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Chapter Text

The Bog King was furious, his anger clouding his judgment as he stormed across the stage, belting out a song he had heard and quite enjoyed during a foray into the human world. It felt fitting to give the assembled fairies and elves what they wanted, his presence.

After all, he kept to himself, within the confines of the Dark Forest. Bog kept his trolls, goblins, and various other denizens of the darkness under his control, in his forest. They were never allowed to trouble the fairies or elves as a sign of a mutual understanding that Bog expected the same treatment. He had even made this clear to the king of the fairies, Dagda. He and his people remained in their kingdom, and the fairies and elves remained in theirs.

Bog sang like he did it every day, and in truth, on good days, he would, when nobody could hear him. They baited him out of his forest, and he took it, enraged, furious, insulted. And now? He sang for them, a song he knew was eerie and intimidating. The looks on their faces were precisely what he wanted to see, fear. They needed to be afraid. These people with their constant frivolous parties and dances. They needed to be frightened, and they needed to be reminded to stay out of his forest.

Still, there was a moment he sighed inside, as he turned and saw two children on the stage, momentarily frozen to where they stood. They took one look and screamed, fleeing. Their reaction was a little too pure, genuinely terrified at the sight of him, and it hurt. Fear. That’s what he had wanted, right? Yes. He wanted them afraid, but to be honest, scaring defenseless children did not exactly fill him with accomplishment.

It hurt.

The feisty fairy who had charged him squirmed, glaring at him with eyes lit up with embers. Two hefty trolls were bearing her down on the stage, but she still fought, the sword she had gone after him with embedded in the stage within hands reach. Bog didn’t break his song, striding across the stage to grasp the sword by its hilt, tossing it a little further out of her reach.

She took him by surprise, this unarmored female fairy with her dark blue wings. Bog tried not to pay too much attention to her, even though he purposely positioned himself to keep an eye on her. Her face was contorted into a mask of rage toward him, golden-brown eyes lit up in the middle of dark eye shadow.

The presence of the fairy king was the only thing that caused recognition of who this fairy woman was. They had met before, only she didn’t look like that the last time he saw her years earlier during a meeting with her father. It was only a glimpse, but she and her sister were just another couple of annoying fairy girls, not worthy of his attention. Princesses. How he loathed them and their annoyingly spoiled existence.

Fairies. Bog had no time for these people. Why couldn’t they understand the rules? Why did they not understand that he kept the Sugar Plum Fairy under lock and key for a valid reason? Nobody deserved the horror of her love potion, whether it worked or not. It was wrong, and he took responsibility for keeping everyone safe.

*

Sunny stared at the spectacle going on before him, holding the uncorked bottle of love potion behind his back. The goblins had swarmed the stage as he was stepping up behind Dawn, who was now shivering in fear at the creatures standing so close to her. They were mostly ignoring her, as long as she stayed still.

Dawn whimpered, holding her wings close to her back, attempting to get closer to her sister, but the goblins behind her snarled and loomed over her, indicating she shouldn’t move. Still, Sunny crept closer, unsure of what he could do. Maybe he could make a diversion? He wasn’t sure, but at the moment, he was between Marianne and Dawn, the fearsome Bog King a short distance away, performing for his captive audience.

Sunny looked around for Roland. The typically strutting male fairy was nowhere to be seen. He had been right next to Dawn. Whimpering, Sunny scooted another step closer. Because he was so small, it appeared the goblins were just ignoring him as not a threat and not worth taking captive.

*

“I’ve been trespassed and invaded,” Bog sang, swinging his scepter from the king on one of the stage, to his daughters in turn, intending for them to know they were his targets. They were the ones responsible for not keeping their people in line and one of them was coming home with him to hold until they rectified their error. “And I am not amused.”

“I’ve been insulted!” Bog turned his back to the princesses, spinning back around to face their father, whose face was completely drained of all color, his mouth agape. Good. That’s what Bog wanted, for them to understand the seriousness of what they allowed to happen. “Disrespected! I’ve been mistreated!” And he lifted his scepter like he was singing into it, beginning to enjoy his performance. He spun again, his wings rasping behind him.

“King Dagda, return the love potion before moon down!” he landed and snarled at the fairy king, backing toward the princesses, intending on taking one of them. The choice was obvious, not the fierce one. She would be too much trouble. “I will hold your youngest daughter until then!”

Without thinking about how close he was coming, Bog loomed down into Marianne’s face, grinding his teeth in a threatening manner, wanting to see her flinch back, but she didn’t. Instead, she wrestled a fist free and, with extraordinary strength, smashed it into Bog’s jaw.

Caught by surprise, his head rocked to the side, and he blinked, rubbing a hand over his jaw in astonishment. Impressive. This female fairy was very impressive. The words flew through his mind as he sought to reclaim the upper hand. Striking him, meant he had to hit her back. He didn’t want to, but there was no choice in the matter as he snarled and lifted his scepter, intending on bringing it down on her shoulder, someplace it would hurt, but most likely not seriously harm her.

“No!” Sunny shouted, “Take me instead! I have the love potion!” He held up the open bottle and started forward.

Bog turned and stepped toward Sunny at the same time Marianne freed herself. She stumbled forward in front of Bog, rushing to her sister as Bog walked toward the elf. The sudden movement in front of him, made Bog react with a snarl, lunging for the potion.

Startled, Sunny tripped over his feet and threw his hands out, sending the entire bottle of love potion into the air. Marianne grabbed her sister, pushing her a few steps away.

“No!” Bog shouted, not thinking as he grabbed for the bottle and ended up with a face full of the potion. It flew everywhere, and the Bog King sneezed violently, whirring his wings to dissipate the dust.

The empty bottle clattered to the ground and rolled, disintegrating into a cloud of white sparkles now that it no longer contained any potion. The music died as the goblins stared at their king. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on him as he stood frozen, his own eyes open wide as he gazed at the two princesses with a perplexed expression. A moment before, his blue eyes were cold glinting pieces of ice beneath a dark brow, now they were open wide, gleaming with intense brightness.

What was going on? What happened? Everything seemed so vivid and bright, these two beautiful young women standing before him. What was he doing? Bog blinked, recalling he was singing. He was singing to them.

And he began singing again, the same song, but it changed. “I’ve been mistreated…” Bog gazed at both princesses, his voice starting low and rising with intensity. “I’ve been abused. I’ve been struck downhearted, baby, I’ve been confused.”

Marianne made a face at him as he came closer, moving protectively in front of her sister, who wrapped her arms around her and attempted to hide behind her wings.

“I’ve been lonely, I’ve been cold, I’ve been looking for a woman to have and hold.” The words came out in a pleading tone as Bog stopped before them, bowing and holding out his hand, his eyes meeting Marianne’s.

“Get back,” Marianne growled in response, moving a step away.

“I’ve been mistreated, I’ve been abused.” Bog’s voice came out soulfully sad, his hand still held out as he lowered himself further. His eyes. Marianne’s anger suddenly fell away, realizing the Bog King was under the full effect of the love potion. Up close, his eyes were dilated, gleaming such a shade of blue that it was disarming.

“Okay, now, just back away, Bog King.” She glanced around for her sword, and Bog followed her eyes, seeing it at the same time. Without hesitation, he flew to her sword, withdrew it from the stage, and returned to her, bowing to present it to her across both palms.

“Uh.” Marianne knit her eyebrows together, realizing in his current condition, the danger had passed, however, now they had a new problem. “Thank you.” She took her sword, and he rose up proudly, smiling at the acknowledgment, wings humming gently.

“Bog! You need to leave and take your goblins with you!” King Dagda huffed, storming across the stage, the goblins who had been holding him having backed off, staring in astonishment as their king appeared to lose his mind.

“Go home!” Bog turned, shouting at his goblins. Their mouths dropped open and they looked at each other, completely confused. “Go home!” Bog repeated furiously, his pauldrons raising in annoyance that he hadn’t been listened to immediately.

“That includes you,” stated Dagda, folding his arms, his pair of guards flanking him, hands on their sword hilts.

“Dad, he was hit by the love potion,” groaned Marianne. “The entire bottle.” Dawn nodded from behind her sister.

Bog turned to Dagda, bowing low, something which stunned the old king. In his previous encounters with the Bog King, he was usually formal but also curt and didn’t waste words. “King Dagda, I request permission to court yer daughters.” Bog asked the question quickly, without any signs of reserve.

“What?” Dagda gaped at Bog. “Dawn is too young for marriage, and Marianne has a suitor.”

“Dad, I do not,” moaned Marianne, running her hand over her face. “And I don’t want one either!”

“Oh.” Bog hung his head sadly, then he lifted it quickly with a smile. “Then I will watch them and keep them safe.”

“You can’t do that, you’re the King of the Dark Forest, Bog.” Dagda pointed out with a sigh. “You need to return to your kingdom. That is where you belong, not here.”

“I love them.” Bog sighed heavily, a wistful look on his face. “I can not leave them.”

“Okay, the Sugar Plum Fairy makes love potions. She’s his captive, so we just need to get him to go back to his castle and get her to make an antidote.” Marianne began formulating a plan, glancing around the stage, where she saw various elves and fairies gathered, staring at the Bog King. Sunny stood with them, looking extremely nervous.

“Antidote? I am not poisoned,” stated Bog.

“You might as well be,” groaned Marianne. Bog smiled at her, gazing through half-lidded eyes.

“What is yer name, goddess of the evening?” Bog bowed again.

Marianne groaned even louder. “Marianne.”

“And yours, morning flower?” Bog motioned to Dawn, who giggled in response, stepping out from behind her sister.

“I’m Dawn!” She stepped forward, fluttering her wings and taking Bog’s hand. He lifted it to politely kiss it.

“A lovely name for a beautiful woman.” Bog smiled, and Dawn giggled more. Both Dagda and Marianne groaned in response, with Marianne coming up behind her sister and grabbing her by the shoulders.

“He’s not so scary,” whispered Dawn, still tittering.

“Stay away from him,” growled Marianne protectively.

“Is there anything I can do for ye, Marianne?” Bog bowed once again, making an offer.

Marianne smiled, spotting a bit of gleaming green armor hidden behind a leaf near the stage. Roland was watching them. “You know what, there is something you can do for me, Bog King.”

“What is it?” Bog leaned toward her, an eager glint in his eyes, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Marianne.” Dagda followed Marianne’s gaze to Roland’s hiding place.

“See that fairy in the green armor.” Marianne stepped forward, taking Bog’s hand, making him turn with her. She pointed, grinning. “That is my ex-suitor.” Marianne whispered as Bog leaned in close. “I do not want him anywhere near me. Can you take care of him?”

“Marianne!” Dagda gasped, overhearing the conversation.

“Don’t kill him.” Marianne rolled her eyes and gave Bog a gentle push in Roland’s direction, hoping to get rid of both of them with that action.

Bog snarled, leaping off the stage, staff raised to get rid of the ‘rival’. One slash took out the stem of the leaf Roland hid behind, the next strike smashed into the ground where he had stood. With a yelp, Roland back winged as fast as he could and fled into the darkness with Bog close behind.

Marianne laughed, folding her hands across her stomach at the look on Roland’s face. Dagda sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Marianne, you can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Marianne continued laughing.

“It’s not right,” grumbled Dagda. “He’s not in control of himself.”

“Oh, I think he deserves it.” Marianne smiled at her father. “He’s such a nasty fairy. He was going to hit me, Dad! And he was going to kidnap Dawn!”

Dagda gave his daughter a sad look. “Be nice, because it’s likely that potion will wear off at some point and we shouldn’t insult him.”

“Is he going to follow us home?” Marianne held her sword up, turning it so the blade glinted in the moonlight. “Is he… dangerous?”

“Normally, he minds his own business,” stated Dagda, tapping Marianne on the shoulder to make her turn. “He’s coming back. I’ll make sure there are extra guards posted around you and Dawn.”

“Hello again!” Dawn waved cheerily to Bog as he landed on the stage and strode proudly across it to stop in front of Marianne.

“I informed him he is not allowed anywhere near ye,” stated Bog with a smile, looking from Dawn to Marianne. “Is there anything else I can do for ye? Anything?” The eager to please look made Marianne wince. She had to look away because her father was right.

“Dad?” Marianne grimaced. “What do we do with him?”

“Bog,” sighed Dagda. “You are under the effects of a love potion. Do you understand that what you’re feeling is not real?”

Bog tilted his head, staring at the Fairy King. “Isn’t real? It feels real.” A goofy look spread over Bog’s face. “Love is so wonderful.”

“No, it is not!” Marianne snapped. “Love is awful! I don’t need it, and I don’t need you!” She took to the air, growling as her wings carried her quickly into the darkness.

“She’s going home,” stated Dagda. “Come with us. We’ll set you up with someplace to stay until this wears off.” Bog nodded forlornly until Dawn reached out and took his hand.

“It’s okay,” Dawn spoke soothingly, wrapping her fingers around one of his. “Don’t look so sad, Boggy.”

“It’s Bog.” He smiled at her affectionately.

Dagda sighed, “Remember, Bog, you are too old for Dawn, and she is too young for you.”

“I understand.” Bog nodded. “But, Marianne is okay?”

“Honestly, stay away from Marianne too,” muttered Dagda. “This will wear off soon, I’m sure. I hope.” He turned, motioning for Bog to follow him.

“I don’t want it to go away,” whispered Bog, his eyes wide as Dawn smiled at him.

Chapter Text

Dawn twirled around the room Dagda offered Bog, a guest room on their family floor. The room was next to Dagda’s room, and he gave him explicit instructions not to leave the room until morning. Bog looked around the brightly lit room, finding the lighting harsh and glaring. In his own castle, the lighting was soft, warm, welcoming.

