Chapter Text
Fell’s lip twisted into a scowl as King Rigel helped Queen Leila to her feet with the slightest hint of a gentle smile that they never would have expected to see on the deadly assassin’s face prior to his marriage. The soon-to-be Empress smiled stunningly at him before pressing a playful but short kiss to her husband’s lips, then let him escort her towards the door. The two of them were disgustingly sappy, irritatingly happy. How was it that the two of them had managed to snatch everything they could want out of life with such ease, when he and the rest of the monarchs had to scratch and grasp for everything they had, and fight hard to keep it?
And yet in the privacy of his own mind even he had to acknowledge that the half fae queen drew him, fascinated him in a way that scared him. It was her sheer impossibility, he thought. No one could so completely take control of their court in such a short time, then rise to Fae Representative before going after the title of Empress in just a few short years. Despite all of his disbelief, in contrast to all of fae history that spoke to its unlikelihood, she’d done it.
It was just as well that the only time that he saw Queen Leila anymore was the Fae Ring meetings. She was too busy consolidating her power to come to many other events. So his mind said, but he still found himself considering reasons to request a meeting. She’d formed her bond to the realm, and hadn’t needed much in the way of help since. He had problems - who didn’t? - some of which probably could have been elevated to her attention, but his pride had so far prevented him from doing any such thing.
He pushed back from the table and turned away, refusing to watch the love fest that was the Night Monarchs. It made something twist uncomfortably in his chest to see them, and he hated the feeling. He knew it was jealousy. And why wouldn’t he be jealous? Their court was flourishing in a way that didn’t seem possible after magic’s decline of the past few decades. He’d only been a kid back when it started its current nose dive, had grown up in a world that was swiftly giving way to fear with no sign of reversal. He didn’t know what it was to live like they did, without fear and unconcerned with their own vulnerability.
He ignored a Seelie monarch that tried to get his attention and blew out the door. The other fae could make an appointment if she thought it was that important. His steward, Lord Oir, fell in behind him as he left the room. The fae lord was fortunately discreet, and rarely made himself known if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. It allowed Fell to maintain the facade that he didn’t need such aid, when the truth was that he would be hard pressed to keep up with all of his work without the steward. That fact made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable, and his paranoia forced him to check the other fae’s work every couple of weeks to ensure he found no signs of upcoming betrayal. The previous years of loyalty only allowed him so much peace of mind.
The half troll (don’t ask how that worked, Fell had no intention of contemplating it) who was his driver, Dwill, saw them coming and stepped smartly to open the door for him. Oir slid in the other side just before Dwill got into his seat and started up the vehicle. Fell kept the half troll because his appearance was intimidating, but the man had little magic of his own. Fell’s own power kept him assured that if need be he could easily handle the two currently in the vehicle with him.
“Anything to report?” He asked Oir grudgingly as the car smoothly accelerated onto the road away from the Curia Cloisters.
“Lady Gilde and Lord Falstin have submitted a request for you to arbitrate a land dispute at your earliest convenience, there was an incident with one of the griffins that has made a nest a little too close to the castle, and your fitting for the your outfit for the Summer’s End Ball has been scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.” Oir dutifully relayed.
“Ugh.” His breath released in a frustrated hiss. Why couldn’t his nobles just figure some of this out without involving him in every little argument? The deeds for all lands were precise, they had to be with fae involved. As for the griffin, he would have to send someone with animal magic to deal with it. He had next to no connection with them, to the point he was not at all confident that they wouldn’t attack him if he approached.
“This tailor had better actually know his business this time.” He grumbled, instead of voicing his other thoughts. The last tailor he'd employed on staff had been acceptable… until he’d attempted to jab Fell with a poisoned needle. That brownie was in Ghast now, as Queen Leila generally disapproved of executions as punishment but Fell was unwilling to let him run loose with only an exile. Oir had yet to find a replacement that could maintain the same standard as that previous employee, and of course Fell wanted to look flawless for that particular event.
It was only part of being fae to want to appear picturesque, but he admitted to himself that he wanted to draw attention. That Night Queen had taken the spotlight off of all of the rest of them, and unless she faltered or failed to attend she would once again be all anyone noticed if he did not change something. It would be nice to gain her attention especially, along with everyone else’s. Perhaps there was something of the Autumn Court’s he could take advantage of, something to make her as jealous as he was of her…
Oir was oblivious to his internal monologue and had the good sense not to try to answer that statement, instead occupying himself with the tablet in front of him. “You have an opening in your schedule Friday morning. Shall I set that time for the land dispute?”
