hurt because...
.
.
.
...because the pain of being without her altogether would be absolutely unbearable.
“Sire?” Thang’s hesitant voice inquired from the doorway. “It’s time to get dressed.”
Bog squared his shoulders and schooled his broken expression to look far more stern than the fluttering terror in his chest wanted to convey.
“Alright,” he grunted, turning away to his aide.
Let’s do this.
“Am I good or am I good?” Dawn asked as she strutted and preened next to Marianne before the ornate full length mirror.
The brunette was clothed in her golden-amber gown which brilliantly contrasted with the deep purple of her wings and (since Dawn had insisted on some familiarity to but both Bog and Marianne more at ease) her signature eyeshadow and lipstick. Matching short glovelettes, a diamond raindrop necklace and pair of earrings completed the picture.
The self-satisfied blonde designer was resplendent in a strapless dress with a fitted bodice, a scoop neck and a high-low hemline on the skirt. Her sunset pink wings seemed to glow against the deep nighttime blue of her gown and the over-layer of spider lace sparkled like stars, adding to the effect. Her necklace, earrings, and bracelets were gleaming pearls.
In short, the royal sisters looked utterly stunning.
“You are very good.” Marianne readily agreed; she hardly recognized herself.
Since the Roland incident, she hadn’t cared too much about her appearance. Sure, she made efforts when necessary, she had a responsibility as queen after all, but she’d found herself most at ease when she wore her simple training tunic and boots. She hadn’t realized it then, but in reality, it wasn’t because she didn’t care how she looked, it was because she was trying to hide. Nothing destroyed your self esteem quite like getting cheated on.
Now, gazing at this...this vision in the glass, for the first time in she knew not how long, she felt...
.
.
.
...completely beautiful.
And if Bog didn’t want her heart the way she wanted his, then...she would still know the truth. She was a lovely, desirable and capable female.
Besides, if it wasn’t meant to be, it just wasn’t meant to be. They would still be the best of friends, no matter what. Of that she was certain! Her wonderful friendship with Bog would be pried from her cold, dead fingers before she’d let it end.
“You ready?” Dawn then asked with a bright grin, hooking her arm though Marianne’s elbow just as the distant clock struck the twilight hour.
Thoughts dispersed, Marianne dumbly nodded to hide the nervous flipping in her stomach as they both made their way to the stairs heading for the main foyer to begin greeting guests.
And outside the window, sitting in one particular carriage in the slow moving line coming up the hill below to the Fairy castle, sat a trembling and helpless little elf.