“Do you need anything?” Dawn inquired politely.

“No.” Bog smiled at her, but his eyes held a troubled light. “Is yer sister back?”

“Do you want to talk to her?”

“I would like to see her, yes, to say good night.” Bog fidgeted with his fingers.

“I’ll go look for her!” Dawn bounced out of the room, leaving Bog by himself.

Bog clasped his hands together, trying to sort through his thoughts. He could only think about Dawn and Marianne. Trying to think about anything else made his ears ring, and his head buzz like it was a hive full of bees. His ability to hold onto any thoughts outside of the two princesses was impossible. He wanted to see them, talk to them, just be around them.

He had a difficult time remembering who he was. Bog ran a hand over his head and down the back of his neck. This was wrong. It was all wrong. What was wrong? A voice was screaming somewhere deep inside that this was wrong, and now that the princesses were out of sight, he could hear it. What was wrong?

Bog racked his brain, thinking hard, but the only thing he could think of was it was wrong that he couldn’t see either of the princesses. They were both gone, and he needed to look for them. They could be in trouble.

*

Marianne scowled at her sister, angrily eating a piece of fruit. “Marianne, go and tell him good night.” Dawn pleaded sweetly. “He’s so sad!”

“I don’t care,” snorted Marianne in response, taking a bit bite of the berry in her hands.

“Why are you being so mean to him?” Dawn pouted. “He’s our guest.”

“He tried to kidnap you,” groaned Marianne.

“Okay, I’ll tell him not to expect you,” grumbled Dawn, turning to leave.

“No. I’ll go see him and let him know how things are going to be.” Marianne rose, wiping berry juice off her face.

*

Bog was pacing when Marianne stepped through the open door to his room. His wings buzzed behind him, and he looked upset. Marianne cleared her throat, letting him know she was there.

“Marianne!” The amount of glee in the Bog King’s eyes when he looked at her was disarming. He seemed truly happy to see her as he turned and bowed. She stood in the doorway, staring at him, uncertain about what to do.

“My sister said you wanted to say good night, and I have a few things to say to you.” Marianne strolled into the room, hands clenched into fists, her voice stern.

“I love ye,” stated Bog, rising up to his full height. “I love ye, Marianne.”

“No, you don’t.” Marianne rolled her eyes at the proclamation. “It’s the love potion, Bog. You don’t even know me.”

“I would like to get to know ye.” Bog bowed his head politely, tucking his hands in front of him, curling his fingers in an effort to make himself less threatening.

“You’re our guest until this works out of your system,” stated Marianne. “You’re too easy to manipulate, and I don’t want to do that to you. You’re probably going to be furious when this is over.”

Bog nodded slowly, gazing at her. He gave her a drunken smile, “Ye are beautiful.”

“I am not,” groaned Marianne. “It’s just the potion making you blind. Trust me, you would not be attracted to me if it wasn’t for the potion. Nobody would be.”

“How, how can ye say that?” Bog gasped, eyes widening. His voice dropped low, in a soft growl. “Yer hair is like a ripened field of wheat, wild and golden. Yer face, is a vision, with yer amber-lit brown eyes, eyelashes so thick and dark. And yer mouth, it’s…” Bog stopped himself, barely. Despite the fact he could see he was making Marianne uncomfortable, he wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, while a voice inside screamed at him to stop talking.

Marianne’s mouth gaped open at him, her eyes wide and staring at what he was saying. She coughed and licked her lips, backing away from him. “It is the love potion, Bog King. That’s all. You do not love Dawn or me, it’s all fake.” Marianne took a deep breath. “I apologize for what I had you do earlier. It was wrong to use you like that.”

“Use me?” Bog looked bewildered, as though he couldn’t figure out what she was talking about. “I will always protect ye and do whatever it is ye need doing, evening rose.”

Marianne groaned, running her fingers through her hair and tugging on a lock. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Bog. Maybe you’ll be over this in the morning.” She motioned to the bed, backing out of the room. “Good night. I’ll be down the hall, but please, don’t bother Dawn or me until morning.”

“Good night,” whispered Bog, reverently lowering his head.

Marianne closed the door, grimacing at the way Bog looked at her. She didn’t have any experience with love potions, but that look on his face, it seemed so sincere, and his words. They were all lies; however, they were unintentional ones. The Bog King had no control over what he was saying or doing, and it was sad.

Conflicting emotions ran through Marianne, the need to be polite to their love-stricken guest, at the same time, he kept looking at her with those bright, shining blue eyes. Hours before, she had wanted to drive a sword through his chest while he cockily walked around, taking over the elf festival.

What she was seeing wasn’t really the Bog King any more than his feelings of love were real. He was a vicious, selfish monster. There was not an ounce of kindness beneath all that armored plating, teeth, and claws. This was all fake, a reaction to the potion telling him he loved her and her sister.

Marianne entered her room, her thoughts swirling around their problem. She closed the door as it hit her, a thought rising up and pointing out, love potions don’t change a person’s personality. It locks them into a dream state where they act exactly like they would if they were in love. Most of the stories were comical, about fairies doused with the potion giving the object of their affections smothering attention, only able to think of that person they saw first. Typically, anyone who used them regretted it immediately.

This was actually how Bog would be if he were in love with someone, and it was a bizarre thought. It didn’t fit everything she knew about him from the stories and official reports. He was known to be cold, calculating, aloof, not wanting anything to do with fairies. The only kindness he displayed was just to keep on good terms with his neighbors.

Still, those words he said to her in that soft growl, his eyes shining with passion. And he was incredibly polite and considerate. This was what the Bog King really was. He couldn’t lie about who he was under the effects. It was impossible, and it bothered Marianne. Her preconceived notions might be wrong.

He had the capacity to love, and he was ridiculously cute about it.

*

Bog didn’t sleep.

He tried, but the bed was too comfortable, and his nature told him he should be awake, protecting the two females he loved. Instead of sleep, he went out onto the balcony, where he could see everything going on outside the rock. The night was silent, and there were guards on the king’s balcony nearby. He caught the scent of more guards, Dawn and Marianne, wafting on the breeze.

Bog tried to tell himself they were fine. They had guards. He needed to sleep like Marianne told him to. He perched in one of the balcony windows and remained there until morning, catching a few minutes of sleep here and there.

The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky when he heard a rustle of wings coming off one of the balconies and spotted a pair of violet wings gliding away from the rock. Bog stared after her, his wings rustling with the need to follow her. However, he would be leaving Dawn unguarded. He thought the problem over quickly. Dawn was safe here. She had guards. Marianne might not be. She did not have any guards, but she did have him. Bog stepped off the railing and flew after her.

*

Marianne kept to her usual routine. She was up before the sun rose and out of the castle, flying to her favorite training area, a stout log crossing a stream near the castle. She had her sword strapped to her hip and had tied a white piece of cloth over her forehead.

The morning was invigorating, crisp, with the first brilliant colors of dawn streaking over a dark sky. For the moment, she could forget about their little problem a few doors down in the castle. This early in the morning, the people of the Fairy Kingdom were just beginning to stir. She was alone, and she preferred it for her morning practice.

Folding her wings, Marianne landed on the log and pulled the cloth down over her eyes. She began going through practice moves with her sword, a well-rehearsed routine of moves she had picked up observing the soldiers practicing. Over the last year, this was how she had learned to use a sword. Female fairies were never trained, and truthfully, she was the only one who had wanted to learn.

Marianne tried to get the sword trainers to take her in and teach her, but none of them wanted to defy her father, who didn’t forbid it but also didn’t want to encourage it. No, her father wanted Marianne to get through this ‘phase,’ as he called it, come to her senses, and prepare to be a queen and all that entailed. Marianne felt it was a little unfair, but she loved her father. When she eventually became queen, she would change things, at least for herself.

Twirling, jabbing, parrying a fake sword away, Marianne moved up and down the log, blindfolded. Occasionally, she lifted into the air, always coming back down onto the log perfectly. She had done this long enough she could dance up and down the log blindfolded for hours and not slip once.

Marianne struck out as hard as she could, spinning in the air, and her sword hit something with a resounding clang that made her falter as she came down. She corrected by back winging in the opposite direction, a scowl on her face. Someone else was here.

“Ye got good power, but yer form needs work,” stated Bog, reminding her he was around.

Marianne made a face at him, lifting the blindfold up, over her forehead. “I am self-taught.”

“In that case, yer doing quite good,” Bog smiled at her, hovering a few feet away with his staff held out in front of him. “I mean no offense, princess, just that if yer going to use a sword, ye might want professional instruction.”

“Princesses don’t need swords,” snorted Marianne, scowling at him.

Bog blinked, stating the last thing Marianne expected, “Why would anyone say that? Royalty always needs to be able to protect themselves. Ye can’t be expected to wait on someone else to protect ye in a bad situation, can ye?”

“That is what I keep telling my dad!” Marianne exclaimed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Would ye allow me to spar with ye and not be offended if I give ye instruction?” Bog landed on the log, twirling his scepter.

Marianne stared at him for a moment, landing in front of him. Someone wanted to spar with her? And not just anyone, but the King of the Dark Forest, who was known to capably wield a number of weapons, including swords. Nobody had ever offered to spar with her, let alone instruct.

“I understand.” Bog took a step back, lowering his head at her hesitation. His wings drooped, and Marianne sighed.

“Let’s spar.” Marianne smiled, pointing her sword at Bog. “Teach me.”

The smile that lit across Bog’s face was astounding, making Marianne wish he wasn’t under the effects of the love potion. It sent a small ribbon of warmth through her chest that it was her words that put that smile on his face.

*

The effects of the love potion were still strong on Bog, his mind focused on Marianne and Dawn. Continually, he had to push thoughts of needing to return and check on Dawn away. Giving instruction to Marianne was more critical. She wasn’t bad with the sword, actually, she was quite impressive for someone who hadn’t been formally taught, but a few words of instruction from Bog and she was even better, and she knew it.

For Bog, his entire world was Marianne and Dawn, but something was nagging at his thoughts. Occasionally, a voice broke through the fog, telling him he should get away from the princesses, that he did not want to be in love, that he despised the emotion with his entire being. They faded as he interacted with Marianne.

His memories were clouded, but if it was something Marianne needed, those thoughts became clear. Marianne needed instruction, and all of his memories of being taught how to fight erupted within him. This was love for him, teaching the woman he loved to defend herself.

Marianne was in far better spirits than she had been the evening before, most of which was forgotten by Bog. By the time they were done, the sun was well over the horizon, and sweat glistened off both their bodies, and they were breathing hard from the continual sparring, but both had smiles on their faces.

*

They were finishing breakfast in the castle when Dawn got up and sat next to Bog, looping an arm around one of his, “Okay, so you spent time with Marianne this morning now I want you to spend time with me!”

“Okay.” Bog smiled, glancing at Marianne as if asking if it was okay.

“Go ahead.” Marianne made a face at them, swirling her spoon around in a bowl of hot breakfast porridge and fruit. “I’ll be in my room.”

Dagda frowned, not at all comfortable with Dawn being alone with Bog. “Keep your door open and remember, Bog, you are too old for her, and she is too young for you.”

Bog actually looked insulted. “I am not like that.”

“You are still under the effects of the love potion,” groaned Dagda. “How do I know what you are and aren’t like?”

“I would never take advantage of a lady,” snorted Bog in response, rising from the table. Dawn giggled, walking out of the dining room, arm in arm with Bog.

“I believe him.” Marianne tilted her head to her father.

“Why? I saw the two of you come in together, Marianne. What were you doing?” Dagda turned a curious eye to his daughter.

“Sparring.” Marianne smiled. “He taught me a few things.”

“Just what I need,” groaned Dagda, biting into a pastry with a note of anger.

“Love potions don’t alter a person’s personality, they just amplify it and direct it,” stated Marianne thoughtfully. “He can’t think about anything but Dawn and me, but he wouldn’t do anything he wouldn’t normally do, and well, he hasn’t been anything but nice and polite.”

Dagda stared at his daughter in disbelief. “You like him.”

“Haha, no, I do not!” Marianne’s laugh was nervous, her eyes evading her father’s. “I don’t even know him. Not really. But maybe after this, he won’t be as bad?”

“I don’t know,” grumbled Dagda. “I don’t see why he would change his ways, especially not after being embarrassed about this whole situation.”

“Maybe if we’re just nice to him,” mused Marianne, running her fingers over her chin. “Maybe he never wanted much to do with us, because he never got to know us. Maybe he’s… afraid.”

“I doubt there’s anything the Bog King is afraid of,” snorted Dagda. “When it wears off, he’s going to vanish back into his forest and act like it never happened. At least, that’s what I hope happens, because I do not want to deal with an enraged Bog in my castle.”

“Dad, I don’t think he’s going to be like you think he will. Whatever social inhibitions he has, have been temporarily wiped clean by the love potion.” Marianne drummed her fingers on the table. “I remember how he was the last time I saw him, all rigid, stern, and no-nonsense. Maybe that’s a front he puts up to keep everyone away from him and his kingdom.”

“Marianne, take care,” warned Dagda. “You are walking down a path that could lead to disappointment. We do not know Bog at all.”

“But we can,” stated Marianne with a small smile. “Even if he doesn’t really love me, I think we might be able to be friends.”

Dagda blinked at his daughter, taken off guard by the statement and the strange look on her face.

Chapter Text

Bog let Dawn do whatever she wanted, even though it was a downright bizarre experience. The little fairy took him to her room, sat him down in front of her vanity, and began what was probably one of the most pleasant experiences he could imagine. Dawn took his hands and examined them, humming a sweet song the entire time, her slender fingers brushing over his.