Fell waved a hand dismissively. “Fine.” It wouldn’t really take long. He’d walk in with his magic activated, they would cower before him, and within minutes would come to the agreement they both already knew in their minds they would accept. It was merely a show, as it always was.
His mind picked up where he had left off. Was there anything he had or could get that could cause such an upset and ideally make the half fae queen jealous? She loved animals, but as grand as it would be to arrive astride one of his griffins it simply wasn’t an option. He felt a cold pang in his chest. He didn’t know where to begin to repair that relationship, or if it was even possible.
He had access to a number of powerful artifacts, but anything showy wouldn’t be allowed in and Leila didn’t seem impressed by sheer power anyway. Was there really nothing he could do beyond try to look his best? He thought back over the past few years and all the changes that had been made during that time. It seemed like it had all started with the vampire Eminence and his… wizard wife, whom he had brought to this very ball some years ago.
A lady by his side would certainly attract attention. He tapped his knee thoughtfully. He’d avoided any romantic attachments, they were too easy to take advantage of and he didn’t have the same requirements to rule as the Night Court did. But if he was very careful, perhaps he could make use of someone for that single event, sow rumor without actually making any commitment.
The Autumn King looked out the window and suddenly frowned, his hackles immediately rising as he realized that this was not the route they usually took back to his mansion. He touched the expensive wristwatch artifact on his wrist for reassurance before addressing the concern.
“Where are we going?” He demanded, ready to activate his magic.
Dwill glanced up at his rearview mirror, then back to the road. “You mentioned a desire to visit Queen’s Court when we left this morning.”
“Queen’s Court?” He queried, still scowling and at the ready.
“Queen’s Court Cafe, or as you referred to it ‘that coffee shop of the Night Queen’s that everyone’s so taken with’.” Oir answered, his voice calm even though his eyes darted to Fell’s artifact. “You did say something about it, but I do not believe you specified that you wished to go there today.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty.” Dwill murmured contritely. “However, we are here should you wish to take advantage of the mistake.”
Fell grunted as they turned into the drive and the angle of the pavement made the vehicle bump up a bit. Dwill parked the car in the tiny parking lot outside of the even tinier shop and left the car idling while he waited for his king’s response. Fell had indeed made some such comment, and had been meaning to have a look at the shop for some time now.
He stared at the building, small and quaint and the last place he would ever expect a fae monarch to frequent. Leila had made a habit of defying expectations since the moment she’d stepped into her role, however, so he really shouldn’t be surprised. He’d more than half a mind to just leave, but his curiosity got the better of him.
The fae king got out and Oir was only half a moment behind him. He didn’t look back at the blond fae lord that trailed him, choosing instead to feign confidence in this unusual choice. He rather hoped the place was empty, the last thing he needed was a bunch of star struck humans mucking the trip up. They would, too. Humans were so predictably distracted and dazzled by the beauty that all of his kind could and would wield as skillfully as they did their words and magic.
A gaggle of humans stepped out the door, setting a bell jingling just before he reached it. To both his relief and chagrin, they were too busy talking to each other to do more than glance briefly his way. He shot a glare their way, then stepped into the small building and was relieved to see only two people within, both wearing the aprons that marked them as employees.
One was a young blond man with a spray of freckles across his face who appeared to be showing a young woman in a spotless apron something or other with one of the machines. She was watching attentively, a slight smile on her rather pretty face as she completely failed to register Fell’s entrance.
“Sorry, just a sec - whoa. Dude, you look like you came straight from Britain. You one of Leila’s people? We don’t get too many fae from outside her court, but you don’t seem like one of them.” The young man said, glancing up halfway through before asking his questions.
“Hardly.” Fell drawled. He glanced up and around, his eyes drawn to the wall of pictures featuring Queen Leila and her husband, or various members of her staff, menagerie, or humans that enthusiastically smiled or waved at the picture taker. They all looked so disgustingly happy, it almost made him feel sick. He forced his gaze up to the menu instead of staring at the photos.
