Dancing Night

Parties are very important to faeries. Whatever the occasion, merriment is a must. If it’s a funeral, jokes and funny stories about the now-passed person are told over drinks, followed by a grand wake with cheers and dancing. It’s not like they don’t mourn. You’ve heard the many legends and myths about those that waste away with grief and wander forever as vengeful spirits, or those go mad and sell their souls for a chance to get their loved ones back. Of course faeries mourn, just like we do. They can’t dance away their grief as easy as that.

Before faeries dance, they sing.

With nearly all kinds instruments under the sun, with every voice in the kingdom joining in, they sing. It can get a little hectic. The sound reminded me of an orchestra warming up, and not all the voices were on the same pitch. As I said, faeries aren’t perfect. Once they got going, however, the feeling I got from their songs was overwhelming, even if a lot of them were sung in their own language. The celebration I witnessed that afternoon and evening was not only to welcome and congratulate Donal as the new king, but also to mourn the death of his father, and the loss of the good, fake version of Brand that they’d all been seeing. Songs were written and sung to convey these feelings. We would have been mourning Jinge too, if he wasn’t still alive.

“Don’t tell me you already wrote a song for me.” Jinge said to Donal, looking a bit horrified as we were on our way to the city outside of the castle.

“No, not at all. Of course not. We had far too much going on at the time.” Donal assured him, while avoiding his gaze.

“I had some funny stories prepared.” Ciaran added, grinning while Jinge glared at him. We walked with the crowd, out of the city, and into a large, grassy field with several bonfires were it, where it looked like the entire population of the faerie kingdom had gathered.

The written music and lyrics of each song were distributed via those handy magic mirrors so everyone could follow along. We sang as the sun set in beautiful orange and red hues, and then under the light of the stars. Ciaran told me later that lights and colors are more bright and vivid in the faery world because of the magical barrier that hides it. As a happy, unintended result, the stars are even more gorgeous under their sky.

When I die, I want my life to be celebrated under a sky like that.

The songs of mourning were followed by happier tunes, cheering on Donal’s bravery, cleverness, and victory. The public opinion of him and his ideals had been highly controversial before, and no doubt it would continue that way for years, but it was clear that he’d earned their respect. They praised the way he’d harnessed the raw power of fire, and made creatures of darkness his obedient friends.

“That’s one way to look at it.” Jinge said wryly, with Sol tucked in his arms as a cat.

As he heard himself sung about, Donal’s face steadily got redder and redder, and he stumbled over the words. Ciaran wasn’t mentioned much in the songs-- and he seemed to prefer that-- but there had been one of the sadder songs that we sang with his name on it, titled: “Brother.”

After the singing, the faeries danced. The instruments were played in one large group on one end of the field, and the faeries danced around the bonfires. The kinds of dances varied, but if you’re interested in what it looked like, I’d describe it as a mixture of ballroom, Scottish and Irish traditional, square dancing, the circular dance from the movie “Tangled” and overall, a good workout. No one minds if you mess up, they just laugh and pull you back into the right step.

The other important factor of merriment in a faery celebration is food, and the food there was fantastic. I’m happy to say that I had a part in its preparation.

In the morning of that day, I went to the kitchens and found that none of the bakers for the morning shift had shown up. Why? Because they’d all been sound asleep while the Faery King did battle, and were now crowded around one mirror in the dining hall and finding out what had gone on. I didn’t know that, however, so I took requests for breakfast and began searching the kitchen for ingredients. The bakers joined me soon enough, and, recognizing me as the human girl in the video that had aided their new king, they accepted me in their kitchen like I was a famous chef.

Even though I’m not famous, I’m still quite good, and we worked surprisingly well together. Breakfast was done before any of our gallant heroes came to eat, so they joined me at the table, where I was already digging into some scrumptious stuffed French toast. Not long after they were finished, Donal was bombarded with the detailed duties of being a king, and he dragged his unwilling cousin and bodyguard with him.

I had nothing to do, being left alone, so I aided in the preparations of the night’s celebration. The other group of chefs made the main courses, so we were in charge of dessert (the best job ever!). We made cakes, pies, cookies, candy, fruit tarts-- including dessert pizza, and also a bunch of French pastries (the names of which elude me). When I was pulling the oatmeal cookies out of the oven, one of the bakers brought me a certain platter.

“Be sure you only put the king’s favorites on this one. Once you set the food on, it never runs out.”

“Never?” I asked incredulously.

“Not until you wash it, no.” Her eyes wrinkled up in a smile. “We haven’t used this for him since his last birthday party.”

We piled that platter with all the desserts on the favorites list, and while it made me happy to do so, all I could think of was how much I hoped Donal wouldn’t eat too much and become sick. It didn’t stop me from wanting him to try them, though.

“Here, Donal!” I said, waving him towards the platter after he came back from a dance. “I made those.”

He smiled and took one. After one bite, the Faery King looked at me, shocked. Immediately, he took my hand and went down on one knee.

“Hey now,” Ciaran said warningly from the other side of the table.

“Madam,” Donal began earnestly. “Now that I am king, please do me the honor of baking in my kitchens.”

I blinked at the strange proposal. “Sorry?”

“I love your cookies beyond any that I have ever tasted. Please say that you’ll stay and make them for me.”

“Your highness, are you offering me a job?” I laughed.

“The very highest position in my eyes.” He nodded solemnly.

I smiled at his sincerity. “It would be my pleasure to bake for you.”

“Yes!” Donal jumped up, shoved two more cookies in his mouth, and danced off again with a pretty faery girl.

“He’s going to make himself sick.” Ciaran observed, coming to stand next to me. “So you are going to stay here?”

Since I had just taken a job in the faery world, his words shouldn’t have jolted me with such abruptness, but they did. In that single jolt, the merry sight before my eyes seemed unfamiliar, and the music strange. I noticed that there weren’t only faeries dancing around the fires, but wild, fabulous creatures, like nymphs, dryads and pixies. I looked up at Ciaran, and his normally handsome face now seemed like that of a stranger’s. What had I been doing before I came here...?

“You should stay here.” he said cheerfully, nudging me with his elbow. “You’ll like it. You can bake in the mornings, and we’ll play during the day, and--”

“Argh!” I interrupted him. “It’s Tuesday, right? I forgot, I have homework due today! I have to get back!” Interfering faeries! I panicked. I had all A’s, too!

“But, Ashlyn, it’s already nine o’clock!” Ciaran stopped me as I tried to run. “You can catch up tomorrow.”

“Right, right.” I twitched. “I only missed four classes so far, I should still be able to pass, right? Right?”

“Right. And then you’re done after this semester!”

“True! If I pass!”

“You’ll pass, you’ll pass.” My faery tilted up my chin and kissed me. “Stay and dance with me for tonight, Ashlyn.”

“One dance.” I said stubbornly. “Then I have to go back to my apartment and get a proper night’s sleep.” 

“Fine.” he conceded, and pulled me into one of the groups that was already dancing underneath the bright, beautiful night sky.