The sight of his gnarled fingers and rough hands in hers brought up a sense of embarrassment, but she didn’t seem bothered by them. With a smile, Dawn began cleaning Bog’s nails with a clean cloth and water. He stared as she trimmed the jagged edges to points, filing them down.

“This looks much nicer,” Dawn giggled, thoroughly enjoying the process.

Bog stared down at his nails. They were a little shorter, but more lethal-looking with curving points. They were also shiny now, and all the attention felt good.

“Dawn? You’ve been in here for a while.” Marianne walked through Dawn’s bedroom door and froze. “Just… checking…” Bog had one hand up, examining his nails, while Dawn had the other resting flat on her vanity. She was opening a bottle of glittering silver nail polish. Marianne rushed over, snatching the bottle out of her startled sister’s hand. “Don’t you dare!”

“What?” Bog and Dawn stared at Marianne as she closed the bottle.

“Men do not wear nail polish,” growled Marianne. “Bog would be embarrassed when the love potion wears off!”

“Men don’t have long nails either, but he does,” giggled Dawn, motioning to Bog’s hand on the vanity.

“They’re more claws than nails,” Marianne snorted, leaning over her sister.

“Can I paint your nails, Boggy?” Dawn asked sweetly.

“It’s Bog,” he replied, nodding his head. “Do whatever ye want, Dawn.”

“He said I can do whatever I want!” Dawn smiled up at her sister, holding a hand out for the bottle.

“Of course he’s going to say that, he’s under the influence of the love potion,” Marianne groaned and against her better judgment, handed the bottle over. “Look, if you’re going to paint his nails, do it right. Let’s put down a layer of black over them, so they’re not just glittering.”

Bog watched Marianne walk to the other side of the vanity and rummage through her sister’s things. Dawn giggled, “You know I don’t have any black, Marianne.”

“Right.” Marianne rolled her eyes and flitted around Bog, heading for the door. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Bog stared at his nails. Painting was a foreign concept. Goblins didn’t do this kind of thing. They didn’t need to. Their nails were worn down by foraging, digging, and other such activities. Those weren’t things he did, so his nails were always long and cracked. Oddly, what Dawn did made them more useful for hunting. He was sure that wasn’t the intent.

“Okay, I have black!” Marianne grinned. “Well, plum, it’ll do!” She handed one bottle to Dawn, uncapping a second bottle. “It shouldn’t be so offensive if it’s dark, right, Bog? Remember, you’re under the effects of a love potion, but you said this was okay, so don’t get mad later.”

“Why would I get mad?” Bog smiled at Marianne as she set the bottle down on the vanity and took his hand.

“Honestly, because you’re a guy, and we’re painting your nails while you can’t say no.” A giggle escaped from Marianne, her eyes twinkling. She couldn’t resist. She had to do it.

“I can say no.” Bog stated, staring at her. “I just do not want to.”

“Love potion.” Marianne smiled, resting one hand on the back of Bog’s to keep his fingers flat. She began neatly applying the dark purple polish over the length of Bog’s nails while Dawn did the same to his other hand.

And Bog enjoyed the attention. He didn’t care about what they were doing, merely sitting back and observing the strange ritual. That’s what this was, wasn’t it? Some sort of ritual, because it felt incredible. It was such a small thing, but the pair of princesses took their time to do it right, instructing Bog to keep still while they fanned their wings to get the paint to dry faster.

It was over far too fast, with a glittering application put on last. Part of him was mortified that his nails were shiny, another part thought they looked even more stunning, dangerous, and lethal. But the best part of the experience was that he had both princesses giving him attention.

*

“Okay,” Marianne sighed, leaving Dawn’s room with Bog following close behind. He kept fanning his hands out in front of him, swapping his scepter from one to other, examining his now gleaming nails. “Let’s see about fixing you, Bog. We’re going to go to your home, and you’re going to get the Sugar Plum Fairy to fix you.”

“No,” stated Bog flatly. “We are not. See, I can say no.”

“We are going into your forest, Bog.” Marianne turned and glared at him. “If you love me, you will do what I’m saying”

“No,” Bog repeated with a crooked grin. “I don’t have to do what ye say to love ye.”

Marianne groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Bog King, I would like it very much if you would take me to your castle and show me around.”

“No,” Bog repeated, shaking his head. “It’s not necessary. I will remain here, with ye and Dawn.”

“Okay, then I’m just going to go fly into the Dark Forest and find your castle. You can come with me if you want.” Marianne turned with a scowl, walking away with her wings billowing out behind her.

“No.” Bog stood in her way, and she had to throw her hands up to avoid running into his chest. “The Dark Forest is dangerous. I will keep ye out of it.” Marianne glared up at him, pushing back. “Why would I want this to go away?”

“Because it’s not real!” Marianne snapped at him. “Your feelings are not real, Bog! You need to get the cure then go back to your life, which isn’t here.”

“Why…” Bog’s face fell, his beautiful blue eyes glimmering with sadness. “Why would I want what I feel for ye and Dawn to go away? I’ve never felt like this before.”

“It’s not real.” Marianne tried to step around him, only to run into his arm as he moved to stop her.

“It is real to me,” growled Bog, shifting in her way again.

“Get out of my way.” Marianne tried to get around Bog, but he was fast, much bigger than she was, and stronger. She stopped trying, glaring up at him. “Bog, I want to help you. Don’t you understand?”

“I’m fine,” Bog stated.

Marianne sighed, reaching up to lay a hand on Bog’s chest armor, patting it in thought. “If you’re not an awful person when this wears off, I would like to be friends with you, Bog. You don’t seem so bad, but we’ll never know if the effects of the love potion aren’t removed.”

“We are not going into the Dark Forest under any circumstances.” Bog scowled, tapping the end of his staff on the floor. “There is nothing wrong with me.”

*

For the rest of the day, Bog kept close to both Dawn and Marianne, moreso Marianne. He had to keep her from trying to get to the Dark Forest. Did she try? She did. Several times she left the castle, only to have Bog hunt her down with fantastic speed and catch her before she could reach the border.

He blocked her way, repeatedly, until the pair of them were exhausted with the effort. Bog refused to let her pass, and eventually, they returned to the castle. By nightfall, the attempts ended, with Marianne conceding, it was probably best to just let the potion run its course. She was mad at him, but couldn’t be too angry. Marianne reminded herself that it was the love potion’s fault.

*

Bog laid in the overly comfortable fairy bed, the lights in his room out, examining his nails in the dim light. Over the course of the day, his thoughts had become clearer. He began to remember a few essential things, one being that he was the Bog King, and he hated love, yet his body kept moving him without his permission to be near the princesses.

Princesses, another thing he remembered he didn’t like. However, he did like them, and it wasn’t because of the love potion. Yes, that annoying little thing had caused him to act in ways he would never have, but the effects were fading. No, he developed a real fondness for Dawn, simply because she was kind to him and accepting.

Love was an awful thing, or was it? He had never truly been in love in his entire life. This fake love, it wasn’t real, but the emotions he had felt over the last twenty-four hours were overwhelmingly pleasant.

It was wearing off.

By morning, Bog felt confident it would all clear, then what? He still felt protective urges for both Dawn and Marianne, but they thankfully weren’t as intense. Marianne. He had spent the day sparring with her and blocking her from the Dark Forest, and he had enjoyed every moment of it. Not because of a love potion, no, he just enjoyed their interaction and she was impressive.

Another day. Yes, Bog decided he would carry this on another day. It would be easy to pretend to be love dusted. He just had to act dumb and he could do that. It’s not like any of his own people could see him. One more day. It was worth it to be around Marianne. His thoughts strayed to their sparring early in the morning. She was so stunning. And his heartbeat quickened, a smile spreading over his face.

One more day, then he would leave the following night.

*

Griselda grumbled, making her way into the dungeon. She rarely ventured down there, because it wasn’t part of her domain. They rarely kept prisoners and only had one, one which had escaped and been recaptured the previous evening. It had been twenty-four hours since the goblins returned from the Fairy Kingdom with news that Bog had been love dusted and told them to leave.

Their report was brief and stunning. The potion worked. It actually worked. That was astonishing on its own since it hadn’t worked when Bog tried it, and Griselda looked the other way on the whole situation. Was it wrong to use a love potion? It certainly was, but it was also wrong to pass on a fraud to her sensitive son, destroying all of his desires to ever give real love a chance.

The Sugar Plum Fairy had been Bog’s prisoner for decades now, locked away in a secure, soundproofed part of the dungeon. Truthfully, Griselda had forgotten she was there for a number of years, sleeping in her magical prison. However, now that twenty-four hours had passed and her son had not returned, she had questions.

Griselda wasn’t afraid for Bog, just curious. From the sounds of things, he was stricken for one or both of the princesses. He wasn’t led away in chains, even though he probably deserved it, overcome with the potion’s effects. The fairies wouldn’t harm him, Griselda was sure of it. But what did it mean?

The guard standing near Sugar Plum’s cell looked up and nodded to the Queen Mother. “Open the cell,” commanded Griselda, motioning to the door. “I need to have a word with Sugar Plum.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The guard did as he was commanded, unlocking the door, then pulling it open for Griselda to enter.

Sugar Plum flew around inside her spider web prison, excited after her brief escape and awake. She was not like the other fairies, being a purely magical being, supernatural… and dangerous.

“Plum,” growled Griselda, stepping up close to the small prison. “I need to speak with you.”

“Now you want to speak to me?” The tiny blue fairy zipped around in continual circles, laughing. “Whatever for? Where is Bog?”

“Bog went to retrieve the love potion that you made and ended up hit by it,” grumbled Griselda.

Sugar Plum stopped flying in circles and faced Griselda, her face contorting in mirth as laughter rippled through her entire body. She shook with just how funny it was. “Please, tell me he fell in love with a frog or a mushroom!”

“It’s not funny,” sighed Griselda in concern. “He fell in love with the fairy princesses.” To that, Plum began laughing even harder. “Fake love isn’t real love, Plum. How do we fix the effects of the potion?”

“Let me out, and I’ll tell you,” sang Sugar Plum, beginning to zip around inside the globe again.

“I can’t trust you, and Bog would be furious,” groaned Griselda.

“Well, I see no reason to talk to you if you’re not going to let me out. I know the antidote.” Plum continued flying in circles, which began to make Griselda dizzy.

Closing her eyes, Griselda thought through what she could do. She needed information, and it would only come from the fairy who made the potion in the first place. “If I free you, you must leave both of our kingdoms entirely.”

“What if I just promise to never make the love potion again?” Plum stopped flying again. “I swear, if you free me, Griselda, I will never create a love potion again. They’re nothing but trouble anyway. It’s not worth it!”

“Tell me what can be done about Bog first.” Griselda set the terms. “Then I will free you.”

“Well, first of all, the love potion can be countered by true love, which breaks the spell immediately.” Plum decided to go for it. Dealing with Griselda and not her son was a far more promising endeavor.

“He’s never been in love in his life,” sighed Griselda. “So that’s not going to work.”

“Well, the other thing is that the potion has a half-life. Every twenty-four hours, the effects fade to half of their previous strength, depending on how heavily he was dosed.” Plum began spilling out the information. “So in a couple of days, he should have his senses returned enough to come home. Are you going to free me like you promised?”

Griselda frowned, knitting her brows together. “Yes.” She reached out to pick up the stick holding Sugar Plum’s prison. “Don’t you ever tell Bog I did this.”

“I have no intention of ever coming near your son again,” snorted Plum, hovering in the center of the orb. “Take me outside.”

Chapter Text

Marianne couldn’t help but be excited as she stepped onto the ledge of her flight balcony. Surely, the love potion would begin wearing off by now. If it did, Bog might already be gone, which would put an end to her attempts at being friends with him. If not, then would he be watching for her to leave again?

Would Bog follow her to her favorite sparring point this morning and offer to spar with her? She hoped he would. After all, he was the only man who had ever made that offer, and he wasn’t rude about it. He didn’t belittle her or tell her she shouldn’t be handling a sword. No, he wanted to teach her.

But was it the love potion, or was he really like that?

Marianne took a deep breath and walked off the ledge, gliding over the wildflowers growing around the castle rock, heading off into the darkness. The sound of someone else’s foreign wings sounded from behind her, and a smile spread over Marianne’s face, realizing that Bog was indeed still there, and he was following her.

*

Bog was sitting on the balcony railing, watching the sunrise when he heard Marianne leaving the castle. He had been up for a while, his regular schedule kicking in. Part of him felt ashamed that he was shirking his responsibilities at home, but his mother could handle them. Besides, he did such a good job as a king, his kingdom ran itself with little intervention on his part.

The sight of Marianne’s purplish-blue wings caught his eye immediately, and he took off after her, taking it as an invitation. The overwhelming love sensation had dulled even more overnight. He wasn’t sure if it was the lingering remnants of the love potion, but looking at Marianne made his heart race with excitement.

It didn’t matter. After all the decades alone, Bog had a brief window into a different life and took it. He deserved a few days of fun and personal enjoyment. Bog was confident the emotions would fade. They weren’t real. Nothing like this could be real. It was just the love potion.

He caught up to Marianne and smiled as she turned to look at him and smiled first. “Good morning, tough girl,” growled Bog in greeting.

“Good morning, Bog King,” Marianne replied, still smiling, her brown eyes catching the dim light and lighting up with golden glints. Her eyes. They were so captivating, so alluring. Of course, they were. She was a fairy, and they were by nature, beautiful.

Bog continued smiling, despite a whirl of negative emotions informing him Marianne was just nice because she thought he was still overcome by the love potion. No, he told himself, she was nice, because she was a nice person, no other reason. Didn’t she mention wanting to be friends? Bog’s thoughts were still a little hazy, but he was certain she had told him that.