“Of course.” The male employee muttered, rolling his eyes. “So which court are you from? We’ve had a few from most courts by now, plus a crazy old geezer with a naked cat who doesn’t seem to belong to any of them.”
Fell’s eyes snapped to the astonishingly stupid young man who would describe the most powerful fae in their country that way. The description fit, unfortunately, but no one in their right mind who understood that would say such a thing. Well, perhaps Leila, he amended, but her mind was clearly twisted.
“I am from the Autumn Court.” He answered evenly.
“Ah, yep, that explains a lot.” The young man stood on tiptoes to look over the top of his machine, then turned to actually face them. “The frother looks like it’ll be out of commission for a few minutes at least, but if you’re not set on something that needs frothed milk I’m sure Amara here can take care of you.”
The young woman smiled confidently and flicked a few tiny braids over her shoulder before stepping up to the register. “What can I get you?” She asked.
Fell hesitated. Half of the drink menu might be in another language for all he understood of it, but as he already thought he wouldn’t return to the shop it seemed almost… cowardly to not choose a coffee of some kind. That was what Leila loved about the place, after all, and it was her enthusiasm that had ultimately brought him here.
“Give him a minute.” The guy said, heading for a door that led to some kind of office. “Fae like tea, sometimes it takes them a while to figure out the coffee and half the time they decide to go for a tea after all.”
“You’re fae?” The woman asked, brightening with curiosity.
“It isn’t obvious?” Fell muttered absently as he gazed at the words that meant little to him.
She shrugged. “I’m new to Magiford and there weren’t very many supernaturals where I lived before. I’m not sure yet what to look for.”
He didn’t really care to converse too much with the human, so he redirected. “Any recommendations?” He asked, waving at the menu and turning his eyes to her.
She glanced back at the door the young man was returning through with a couple of tools. “Landon! I haven’t tried most of the menu yet, what do we recommend?”
Landon scoffed. “You haven’t tried any of the coffee yet. Fae usually like tea or tea based drinks like a London Fog. If he wants to go coffee, suggest a washed one to start with.” The young man rattled off half a dozen flavor combinations, and Fell picked one at random just to get the whole experience over with.
“And for your friend?” Amara turned her smile towards Oir, who looked up with a confused expression on his face.
“I do not require a beverage.” He stated, before turning his attention back to his work.
Amara raised an eyebrow. “Okay then. I’ll just get started on yours, I guess.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask, Amara, why’d you choose to work here when you don’t even like coffee?” Landon asked as he removed a panel from the machine he was working on.
“I like the smell of it!” She responded defensively. “Besides, I already knew Rhonda and knew she'd be a great boss. It’s also close to my place and she said you get a lot of supernaturals in here.”
“Hmm, bad luck you’re stuck with me while she gets that second location up and running.” Landon responded, his attention on cleaning out his machine.
Fell internally scoffed. Humans were too easily fascinated with supernaturals and magic. It was one of the down sides of only showing them the best of what their community had to offer. He was aware the alternative was not good, but it was tiring to deal with the wide eyed members of the non-magical people.
His fingers tapped on the counter, then stilled as he returned to his earlier thoughts while he waited. If he decided to ask someone to accompany him to the Summer’s End Ball, who? Not a fae, he knew immediately, not without a very detailed contract. Not a vampire, a misunderstanding with one of them could be deadly. The thought of a werewolf made him shudder, and honestly any liaison with another race could turn very bad very quickly.
He would have to discard the idea, he thought, until his eyes settled again on the woman as she set his drink in front of him. His impression of humans was that they were generally awestruck and cheerful as long as they weren’t threatened. The Summer’s End Ball would be dazzling, and weapons were forbidden. At worst a human might get a glimpse of some interracial tension, but they would be in no real danger.
If he were careful and it were someone like this woman, who knew little of his kind, he may even manage to avoid raising any hopes while still attracting the attention he desired. In fact… his gaze took in the young woman more completely. She was pretty enough for a human, and he thought her skin tone would look stunning with autumn colors. It was all the better that she was employed somewhere he didn’t really intend to return to.
He took a sip of his beverage, then raised his eyebrows in surprise at the flavor. It wasn’t tea, but perhaps this was one of the few things Leila wasn’t completely insane for loving. He let a smile spread across his face as he made a rather impulsive decision.