He recalled her words. If he wasn’t an awful person, they could be friends. Was he an awful person? Bog wrestled with it for a moment. He didn’t think of himself in that way. He cared about his mother, and he cared about his people. Under his rule, his kingdom flourished, and no-one went hungry. What did Marianne consider awful?

They landed on the log, and Marianne drew her sword, turning to face him, still smiling. “So, what are you going to teach me today, Bog?”

He stood for a moment, gazing at her. What did Marianne consider awful? Obviously, she was okay with how he looked, because she treated him like any other fairy. That baffled Bog. He had always assumed the fairies thought he was a hideous creature, a monster of the darkness, so he gave them what they saw. The potion made him change his approach, and in turn, the fairies changed theirs. He had always been more concerned with maintaining a level of threat to look strong over niceties that might make him appear weak. Bog never thought he had a choice.

“Bog?” Marianne stood before him, looking at him inquisitively. ‘Something wrong?”

“No. Let’s just spar, and I’ll stop ye when I see something I can help ye with.” He twirled his staff and advanced. “Guard yerself, tough girl!”

*

Griselda grumbled, making her way across the Sunfields with a small group of goblins. They ran into several fairy soldiers who quickly set out to escort them to the castle. One flew ahead to inform the king they were coming. A short time later, King Dagda arrived on a squirrel, along with several other soldiers. It wasn’t often goblins came into the Sunfields, and with the current situation, Dagda knew why they were there.

“King Dagda,” Griselda greeted with a polite bow. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“I’m assuming you’re here looking for your king?” Dagda slid off the squirrel to join Griselda on the ground.

“My son.” Griselda folded her arms, giving the Fairy King a stern look. “I am looking for Bog, yes.”

“Ah.” Dagda bowed respectfully. “We couldn’t get him to return home after he was accidentally hit with a love potion. I believe he’s not far away if you would like to see him.” Dagda motioned to a nearby hill, a stream cutting through it and small trees rising over it. “One of my subjects made a poor choice and is being dealt with.”

“I see. I apologize for whatever my son did,” grumbled Griselda, toddling up to the Fairy King as they started up the small rise. “You know that he normally doesn’t intend any harm.”

“Yes, that’s why he didn’t end up in the dungeon. I would prefer we remain on good terms.” Dagda peered at the small goblin, completely confused by how the towering goblin king had somehow come from her.

“Has he been behaving himself?” The question made Dagda chuckle. The queen mother was old, but the question was more appropriate for a much younger son, not a king well into adulthood.

“A perfect gentleman,” Dagda stated.

“I would expect nothing less, but with love potions involved, you never know,” sighed Griselda. “My son is not a bad man, King Dagda. He’s a good king.” They crested the hill and Dagda stopped, pushing aside the tall blades of grass.

The startled gasp that came from the king, along with the sudden rise of his wings, made Griselda walk faster to see what had brought about that reaction. Through the parted grass, Griselda and Dagda clearly saw the log over the stream that Marianne used as her training spot.

Bog loomed over Marianne, his arms against hers, hands wrapped over hers as he moved her through a specific move with her sword. He did it several times, and there was no mistaking the smile on his face as well as the one on Marianne’s. Griselda quickly stepped back, giggling. “Finally.”

“What?” Dagda stepped back, turning to face Griselda.

“Toodaloo!” Griselda waved, hurriedly running off with a laugh. “He’s your problem now!”

Dagda stared after the goblin as she joined the rest of the goblins, and all of them started back to the border. The Fairy King had no idea what that was about, but he did know one thing. Marianne would never have allowed another fairy man to do what he had just seen. Why she allowed Bog to do it was a mystery.

Griselda giggled happily. If the love potion degraded like Sugar Plum said it would, then by now, it should have dwindled enough that Bog would have chosen to leave and return home. He was stubborn and bullheaded. She was sure of this, but the look on his face, that smile, Bog had made a choice, and she would not do anything to risk whatever was going on with him.

If it was just the love potion, then maybe he’d return home that night. If not, he might be away for a considerably longer time.

*

Marianne laughed more than she had in the last year, a smile lighting up her face as she sparred with the towering goblin king. Something was different today, as loose banter flew between them. They spent the entire morning sparring, mostly because Marianne didn’t want to stop.

Their time could be limited. So much was up in the air, and the more time Marianne spent with him, the more she liked him. She still had doubts about who he really was and noticed that he had stopped proclaiming his love for her. His expressions were different, not as intense, but his eyes still locked onto hers with a strange light in them, a light that made her feel all warm and tingly inside.

Repeatedly, she reminded herself that he could come to his senses at any point and vanish into the Dark Forest without a second look behind, returning to his life as it was. Marianne didn’t want that.

Just after noon, despite the fact they were both hungry and worn out, Bog splashed into the little stream and sat down to cool himself off, buzzing his wings behind him. Marianne slid off her boots and sat on a rock, dipping her toes into the cold water. Bog suddenly laid down, letting the cool water wash over his entire body, sighing and smiling.

“I am going to be sore tomorrow.” Marianne kicked her feet, glancing at Bog curiously. Now was a good time to talk.

“Lay in the water. The cold will ease your muscles.” Bog cracked his knuckles, flexing his fingers beneath the cool water.

“How are you feeling, Bog? Still madly in love with me?” Marianne giggled teasingly, sliding her feet a little further into the water.

Bog didn’t answer, staring up at the bright blue sky. He couldn’t lie, but he didn’t want to tell the truth either. “Does it matter?”

“So, it’s wearing off?” Marianne stared at Bog curiously.

“I am aware I am not thinking correctly.” Bog chose his words carefully. “And I do not care.” He paused, closing his eyes, laying his head down more so that only his nose and mouth were above the cooling water. “Do you want me to leave?” Bog tilted his head, so one ear was above the water, opening his mouth to take a drink.

“Whenever you need to go, go.” Marianne shrugged, watching him. “My opinion doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Bog sat up with a snort, shaking his head, sending water droplets everywhere. “What do ye want, Marianne?”

Silently, Marianne dug her toes into the small pebbles beneath her feet, turning them over in thought. “You are the king of the Dark Forest, Bog. I do not have any rights to your time or to you, but I would like it if when you do leave, you could come out here on occasion and spar with me?”

“Being king has its privileges,” stated Bog. “I can do whatever I please when I please.”

“I just want you to know that I want you to come see me, not just for sparring.” Marianne’s voice took on a shy, less confident tone. “I’d like to get to know the real you, not the love dusted one.”

Bog stared at the water, washing over his lower half, a myriad of strange feelings coursing through him. He was still under the effect, and he knew it, but instead of dwindling, his emotions for Marianne seemed to be increasing. They were not the artificially inflated emotions he had the day before; no, these were something deeper. There was no need to cloud his other senses like the love potion did. He could think clearly.

“What if I was disappointingly boring?” Bog rose out of the water, fanning his wings on purpose to send a shower of droplets onto Marianne. She laughed in response, dipping her hand in the water to splash him back. Laughing, Bog kneeled to splash water back at her.

*

“Did you leave any water in the stream?” Dawn eyed Bog and Marianne as they flew into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. Both of them were dripping water everywhere, Marianne’s clothing soaked, and Bog’s armored plating holding more.

“Are we late for lunch?” Marianne grinned, ruffling her little sister’s hair.

“Breakfast and lunch!” Dawn pouted. “And it’s my turn to play with Bog!”

“He’s not a toy,” groaned Marianne, looking into several bowls on the long counter.

“I don’t mind.” Bog smiled, realizing he had to play along with Dawn as well as Marianne. He had to pretend he was still enamored with the younger fairy as well. “What d’ye have in mind?”

“There’s a dance tonight!” Dawn grinned, clasping her hands together.

“Oh, no, you are not taking Bog to a dance.” Marianne sighed. “Don’t do that to him.”

“Boggy, would you like to go to the dance with me? Please?” Dawn turned on the charm, batting her eyelashes at him.

“It’s Bog, and certainly.” Bog corrected her with a smile. He did not want to go to a dance, but it would carry him far in staying another day. Forget leaving tonight, he wanted to see Marianne again tomorrow morning and spend the day with her.

Marianne brought Bog a bowl of sliced fruit and some kind of fruit juice. He must not have hidden his disappointment, because she sat next to him with her own bowl and drink, nudging his shoulder. “Would you rather have meat? Maybe fish?”

Bog licked his lips at the thought. He had eaten their sugary sweet fruits and vegetables since he arrived and was dying for just one bite of meat. “I’m fine.” He picked up a slice of fruit and bit into it. Strawberry. It was one of Bog’s favorite fruits, but having it every day for every meal would get old fast. He might just sneak out and catch one of the smaller fish in the creeks tonight and cook it out in the field.

Chapter Text

How did it end up like this? Marianne snarled at the dress she had been put into. It was made out of moonflower petals, a simple purple dress that accentuated her curves and left her shoulders bare. The skirt went down almost all the way to the floor and flared out.

Next to her, Bog stood wearing a satiny black tunic made from black petunia petals, making it look velvety and soft. A matching cape fell between his wings, strapped around his waist to keep it from getting tangled in his wings in case he needed to fly. He looked as bewildered as Marianne felt, his staff having been left behind in his room. “You two look great!” Dawn circled them in a quick flap of her wings, making sure their outfits were perfect.

Dawn wore a dress meant for dancing like many of the attending fairy women would be wearing, bi-colored four O’clocks, pink with golden orange streaks that matched her wings. It flared out around her as she moved, and Marianne grumbled.

“Dawn, stop flying in that dress. You’re going to flash your panties at everyone!” Marianne snapped at her little sister, momentarily forgetting Bog, who turned bright red at even the mention of such a thing. Seeing Bog flush red, made Marianne do the same thing, realizing what she had just said. The only thing that would have been worse was if he asked what panties were. Thankfully, it seemed he had a good idea as he dropped his eyes to the floor.

Giggling, Dawn landed in front of them, beckoning for them to follow her. “Come on, let’s go! You two don’t have to dance, but I can’t wait for Dad to see you!” Marianne and Bog sighed simultaneously.

“You don’t have to do this,” whispered Marianne.

“No, ye don’t have to do this,” Bog whispered back. “Ye are only coming because I am.”

“Someone has to make sure you’re not bored to death,” growled Marianne, stepping beside him, reaching for his hand. “We don’t have to dance.”

Bog nodded, smiling slightly as Marianne slipped her tiny, warm hand into his. “Whatever Dawn wants.”

“I hope that wears off soon. Who knows what she’ll want to do to you tomorrow,” laughed Marianne as they followed Dawn.

*

Bog had no idea what to expect as he was led through the castle and entered a massive ballroom filled with bright lights and soft music. All eyes fell on him, and Marianne as they entered, fairy women immediately stepping closer to their partners. Bog frowned at that reaction. It was what he expected from fairies. Revulsion.

He looked away, turning his attention to Marianne, who was furiously leading him to the far side of the hall, avoiding the dance floor. Crouching as he walked, Bog wished he could vanish from view, find some dark place to hide in, and sit in silence.

“Where are you going?” Dawn bounced after them, grabbing Bog’s other hand. “Dance with me!” She laughed, her light blue eyes glimmering innocently. “Just one dance, Boggy!”

“Bog.” He smiled at Dawn. “I’m not sure if I would be a good dance partner, Dawn.”

“Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be good!” The young fairy tugged on his hand, but this time, Marianne intervened.

“No, Dawn. You got him to dress up, if you want to see him dance, then I will take him out myself, so he won’t be embarrassed.” Marianne looked up at Bog, who was trying his best to keep a straight face and not flee from all the bright lights and spectacle. “Bog, would you like to dance? Can you dance?”

“I know how to dance,” muttered Bog nervously. “However, I am not certain I know fairy dances. Ye will have to teach me, but I learn quickly.”

“Well, you taught me, so I guess it’s time for me to teach you.” Marianne glanced at her sister, who was smiling at them and hadn’t said a word. “One dance.”

“Make sure he has fun!” Dawn giggled, turning away from them and bouncing after a passing boy.

“I hate dances,” growled Marianne. “They’re so stupid, just a bunch of idiots showing off.” Bog nodded, taking a deep breath, aware there were eyes on him, so many eyes. “We’ll do this, then we can go sit somewhere, drink some wine, and ignore everyone.”

Bog swallowed nervously as they stepped out onto the dance floor, the smooth rock surface almost painfully cold beneath his bare feet. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint Marianne as she moved his left hand to rest on her slender waist and took his right in hers.

“Follow me,” whispered Marianne, coming far closer to him than he expected. “The steps are simple and just repeat them, then turn with me. When you have it down, you need to lead.” Marianne moved carefully, whispering which foot to move to Bog as she did it.

They had plenty of room to practice for a few minutes before Bog took over. The other fairy couples fled to the edges of the ballroom, leaving only Bog and Marianne dancing to the music. Bog ignored them, concentrating on the steps and doing them correctly.

All was well until he caught a glimmer of green armor out of the corner of one eye and saw HIM approaching them. Marianne scowled, also spotting him. “Ignore him.”

“Marianne,” Roland greeted politely as the song ended. “May I have the next dance?” He ignored Bog, even as Marianne took a step closer to the towering goblin king.

“I’m here with Bog,” stated Marianne, giving Roland a cold look.

“He’s not even a fairy!” Roland hissed, glancing up at Bog, then back to Marianne.

“I can get rid of him again.” Bog rumbled, glaring at Roland.

“You would attack me in the middle of a dance?” Roland gasped. “How absolutely beastly!”

“Back off, Roland.” Marianne stepped between him and Bog, pushing him on the chest to make him move back. “I will never dance with you again. Come with me, Bog, we’re leaving.” She turned to Bog, taking his hand to lead him away. Bog bared his teeth at Roland over his shoulder and was gratified at the visible shudder passing through the obnoxious fairy man. Marianne snagged a bottle of wine off a table in passing.

*

As grateful as he was to leave the dance hall, Bog was troubled by the encounter. It was clear that Marianne loathed Roland, yet he did not leave her alone. Such things were not tolerated in his kingdom, and he couldn’t understand why it was tolerated here. Marianne was silent, but he could feel the heat coming off her, her short nails digging into his palm.

They passed through a crowded hall, then down increasingly less busy halls. Then, Marianne led him onto a large, empty flight balcony, closing the doors behind them, so they were alone. Fires burned on either side of the balcony, and it was decorated with wreaths of flowers and sheer curtains. There were a few cushions scattered around it for seating.

He was alone with her.

Bog glanced around the balcony, hearing the music from the celebration still going on a few halls away floating in the air around them. His wings twitched anxiously as Marianne sat on one of the cushions and tipped the wine bottle up to take a long drink.

“Should, should I go, Marianne?” Bog kept his distance.

“I’m sorry,” stated Marianne. “This isn’t your problem. You can go if you want.”

Bog stepped up on to the rail, prepared to leave. Not back to his room, but to the Dark Forest. He had no real reason to be here. And he would have gone if he hadn’t heard a stifled sob come from Marianne. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see her wipe away a tear on her cheek.

This was not something he wanted to deal with, a crying female, but it touched off something more inside. She was hurting, and perhaps he could do something for her. He wanted to do something, he had such strong, warm feelings toward her. Bog turned, stepping off the railing to walk up to Marianne, approaching her in a timid crouch.

“Is there something I can do for ye, Marianne?” Bog inquired, stopping inches away from her. “Anything.”

Marianne sighed, reaching up to touch Bog’s face, and he flinched from her touch. “I bet it’s worn off entirely by now, hasn’t it?” She gave him a smile, withdrawing her hand.

“Mostly,” Bog admitted. “But the potion isn’t affecting my mind now. I was free to do whatever I wanted last night.” He turned and settled into a cushion next to Marianne as she stared at him in wonder.

“Why didn’t you leave then? This isn’t your kingdom,” she stated, wiping her eyes again quickly.

“I didn’t want to,” grunted Bog. “Ye see, there’s something here I don’t have in my kingdom. When I found it, I wanted to explore its uniqueness.”

“And what is this thing you found?” Marianne smiled at him, still attempting to maintain her composure.

Bog was silent for a long moment, with the only sound, a gentle hum from his wings. He looked out, over the balcony railing, running one hand over the other, unsure if he wanted to say it. He took a breath, whispering, “You.”

Marianne laughed, sipping from the bottle before handing it to Bog. “Me?”

“Yer a little different.” Bog smiled, taking the bottle and tilting it to take a deep drink of the fairy wine, hoping it would help calm his nerves.

“That’s an understatement,” grumbled Marianne.

“Why is he allowed to continually harass ye?” Bog set the bottle down between them. “He should not be allowed to even talk to ye, let alone approach ye. Ye are royalty.”

Marianne looked at Bog thoughtfully, chewing on a fingertip. “I never told anyone what he did.”

“And what did he do?” Bog was afraid to ask but did so anyway.

“We were supposed to get married,” sighed Marianne, looking out over the balcony railing again, anywhere but at Bog. “I caught him with another woman right before our wedding. I was in my wedding dress.” Bog gasped, and his shoulder plates rattled slightly, hearing the offense. “And I was ashamed to admit it because it meant admitting I wasn’t good enough to be enough for him.”

“Ridiculous.” Bog hissed sharply. “That man was a fool. He still is a fool.”

“Yeah, a beautiful, good-looking fool, and what does that make me for falling for him?” Marianne grumbled, picking at her dress.

“Just like anyone else? Attracted to someone because they are beautiful?” grunted Bog. “Seems to me, ye are a princess, and ye can send that moron away at any time.”

“You talk a lot more when you’re not faking being love dusted,” laughed Marianne, leaning her shoulder against his arm. “I decided from that point on, to embrace my differences and never trust a man again.”

“A good policy.” Bog nodded in agreement.

“Don’t trust anyone.” They said it together and laughed, then there was silence between them.

“Ye know, beautiful Marianne, a flower that blooms at night is different from a flower that blooms in the day, but they are still flowers, with the same needs.” Bog fidgeted, shifting how he sat to lean toward her. “They still need the sun, water, and the earth.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Marianne smiled at the compliment.

“Probably doesn’t mean much coming from me,” grumbled Bog. “But yes, ye are, inside and out.”

“Let’s go back to why you’re still here.” Marianne smiled, reaching out to lay a hand on one of Bog’s. “Why are you still here?”

“Because I am a fool,” replied Bog, looking down at her hand on his. “There is absolutely no reason for a stunning fairy woman to look my way, yet both ye and yer sister were kind to me when ye didn’t have to be.”

Marianne laughed. “I wasn’t that nice to you at the start.”

“I didn’t exactly make the best first impression.” Bog sighed. “Spring always does that to me, makes me furiously angry about everything. I could have just asked, but I had to make a spectacle of myself instead.”

“A gloriously awful spectacle,” agreed Marianne with a laugh. “Your voice is beautiful, Bog.”

“Well, that’s not something I hear often,” he chuckled, eyes still locked on his hands and how Marianne’s fingers stroked over his palm, sliding up the underside of his wrist where there was no armor.

“I like you,” muttered Marianne.

“What?” Bog leaned in closer, thinking he had not heard her clearly.

“I like you,” Marianne repeated a little louder.

“I like ye too, Marianne.” Bog grinned, reaching out tentatively to lay his hand on hers.

“So, I told you my secret. Why does spring make you angry instead of all light-headed and overly happy like it does everyone else?” The question made Bog cringe and grind his teeth.

Bog began breathing shallowly, a ribbon of cold winding up his back. After a moment, he found his words. “When I was young, I did something foolish. I loved someone, and I desired them to love me, but I wasn’t patient. I wanted their love immediately, and I went to the Sugar Plum Fairy for the love potion.” Bog shivered, his wings twitching violently for a moment. “It didn’t work. Instead of loving me, she ran away, revolted. I am, I am so awful, so unsightly, not even a love potion could bring me love.”

“Oh.” Marianne listened, watching his face as he spoke, realizing just how much it took out of him to simply make that admittance. He really was far different than she initially thought, but her observations of him under the effects of the love potion seemed accurate. Under all that armor, he was hurt, injured in a way that cut to the core.

The song he sang, it was true.

It was painfully true.

“And now that I know what the love potion feels like.” A shade of guilt passed over Bog’s eyes, staring out into the darkness. “It’s not real love. It would have all been fake. It would have been cruel if it worked.”

“Yes.” Marianne nodded, sliding an arm around his, hugging him.

“So that is why I imprisoned the Sugar Plum Fairy, to keep her from giving people false hopes for something that I didn’t believe existed,” Bog rumbled, closing his eyes, a small smile creeping over his face at Marianne’s warmth around his arm. “And also, because it wasn’t fair that such a thing existed, yet it didn’t work on me.”

“But it did!” Marianne laughed suddenly, trying to change his mood. “Do you remember the things you did and said?”

“I remember everything,” grumbled Bog. “I was always there, I just couldn’t think about anything but ye and Dawn. I deserved what happened to me.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Marianne stood and moved to stand in front of Bog, her hands resting on his shoulder pauldrons.

“I don’t know,” stated Bog, staring up at her, unsure of what she was doing, but not about to stop her. Somewhere deep inside nudged him that he was about to enjoy something special.

“Do you know, you’re the only man who has ever offered to spar with me? To teach me? To encourage me to be me?” Marianne tilted her head, her wings rising behind her. And they glowed in the firelight, swaying gently in the light spring breeze. “Why don’t we see where this goes?” She leaned forward, lifting her hands to caress Bog’s face, having made a decision. He gazed at her through half-lidded eyes, the touch sending comforting sensations through his body. Just her fingers made him stay still, his anxieties calming for the moment. It was clear any fears he had about being rejected were not necessary, no, this was anything but being rejected.

“Marianne?” The door to the balcony opened, sending brilliant light flooding over it and onto Bog and Marianne, who both froze, feeling a shared sense of being caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

Chapter Text

Marianne groaned, looking up to see her father standing in the doorway, light from the hall illuminating his shocked face. This would have had to have been the absolute worst timing on her father’s part. The look on Bog’s face stated he did not want to turn around, mortified to be in his current position, even if all they were doing was about to kiss.

“Dad!” Marianne snapped at her father, taking her hands off Bog’s pauldrons and taking a step back. “You could have knocked.”

“S’ sorry,” stammered Dagda, stepping onto the balcony and closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to check on you, dear, after you left the dance hall. I couldn’t get away as quickly.”

Bog rose, twitching his wings nervously. He turned to King Dagda with a bow. “I should probably leave.”

“Don’t you dare!” Marianne turned a heated look in Bog’s direction. “We were having a private conversation, and we will be finishing that conversation.”

“Oh?” Bog’s eyes widened at the intensity in Marianne’s words.

“I am fine, Dad, please, go away.” Marianne’s wings raised behind her, moving with agitated waves.

“We need to talk.” Dagda looked from his daughter to Bog, then back again.

“Bog, don’t go anywhere.” Marianne glanced at him over her shoulder. “Please.” Bog nodded, sitting back down.

*

Dagda pulled his daughter in the hallway, an exasperated look on his face. “Marianne, how do you know he isn’t still suffering from the effects of the love potion?!”

“Trust me, Dad, he’s not.” Marianne didn’t want to tell her father how Bog had flinched away from her touch. “I like him. I really like him.”

“But you don’t even know him!” Dagda glanced at the door to the balcony, his eyes wide in shock. “He’s… the Bog King! The Goblin King! The King of the Dark Forest! He’s not some pet that followed you home, Marianne!”

“Technically, he did,” she giggled, running a hand through her hair.

“He has never shown himself to be anything but an aloof, private, ruler who has never wanted anything to do with us,” persisted Dagda, gesturing wildly with his hands, his wings half-raised in agitation. “You don’t know him!”

“I know enough,” stated Marianne, drawing herself up, allowing her wings to fall behind her. “I want him.” She smiled at her father as his face blanched. “Forget him courting me, I want to court him.” Dagda gaped. “Is that a problem?”

Dagda took a deep breath, closing his eyes, grimacing. “No, I want you to be happy, Marianne, but you shouldn’t rush into anything. You yourself have continually claimed you would never fall in love again.”

“I did not fall in love!” Marianne snorted, folding her arms. “I’m choosing to do this. Face it, Dad, I’ve met every single fairy man in the kingdom, and none of them are right for me, except that one.” She gestured to the door. “The only one who has ever treated me like an equal.”

“Marianne,” Dagda’s voice took on a pleading tone. “Don’t feel like you need to do this.”

“You have been on me constantly, for the last year, to find someone.” Marianne’s eyes narrowed, her jaw sliding forward as she clenched it. “I have found someone, and he’s already a king.”

Dagda knit his eyebrows, frowning at his daughter, unable to understand what was going on in her head. “Give it some time, dear.” It was all he could think of to say. “Don’t rush-”

“I’m not getting any younger.” Marianne turned, her wings flying out behind her as she put her hands on the door. “I’m doing this. I’ve made up my mind. I want him.” She paused, then looked over her shoulder with a softer expression. “Dad, he’s the only one. Try to understand. I’m not letting him get away.”

Marianne pushed through the doors, turning quickly to close them behind her. She turned to the balcony with a smile, her wings rising with excitement. “Bog-” The balcony was empty. Her heart dropped, standing in the middle of the empty balcony. Had he decided she was too much trouble and just left?

“Bog,” whispered Marianne, walking across the balcony, her eyes beginning to burn. She blinked back the tears, looking for him. She had told him not to leave. Well, at least that proved the love potion had worn off entirely.

“Sorry, I thought I’d be back before ye were done.” Bog’s wings hummed as he landed on the side of the balcony, holding his staff in hand. “I like being prepared.”

“For what?” Marianne laughed, turning to face him, quickly flicking her fingers over her eyes to hide the moment of devastation she had just gone through. “We’re in the Fairy Kingdom. Nothing is going to attack you here.”

Bog stared at her, tilting his head to one side, realizing she had a point. “I like having it with me?”

Marianne walked up to him, stopping in front of him, peering up into his face as he leaned on his scepter. “What are your plans tonight? Are you staying here or going home?”

“Am I still welcome? Now that I’m no longer love dusted.” Bog made a face as he said it. “My kingdom is fine without me constantly looking over it for a time. I would like to get to know ye better if ye would allow it.”

“I allow it,” laughed Marianne. “I encourage it.” Her voice lowered as she reached out and placed her hands on Bog’s chest, running her fingers over the soft petals. He must have been able to feel her touch because he smiled and made a rumbling noise deep in his chest.

“Not in this way,” murmured Bog, swallowing loudly. “I don’t want my senses confused by what ye do to me, not right now.” He lifted his hand to move Marianne’s hands off his chest. “Ye have been drinking, and so have I.”

Marianne frowned at being pushed away. “I’m fine.”

“I am not.” Bog smiled shyly. He knelt to pick up the bottle, turning it upside down to show that he had emptied it.

“Oh.” Marianne blinked. The bottle had been more than half full when she handed it to him earlier.

“I feel really good right now. Yer wine is tasty. A little too sweet, but really tasty.” Bog stared at the empty bottle, and Marianne smiled, her forehead wrinkling with frustration. “I needed help relaxing. Ye see I’m not good at this thing.” He gestured between the two of them. “So let’s sit and talk,” he chuckled. “Don’t take advantage of me, sweet angel of the night.”

“I’m not that kind of person,” sighed Marianne, smiling as Bog wavered and sat on a cushion, almost tipping off the backside. His wings caught him, and he chuckled. Marianne sat next to him. “Can you put your arm around me?”

“If that is what ye want, yes.” Bog nodded, lifting his arm and carefully putting it around Marianne. She leaned against him and pulled his arm around her waist so she could hold his hand.

“Tell me what you like in a woman, Bog.” Marianne grinned, focusing on his hand and the still shining, glittering nails. Her imagination began running, pondering how it would feel to have him drag them over her skin.

“I don’t know.” Bog shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it, but I like a wild spirit, a capable, untamed wildfire. A keen mind, someone I can’t predict, a woman who doesn’t run screaming off down a hall at the sight of my face. How about ye, what do ye like in a man, Marianne?”

“Someone I can trust, who understands me and doesn’t talk down to me.” Marianne nestled into his arm. “Someone intelligent, thoughtful, dependable, and will never cheat on me. A man who is loyal and wants to be with me, by his side, not standing behind him.”

“I might know a guy,” chuckled Bog.

*

Roland scowled. Not only were his plans for the love potion botched, but now the Bog King was in love with Marianne, and she seemed to have feelings for him as well. Berating himself for unintentionally bringing a rival between him and Marianne, Roland thought of another plan, one which would permanently remove the Bog King.

It had to be put into action immediately, and it could be. A smile spread over Roland’s face as he turned to his trio of loyal henchmen. He whispered his plan quickly, and they nodded in unison. The three left to prepare while Roland crossed the dance floor to where Dawn danced with another young fairy man.

“May I cut in?” Roland tapped Dawn’s dance partner on the shoulder, and he immediately stepped aside for Roland to take his place.

“Roland!” Dawn giggled, taking his hand, more than happy to dance.

“When we’re done dancing, I have something to show you that you’re just going to love.” Roland turned on the charm, smiling at the princess.

“Oh, what is it?” Dawn twirled, her dress flaring out around her, wings flowing with her movement.

“It’s a surprise, just for you,” purred Roland. Dawn laughed in response, enjoying the dance. She suspected nothing as Roland peppered her with adoring compliments.

*

Sunny sighed, up to his arms in suds as he washed dishes in the kitchen. He was fortunate he was sentenced to doing this sort of drudgery and not stuck in the cold, dark dungeon far below the earth. His parents interceded for him, and because he was friends with Dawn, he was given a lighter punishment. Six months of washing dishes and running errands for the kitchen staff.

He was also forbidden from interacting with Dawn for that entire time. He took responsibility for his actions, lying so he wouldn’t be a snitch. Roland, of course, didn’t step up to admit he was the one that convinced Sunny to go into the dark forest and have a love potion made. Sunny mournfully stated it was just a dare and that everything was an accident.

Now that he had time to think about it, getting a love potion to get Dawn to love him was a stupid decision. She was a beautiful fairy princess, and he was a homely, common elf. There was nothing special about him. He was lucky she spent time with him at all. Since she hadn’t come looking for him, he suspected this separation might have lasting expects.

Dawn had probably forgotten all about him. Sunny sighed again, setting a clean plate into the rack and going to the next one. The kitchen staff had already cleaned up and left for the night, leaving him in the back corner of the kitchen, out of sight. A door opened, and voices echoed through the room.

Sunny froze, recognizing Dawn’s voice… and Roland’s. He winced, drying his hands, curious about what was going on and why Dawn would be down in the kitchen. Dawn loved dances, and there was usually nothing that could tear her away from one.

“What do you want to show me, Roland?” Dawn’s eager voice could be heard clearly. Sunny ducked below a table, hearing their footsteps coming closer. They appeared to be heading to the back door, which led from the kitchen to a large hall that was used for bringing in supplies.

“Follow me!” Roland called out jovially, opening the back door, bowing for Dawn to step through it. “It’s outside.”

“It’s dark outside,” giggled Dawn, stepping through the door. “Are we going outside?”

“Yes, you’ll see.” Roland followed after her, glancing over his shoulder. Sunny remained hidden and silent.

Something was wrong. Sunny made a face, tapping his fingers together in thought. Something was wrong. It hit him hard. This wasn’t right. Taking a deep breath, Sunny worked up his courage and crept to the door, opening it enough to see Roland and Dawn walking down the hall.

Sunny slipped through the door, closing it carefully behind him. He followed them, making use of the crates of supplies and other items filling one side of the hall to remain hidden. There was a small space between the wall and the crates, a narrow path that he could fit through easily.

The elf caught up with them, just as they reached the end of the hall. Roland was laughing, and his hand was in a small pouch hanging on his hip. Sunny’s eyes widened, glimpsing tiny blue and white sparkles seeping from Roland’s hand as he pulled it out. He clapped his hands over his mouth to keep from making a sound as Roland lifted his hand over Dawn’s head while she looked at something he pointed at with his other hand.

Dawn slumped the moment the dust hit her, and Roland caught her before she could hit the ground, being careful to keep his head out of the cloud. He dragged her forward, limply, through the door that led outside. Sunny could hear soldiers outside, their armor making soft clinking noises.

“Be careful with her,” hissed Roland. “And don’t let her see your faces or hear your voices. The dust will erase the last half hour of her memory, not anything she hears or sees when she wakes up.”

Sunny gulped, sinking further into the dark shadows. Roland came back inside, glanced around a moment, then headed back to the kitchen. “No, no, no,” Sunny whined to himself, scooting around the create and glancing in Roland’s direction. He could go tell someone, or he could go through the door and see if he could follow whoever Roland had handed Dawn off to.

Nobody would believe his word against Roland. Why would they? Roland was a high standing officer, and Sunny was a screwup with bad judgment. With a sigh, Sunny went for the door, pushing through it quickly, darting out into the darkness. He made sure the door closed behind him without a sound, then looked for the fairies, and spotted them immediately.

The moonlight lit up a pair of fairies carrying something between them, rising up over the tops of the wildflowers that grew around the fairy rock. Sunny whimpered, then started forward. Fairies could fly fast, but they were loaded down with a body between them. He could keep up with them and remain hidden in the darkness. Sunny was good at that kind of thing.

Chapter Text

Light fell over Bog’s face, and he grumbled, his head pounding lightly. He yawned and caught the most delicious scent. Blinking against the morning light, he realized he and Marianne had fallen asleep on the balcony. He was laying across several cushions, his right arm and shoulder pauldron stuck between two of them. His left arm was draped over Marianne, who faced him with a content smile on her face.

There were two empty bottles of wine sitting nearby, the second one brought in by Marianne, which they both shared. They spent the night talking, with Marianne snuggled up to him. He had not dared to do anything beyond that, but at some point, they fell asleep. He recalled lying down, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, then she laid down next to him, and he passed out.

Bog smiled, gazing at the lovely fairy beneath his arm. It brought up the feeling to be on guard, to protect her, then he heard the door open behind them and closed his eyes with a groan. If it was Marianne’s father, he would not like this, Bog was certain. He didn’t want to cause any problems for Marianne and her family, but he really liked her.

“Bog King.” King Dagda stated his name in a tone that sent alarm through Bog’s body. More fairies stepped through the door. Judging by the sound of their footsteps, they were soldiers. “Please move away from my daughter.”

“Nothing happened,” grumbled Bog, attempting to get his arm and pauldron out of the crevice without jostling Marianne rudely. “Too much wine, that’s all. I would never dishonor you in your own… home…” Bog turned to see half a dozen soldiers standing next to a very angry Dagda, all with their swords drawn.

“Where did you take Dawn?” Dagda pointed his sword at Bog, who sat on the cushion, blinking at him in confusion.

“Dawn? I haven’t seen Dawn since the dance.” Bog ran a hand over his face, using the move to discretely figure out where his staff was. He spotted it on the floor within easy reach.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Marianne yawned, pushing herself up on her knees and putting her hand on Bog’s right pauldron. “Dad?” Her eyes widened, blinking away the sleep to focus on the swords pointed in Bog’s direction.

“Dawn is missing, and there were reports that the Bog King was spotted flying off with her.” Dagda glared at Bog. “Where is my daughter?”

“I’ve been here all night,” growled Bog, preparing. The moment he moved, they would be on him, he was sure of it. “I would not kidnap yer daughter.”

“You say that now, but a few days ago, you also stated that very thing, that you were going to take Dawn prisoner to get the love potion.” Dagda’s face was flushed red, his anger easy to see. “Marianne, were you with him all night?”

Marianne glanced at Bog, then at the empty bottles of wine. “I…” She thought about it. There were two times she left Bog alone, one when she spoke with her father, another when she went to find another bottle of wine. Then, there were the hours she had been asleep. “No.”

“I did not take Dawn,” stated Bog. He felt Marianne remove her hand and slide off the cushion. “I did not take Dawn.” He repeated with growing earnestness, realizing the king did not believe him, and possibly, neither did Marianne.

“We are arresting you, Bog King, and will be escorting you down to the dungeon for questioning. Do not resist.” Dagda stepped aside, and if he thought Bog would allow it, was immediately informed otherwise.

Bog grabbed his staff and, with a snarl at the soldiers, turned to flee off the flight balcony. There was no way he would allow them to take him for something he did not do. His foot didn’t leave the railing before the sky around them was filled with soldiers, bearing clubs and nets. Bog snarled, his instincts kicking in to fight and flee. He went straight for them, sweeping his staff out to catch several soldiers as they came for him.

A club caught his arm, sending him careening to one side as a net fell past him. Bog’s wings caught him, and he attempted to fly through the mass of soldiers, desperation pushing him right into them. A club hit him in the face, and a sword caught his arm. There were more hits on his armored plating as he swung his staff and clawed at the surrounding soldiers, snarling at them to get out of his way.

Bog ended up on the balcony, crashing over the railing as the soldiers beat him back. Marianne stared in shock, her hands rising to cover her mouth as Bog attempted to rise, using his staff, his pauldrons, and plates flaring in anger. Chunks of his armor were gashed, beaten in, and the morning sun lit up small rivulets of blood dripping through the grooves.

Dagda put a hand on Marianne’s shoulder, pulling her back against him as he pointed his sword at Bog. “Take him now!” he shouted to the six waiting guards. They surged forward, grabbing for Bog’s arms, attempting to disarm him.

“Unhand me!” Bog roared, still trying to fight them, looking for any escape, even though the short battle already had him winded. “I am a king! Do not touch me!” He struggled, but the combined weight of the soldiers brought him down to his knees.

Bog’s staff fell with a resounding clang as he was forced down further, still fighting them as they twisted his arms behind his back, binding them. Ropes were tossed over him, pressing his wings down flat against his back, tearing them. Breathing hard, Bog ground his teeth, unable to admit defeat. “I did not… take Dawn!” He yelled.

“Give up,” whispered Marianne. “Surrender, Bog King.” He went utterly still at her voice. It was chillingly cold, not at all what he had enjoyed hearing for the last few days. And he turned his head to see her glaring at him, a look of disgust and anger aimed at him. “I can’t believe you played me like that. I can’t believe I…” Marianne’s voice trailed off in anguish as she stepped aside, standing by her father. “I can’t believe I fell for it.”

Bog went completely still, hanging his head, trying to catch his breath, his heart aching and breaking at Marianne’s words. She didn’t believe him. Nobody believed him, and he was telling them the truth. They just thought he was a monster, even Marianne.

If they wanted a monster, he would give them one.

Bog snarled, summoning all his strength to fight his bindings. He jerked from the hands holding him, staggered to his feet, and immediately went down as soldiers piled onto him, hitting him with their clubs and swords.

Marianne turned away, unable to keep watching. She was furious with him, but she had never seen anyone treated like this before. Tears could not fall for Bog, but her eyes burned, and her chest ached.

*

“I’m sorry, Marianne.” Her father attempted to talk to her as an unconscious Bog was carried through the halls. “I tried to warn you to be careful.”

“I don’t understand.” Marianne kept her voice even, unable to look at Bog. Instead, her eyes fell to the floor, where a trail of blood drops followed the soldiers. “What did he have to gain by taking Dawn?”

“Perhaps this will shed some light on the situation.” Roland walked up to them, having conveniently been missing while the rest of the assembled soldiers took out Bog. He held out a piece of folded parchment. “My men encountered a goblin bearing this message.”

Dagda scowled, taking the parchment and unfolding it. He skimmed the message, his face paling. “Marianne,” he whispered, handing the note to her. “He took Dawn to trade for you going to the Dark Forest and marrying him.”

Marianne stared at the note, her anger growing. She had no words for how angry she was, crumbling the parchment and throwing it on the floor. With a snarl, she ground her heel into the paper.

*

Bog woke with a groan, sitting in a dark, cold cell. He was chained up to the wall, his arms still bound behind his back, rope crossing his wings. The taste of blood was heavy in his dry mouth, and he spat to get rid of it. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, realizing he was missing a couple of teeth on one side.

Everything hurt, and it hurt so much he could barely think. There was a torch outside the cell, and a single guard, who got up seeing him move, looked inside to verify he was awake, then walked off. Bog squinted around the cell. There were no windows and nothing inside the cell.

“They’re coming down to talk to you, Bog King.” The fairy soldier returned, peering inside the cell. “They are going to ask you what you did with the princess. If you want to tell me now, it will all go better for you.”

“I did not take Dawn,” Bog stated hoarsely, his words ending in a snarl. “They need to let me go. Immediately.”

“They’re not going to do that.” The soldier sighed, stepping away from the barred door. “You should cooperate.”

“I did not take Dawn,” Bog repeated with a growl.

*

Sunny moved around the house on the far outskirts of a town that bordered the Dark Forest. It was an old abandoned house, long since left to rot and fall down, but inside was a treasure. The soldiers who took Dawn were inside the abandoned house. Sunny hid in a shrubby tree nearby, watching the house. He hadn’t seen anyone move around in it for hours, but he was confident it was the one they went into.

Following the fairies at night had been tricky, but Sunny managed. Now, he was setting about making a plan. He was going to rescue Dawn and get her back home, and she would know how much he loved her. Sunny just had to wait until nightfall.

*

Marianne sat on her bed, stunned and confused. Because of her, Dawn was somewhere out there, held captive by goblins? It didn’t make sense, yet, they had several soldiers stating they saw Bog carry her away, and there was the note.

Had Bog intended to leave that night and make his demand in the morning? Then he had wine and fallen asleep with her? He had sounded confused when he denied it, and the look on his face. She wouldn’t forget his expressions as he attempted to flee and brought down before her. He hadn’t said the words, but he begged her to intervene, stand up for him, trust his word. He asked for her trust, even though both of them had stated they trusted no one.

It didn’t make sense.

None of it made sense.

Not when she remembered how Bog had pushed her away, stating he wanted to talk to her and take things slow. He wanted to get to know her. At any point in the evening, he could have picked her up and carried her off. He could have faked drinking all that wine while she wasn’t there; getting her drunk enough, she wouldn’t fight him and taking her.

Bog did not need to take Dawn. But where was she, and why were there reports that he took her? Marianne rubbed her temples. She left Bog alone twice, neither time long enough for him to grab Dawn and take her somewhere. When she fell asleep, he could have left her and done it, and that was where she was having a problem with where Bog was.

Did he fall asleep, or did he fake it and leave when she fell asleep? Still, that went back to, then why didn’t he just take her? Probably because she would fight him, and her father would invade the Dark Forest to rescue her? He wasn’t stupid. When he came in to get the love potion, it was because it was stolen from him, and he didn’t want it to fall into anyone’s hands.

“Marianne?” her father’s voice called from her door.

“You can come in,” Marianne replied.

“I just wanted to tell you that the Bog King isn’t telling us anything,” sighed Dagda, pushing open his daughter’s door. “He just keeps repeating that he didn’t take Dawn.”

“I’m sure if you keep him long enough, he’ll admit to it,” muttered Marianne. “If he did it.”

“Yes, but we have a better idea.” Dagda crossed the room and sat next to Marianne. “You need to talk to him.”

“I don’t even want to look at him,” grumbled Marianne, clasping her hands over her lap.

“Yes, but what we’re thinking is that we need to let him go, then follow him. It’s likely he’ll lead us to Dawn.” Dagda laid out his plan. “Wait a few hours, then you go down there and be nice, tell him you believe him, and let him go.”

“Do you think he would fall for something like that? He’s not stupid.” Marianne stared at her father. “And I don’t want to talk to him!”

“We can’t find Dawn, dear.” Dagda frowned. “We need to do something.”

Marianne sighed, “If soldiers follow him, he’s going to head right into the forest and stay there in his own kingdom. If he didn’t do it, he’d do the same thing as if he did.”

“True, that is a possibility,” the Fairy King stated. “But if we just let him go, who’s to say he’s not going to turn around and demand a trade, you for Dawn.”

Chewing on her lower lip, Marianne considered. “I will think of something to say, let him know he won’t get away with it, that we will invade the Dark Forest if he does not return Dawn, and I will not under any circumstances, marry him.”

“Let me know when you’re ready. We will keep trying to get him to talk.” Dagda leaned over, putting his arm around Marianne’s shoulders. “I’m sorry he didn’t turn out to be who you thought he was.”

“So am I.” Marianne frowned, realizing the situation didn’t feel right. She wasn’t sure why, but she was beginning to believe Bog was telling her the truth. Something else was going on, and she would end up talking to him, as painful as it would be.

There was no winner in this situation. If everything was true and Bog really had kidnapped Dawn, it was over. If Bog had told her the truth, because she did not believe him, it was over.

In the end, the initial fires of love she felt for him were being coldly extinguished within hours of her deciding she wanted him. Once again, she misjudged a man and left her heart vulnerable to them, or she turned his back on an innocent man who needed her.

Chapter Text

Between annoyed growls, Bog gave the same answer, nothing more. “I did not take Dawn.” His anger grew with each passing moment, his body aching, covered in cuts and bruises. There were splits in his exoskeleton that needed to be bound to heal correctly, and they hurt, but nothing pained him more than Marianne turning her back on him when he told the truth.

He was nothing but a monster to these people, chained and deprived of even the simplest consideration. His throat was dry, and his stomach complained, but he would not ask for food or drink. Instead, he fed himself on a circle of anger and injury.

What had he been thinking? They hated him. They could never trust him, no matter how he presented himself. He was a loathsome, disgusting creature to these beautiful fairies. And he didn’t need them. He never needed them.

Bog grimaced, hearing footsteps approaching the front of his cell. They stopped in front of the door, and Bog didn’t bother looking up. “I did not take Dawn.” He stated hoarsely. There was no response as whoever it was, just stood there in silence.

“Bring me a bowl of clean water and a clean cloth. Do you have anything for him to eat?” It was Marianne’s voice he heard, clipped and short as she gave orders to the guard. “And open the door.”

She’s just here to dig the knife deeper. Bog closed his eyes, attempting to keep his thoughts from wandering out of their circle. They beat him, attacked him, disrespected him, and ignored the fact that he was a king. They didn’t believe his words, even though he had never lied to them in the past. Worse, she hated him. She didn’t have a care in the world for him, and he did not care about her.

The door slid open with a rattle, and he heard Marianne step inside, felt the vibrations through the floor, and felt the gentle breeze pass over him from her half lifted wings when she kneeled before him.

“Bog, look at me.” He refused, and she reached out to touch his cheek. Bog flinched back with a snarl, shifting his body back with his feet until he was pressed against the wall.

“I did not take Dawn.” Bog growled, huffing in indignation.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that.” Marianne dipped the cloth in the bowl of water she held.

Bog immediately opened his eyes, glaring at her coldly as he spat the words out, “I did not take Dawn.” He held her gaze, allowing his anger to show.

Marianne sighed, forced to look away. “I believe you.”

“Great. Now let me go,” growled Bog, baring his teeth at her. “I will leave and never show myself again. Not to ye, not to yer father, no one. Ye stay out of my forest. We will not come into the Fairy Kingdom.”

“Dawn is still missing,” Marianne stated, reaching out with the wet cloth to wipe it over the side of Bog’s face.

“I’m sure ye will find her. I do not have her, and if I return to my kingdom and she is on my side of the border, I will promptly make her leave, but I have no idea why she would be there. My goblins do not act without my orders, and I would never order such a thing.” Bog snarled. “And another thing, why would I have any reason to kidnap Dawn?”

“There was a note. A note that stated you intended to trade Dawn for me, to take me into the Dark Forest as your wife.” Marianne dabbed at his face as he tried to move away from her.

“After what I told you? Ye would believe I would do something like that?” Bog squirmed aside, hissing, “Stop it! Don’t touch me!”

Marianne withdrew, setting the bowl aside, just looking at Bog. “Look, my father came to me to get me to talk to you. This was not my idea. He believes if I let you go, you will go to wherever Dawn is.”

“I do not know where Dawn is,” grumbled Bog. Then he sighed, “But if ye let me go, I will look for her. I don’t want any harm to come to Dawn.”

“Look for her, Bog.” Marianne rose, a set of keys clinking in her hand. “You’ll clear your name if she tells us you didn’t take her.”

“What does it matter?” grumbled Bog. “Ye made up yer mind about me when ye didn’t believe me in the first place. I will look, then I will leave, and I never want to see ye or another one of your kind near my forest again.” He sighed in relief as the shackles on his wrists were unclasped. With a groan, he flexed his hands, trying to work out the soreness from being held in place for hours.

Marianne stepped back as he pulled the rope off his chest, cutting it neatly with his nails. Bog didn’t look at her, rising to his feet and testing each wing in turn. They were a little more torn and battered, but still functional.

“My staff?” Bog growled, stalking to the open door of the cell, his legs moving stiffly. The guard stepped aside, bowing to him.

“Against the wall.” Marianne followed him out and gestured to the wall next to the door. Bog said nothing, grabbing his staff and running his hands over the shaft, making sure it was in one piece. He waited in silence, not looking at Marianne as she opened the door.

“Bog, I trust you,” Marianne stated as he loomed over her in passing. He said nothing, his wings rattling for a brief moment. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

*

It hurt to look at Bog. Marianne escorted him through the castle without a word said. He was understandably furious after his treatment, glowering and growling as he stalked through the hall behind her. The moment they reached an exit, he was gone, taking off with a rattling of his wings. He did not look back.

Marianne took a deep breath, watching him leave, unsure of what he was going to do. Being truthful with him was the only way to send him off. If it turned out, he had told the truth, she would make things right. It didn’t matter if she had to walk into his forest and hunt him down, she would not let him go without a fight.

*

Bog circled the fairy rock quickly. It was still daylight, and many fairies were going on about their business. He swept low, searching for Dawn’s scent. The princess had worn perfume the previous evening, a distinctive odor stronger than her natural scent. That was what he searched for.

He caught the scent off her balcony, refreshing it in his mind. A moment later, he caught a faint whiff of it at the base of the fairy rock, mingled with other scents. Roland. Two other soldiers. An elf. The elf.

The elf’s scent made Bog’s lip curl. Once again, he was involved, and his scent was stronger than Dawn’s or the other scents. Bog deduced it was likely because the fairies flew, possibly taking Dawn with them. He set off with a growl, following the elf’s clearer scent trail and the path he had taken through the wildflowers.

Bog crossed the Fairy Lands quickly, stopping when Sunny’s path crossed a stream. He landed and fell to his hands and knees, dipping his head into the cool water, opening his mouth to drink. Bog laid down in the stream briefly, letting the water wash away the blood stuck to his armor and provide a little cooling relief to his sore muscles.

Then he was off again, following the scent trail, feeling far more refreshed. He went over his expectations. This was some sort of plot between the elf and Roland. He could expect at least two soldiers, Roland, and the elf. Even after his beating, he could take all of them at once. He would rescue Dawn, get her home, and then leave without any further communication. That was his plan.

*

Sunny slunk around the backside of the old house. The two soldiers who had been inside, were currently outside for a break. They had taken a long break outside multiple times during the day, and they always lasted almost an hour. Sunny watched them and realized they stayed toward the front of the house.

The last time they came outside, he snuck around to the back of the house and made an opening. He managed to get inside the house, into a room they weren’t occupying. Emboldened, Sunny decided the next time they left the house, he would find Dawn.

Getting Dawn out of the house before nightfall would be risky, but all they really had to do was get to the nearby town, and they would be safe. Dawn was fast, faster than he could run. Sunny just had to find her, get her out, and get as far as they could before the soldiers saw her.

Sunny climbed through the opening he made, then crossed a room with sagging walls to another door. He had to work at the door, which was jammed into the frame, but after a few minutes, it popped open with a thunderous crack.

Fearing the sound was loud enough to alert Dawn’s captors, Sunny froze and listened. “Who’s there?” Dawn’s voice came from the room. Sunny pushed the door open, having to force it. There was a burlap bag lying on one side of the room, but no signs the fairies outside had heard him.

“Dawn?” Sunny rushed over to the bag, patting it.

“Sunny?” The bag shifted about.

“Shh, be quiet, I’ll get you out.” Sunny whispered, pulling out a pocket knife and getting to work on the knot holding the bag closed. Within moments he had the knot undone, and with a stifled squeal, Dawn crawled out of the bag and hugged him. “We gotta go.” Sunny gestured to the open door. “Right now!”

“Okay.” Dawn glanced around, unfurling her wings to follow him.

“Do you remember what happened?” Sunny whispered as they snuck through the door and out the back. “Roland threw some sort of amnesia dust on you, so you need to know, it was him.”

“I don’t remember anything,” whimpered Dawn as they went into the tall grass behind the house. “I woke up in that bag, and it was all dark, and I was so afraid!”

“Okay.” Sunny glanced around. “Let’s get out of here before they realize you’re gone!”

*

Bog followed Sunny’s trail to the tree the elf had observed the house from for most of the day. Growling as he took in the scent, Bog took a moment to think about the trail. The elf was alone and had been here for a considerable amount of time. Dawn was nowhere to be seen, and he could not smell her.

Surveilling the area, Bog spotted the old house and two soldiers standing in front. Bog took a deep breath, catching the elf’s scent again, heading to the house. He dropped out of the tree, following the scent trail. It led to the house, and Bog scowled, watching the two soldiers go inside just as he reached the house.

Shouting came from the house, and Bog sank into the tall grass, observing the soldiers. They flew outside the house, circled it, then rose up higher, looking for something. It wasn’t difficult for Bog to figure out what it was they were looking for, catching a whiff of Dawn and elf as the breeze shifted.

Growling, Bog came closer, keeping his eyes on the two fairies in the air. His senses told him where the elf and Dawn were, and that it was likely the elf was helping Dawn. Bog’s plates shifted, his pauldrons flaring as he prepared. At any moment, they would see Dawn and the elf. When they did, Bog would make his move.

There was a shout from one of the soldiers, calling the other to his side. Both flew in the same direction. Bog heard a shout, then Dawn screaming as he launched himself into the air, staff swinging up to catch the first soldier entirely unawares.

The fairy flew through the air and rolled into the grass, a single hit from Bog rendering him unconscious. The second turned to face him, drawing his sword. It didn’t clear the scabbard as Bog attacked with lightning-quick speed, smashing him into the ground with his staff. From there, Bog turned his attention to Dawn and the elf.

“Boggy!” Dawn shouted, waving to him. The elf yelped and hid behind her as Bog flew to them.

“Are ye okay, Dawn?” Bog landed in front of her, and she threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, Bog, what happened to you?” She looked up, horrified at all the cuts and bruises.

“Your father will explain when ye get home,” growled Bog, reaching down to pick her up in one arm. He snagged the elf in the other hand, by his overalls and lifted into the air.

“Hey!” Sunny protested, only to have Bog shoot him a dirty glare.

Bog flew them into the middle of the nearby town and landed in the square, wanting to make sure Dawn ended up with the local guards to be escorted to the castle. He set her down, and she hugged him again, kissing him on the cheek.

He turned away from her, hating to do it as she reached for him, asking why he didn’t take them all the way back to the castle. And he gently pushed her away, taking off without a word, heading home.

Chapter Text

When Dawn arrived safely at the castle with Sunny and the pair of them relayed what happened to Dagda and Marianne, they sat in complete silence, trying not to react. Then, Dawn had to ask the question.

“What happened to Bog? Why was he all cut up?” she asked innocently, looking from her father, who immediately averted his eyes in shame, then to her sister, who looked incredibly sad.

“A mistake,” sighed Dagda. “A horrible mistake, which we are going to rectify. We’re going to arrest Roland right now.”

“Do I get to punch him?” growled Marianne, holding up a fist, her sadness shifting quickly into a rage.

“Yes,” scowled Dagda. “I only hope we can find a way to reach out to Bog to apologize.”

“But why was Bog beat up?” Dawn looked at her father, repeating the question.

“I thought he took you,” replied Dagda. “He fought back when I had soldiers bring him to the dungeon for questioning.”

Dawn’s lower lip quivered, and her baby blue eyes glistened, filling with tears. “You hurt Bog for something he didn’t do? I’m never going to see him again? I liked him. He didn’t deserve that.”

“We’re going to fix it!” Marianne got to her feet, pounding a fist into the palm of her hand. “But first, Roland is getting what’s coming to him.”

*

Roland listened to the reports about how the Bog King was released and seen heading back to his forest. He wasn’t sure what to make of why he had been released. The news of Dawn’s return had not reached him yet, so he was unprepared when Marianne found him in the common area of the castle. Her father and half a dozen soldiers were at her back.

“Roland,” Marianne called out to him with a thin-lipped smile fixed on her face. “Do you have anything to say?”

“Marianne?” Roland gave her his most charming smile, twirling a lock of his golden hair around a finger. “I’ve just been seeing to my duties, nothing more, sweet cakes.”

“You didn’t, by any chance, attempt to cause a war between our kingdom and the Dark Forest, did you?” Marianne kept her smile, but the furious glint in her eyes made Roland take a step back.

“Now, hold on there, what’s this about?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out when the soldiers return with the two men you left guarding Dawn after you kidnapped her and attempted to blame it on the Bog King.” Marianne’s wings rose, and she took another step forward as the color drained from Roland’s face. “I knew you were awful, but this, this is treason.”

Roland didn’t see her fist coming, catching him square in the nose with enough force that he staggered back and fell. Soldiers surrounded the downed fairy, lifting him between them.

“Ya bwoke mah nose!” Roland gasped, blinking at the sensation of blood flowing over his face. His eyes widened in horror over the state of his face, not even bothering to fight with the soldiers as they dragged him past Marianne.

“I can’t believe that’s what he’s concerned about,” groaned Marianne, rubbing her forehead as her father stepped to her side.

“We’ll take care of Roland,” sighed Dagda. “What are we going to do about reaching to Bog and apologizing?”

“Nothing less than me going into that forest and dragging him out will do,” stated Marianne, turning her eyes to her father. “You didn’t see his face or hear him when I let him go. He was so angry and upset that I didn’t believe him.”

“I overreacted,” stated Dagda, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I should not have brought in soldiers to arrest him. With the information I had at hand, it seemed like the correct thing to do.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” grumbled Marianne. “This is all on Roland, and now, I’m going to fix it. I’m going to fly into that forest, and he will talk to me.”

“Right now?” Dagda blinked at her. “It’s night.”

“I am not going to sleep until this is made right.” Marianne turned to her father, giving him a quick hug. “I will be fine. I can take care of myself.”

Without another word, Marianne left the common area, her wings billowing out behind her and head high. She could do this. She would do this.

*

Bog settled into his throne with a growl, waving his scepter to send his goblins away. Over the last few hours, he had been down to see the healers and had the worst of his injuries seen to. They stitched numerous gashes, including a couple on his face, applied a healing salve, and gave him medicine to dull the pain from the injuries they couldn’t do anything about.

A sword had broken off a chunk of his left pauldron, leaving a crack that went all the way to the tendons connecting it to his shoulder. It could not be stitched and a length of white fabric wrapped around it, holding the pieces together so it would heal properly.

As much as a crack in his armor hurt, it paled in comparison to the emotional injury currently raging in his heart. He had opened himself up to that woman, and in turn, she had driven a dagger into his chest. And it stuck there, burning and twisting with every thought.

Bog had a few bites of food, then carried a full bottle of goblin ale to his throne, hoping it would dull his thoughts enough to stop thinking about her. So far, it wasn’t working. He could see her face in his thoughts, how she smiled at him, then it was interrupted with the look she gave him when her soldiers were beating him.

Revolted.

Disgusted.

And he was rejected because she didn’t believe him. He had opened himself to her, telling her things that he had never shared with another soul. Things that should have made her realize, he wasn’t capable of doing what he was accused.

Except, they were right. He had shown up days earlier with the intent to do the very thing he was accused. Did he have some part to play in their conclusion? No, this wasn’t his fault. They wouldn’t have attacked him if they hadn’t already made up his mind based on what they thought of him.

“Bog, dear?” Griselda approached the throne, wringing her hands. “What happened?”

“I was a fool,” growled Bog, tipping the bottle up to take a long drink. “Please, leave me alone, Mother. I do not want to discuss it.” Griselda nodded sadly, leaving her son alone to sulk.

Bog sighed, slumping back into his throne, raising his eyes to the large, spider web skylight above his throne. Moonlight shone through it, illuminating the entire room. There was a strange fluttering movement against the moon. Bog squinted, trying to figure out what it was, then realized it was getting bigger.

With a snarl, Bog grabbed his staff, unsure of what was coming for him, but whatever it is moved with anger in its wings.

*

Being able to fly made it easy to get through the Dark Forest. By the light of the moon, Marianne kept up high, spotting goblins here and there going about their business. They didn’t see her. Several times, she almost flew into a spider web or had to navigate a thick patch of briars.

The Dark Forest was frightening and uninviting, but Marianne had made up her mind to reach the castle, and she did. Goblins were positioned all around it, and she realized it would be easy for Bog to turn her away if she attempted to go through the guarded entrances.

A glint of light on the top of the ragged old stump revealed another entrance. Marianne circled the skylight from up high. She had flown lower and spotted Bog sitting on his throne. It was the only direct way to him. Marianne hoped she could hit the glass with enough momentum to break through it, took a breath, then flew as fast as her wings could take her to the skylight.

The glass shattered all around her, surprisingly thinner than she expected. Marianne landed in front of Bog, her wings flared, ignoring the shower of glittering shards bouncing off her body. A few left small scratches, but nothing serious. For a moment, Bog stared at her, his brow wrinkled and mouth gaping in confusion. Then he snapped his mouth shut, rising and advancing on her with a growl.

“Get out of my throne room! Get out of my kingdom! Get out of my life!” Bog roared, swinging his scepter, attempting to chase her out.

“I am not leaving until we talk!” Marianne easily evaded the blows, drawing her sword to fend off the heavier weapon.

“No!” Bog shouted, going after her, wings rattling, eyes fixed on her. “Go away!”

They circled the throne room, with Bog furiously going after her, up over his throne, across the floor, then up into the air among the hanging, spiked amber lights. Bog’s anger and the goblin ale made him slower and less agile, and the limited time he had spent sparring with Marianne, teaching her, made a difference in how she fought him. She knew his moves and his patterns.

“Bog, please!” Marianne circled him, attempting to keep her sword focused on his staff, while he seemed intent on actually striking her. “I came here for you!”

“I don’t care,” hissed Bog, swinging at her again. “Get away from me!”

Marianne scowled, concentrating on fighting him. She didn’t have a choice in the matter as long as he kept pushing her away. They circled several more times, their speed and constant clashes quickly wearing them out.

“Leave!” Bog roared a final time, landing in front of his throne in a defeated slump, breathing hard. “Ye got what ye wanted, and I want nothing to do with ye!”

“Bog.” Marianne landed in front of him, fighting to catch her breath. “I came here for you.”

Bog snarled, then dropped his staff with a clang, tilting his head up to expose his neck. “Go ahead, get it over with. Just kill me. Don’t hesitate. It’s what yer ultimately here for, isn’t it? Take me off guard, make me trust ye, then kill me and put an end to the monster in the Dark Forest?”

Marianne stared at Bog for a moment, able to see the pulse among the muscles in his neck, that perfect sinewy column that asked for touch, not the sword. He was beaten, exhausted, and injured. “Why would you think I want that?” Marianne whispered, sheathing her sword.

“Because I’m the monster yer people tell stories about to frighten their children. Because I’m nothing more than what ye see, and I am tired of it. Ye couldn’t take me for my word, and ye allowed me to be taken and beaten! What do ye care about me?” Bog slumped, falling to his knees, eyes closed. “Ye couldn’t believe me when I told ye the truth. I do not lie.”

“I’m sorry,” stated Marianne quietly. She kneeled before him, wrapping her arms over his shoulders as he kept his head up, grimacing and still. “I love you, Bog. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?” He said nothing, unmoving. “Bog, I came here for you. I made a mistake. Thanks to you, Dawn’s home and Roland and his men are sitting in a cell, most likely waiting for banishment for what they did.”

“Marianne, ye didn’t trust me when I needed ye too,” muttered Bog, lowering his head. “I trusted ye with things I never told anyone else, even after telling ye I trust no one. I wanted to trust ye.” He paused, whispering lower. “I wanted ye to trust me.”

“I know, and that is why I keep telling you, I came here for you, to fix it.” Marianne squeezed her arms around his neck. “I made a mistake. What can I do to make it better?”

“I saw how ye looked at me, how repulsed ye were,” growled Bog.

“Then, why am I here?” Marianne leaned back to look Bog in the eye, lifting her hands to the sides of his face, careful of the stitches. “I. Love. You.”

Bog’s eyes softened as he took a deep breath, gazing into her eyes. “Marianne.”

“You are not a monster, Bog. I love you, and I want you.” Marianne smiled. “Don’t let something someone else did get between us, because that’s what that whole plan was for, to drive us apart.”

“Ye weren’t the one beaten and imprisoned,” grumbled Bog. “Ye don’t know what it feels like to have someone ye decide to trust, suddenly turn on ye. It. Hurts. It still hurts.”

“Bog,” Marianne sighed, hugging him again. “I know exactly how that feels, and I am not going to walk away from you, because it was a mistake, based on bad information. I should have trusted you because you’ve never given me a reason not to. After everything we talked about last night, I want you. I came here for you.”

Bog swallowed, unable to hold back any longer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to trivialize what happened to ye.” He lifted a hand to gently stroke over her back, closing his eyes as he mulled over his choices. “Ye came here for me?”

“I’ve said it, how many times now?” Marianne laughed, squeezing him. “Dawn was in tears when we told her what happened to you. I’m not the only one who cares about you, Bog.”

“I’m still hurting,” grumbled Bog. “But I forgive ye. It wasn’t yer fault.” He sighed again, a smile spreading over his face. “Ye came here for me?”

“I love you, Bog,” Marianne repeated.

“I love ye, Marianne.” The words came out clumsily, but Bog said them with feeling, his voice cracking with emotion. “That’s why it hurt so much.” He relaxed, hugging her back. “I wanted ye from the moment ye stood up to me and punched me in the face.”

“Great. Let’s not tell my dad that, ever.” giggled Marianne. “Now, what can I do for you, Bog?”

Bog chuckled, a wave of relief washing away his remaining sorrows. The pain was still present, but fading with each moment, Marianne held him. “I don’t need ye to do anything for me, Marianne. Ye don’t need to work for my forgiveness.” He reached up to run a hand through her hair. “Ye don’t earn it. I gave it to ye.” And he pressed his lips to her forehead, unaware that they had gathered a sizable audience of very quiet goblins, including his mother, all staring at him and Marianne.

“Yeah.” Marianne’s face turned red, realizing just how surrounded they were. “Uhm, Bog.”

Bog blinked, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh.” He grimaced. “Oh! Everyone, get out of here!” He rose, gripping Marianne’s hand in his. Goblins scattered making noise that suspiciously sounded like giggling.

“Would you like to have some tea?” A single goblin stood by Bog, a huge smile spread over her face as she regarded Marianne. “Maybe some snacks?”

“This is my mother,” stated Bog, gesturing to her.

“Griselda.” The goblin continued smiling in an unsettling way. She turned to leave, waving to them. “I’ll be in the dining room.”

“Please ignore anything she says,” Bog whispered to Marianne, leaning toward her.

They stood for a moment, facing each other, crimson rising over their faces, spreading to the tips of their ears. Last time they stood this close, Marianne’s father interrupted them. Now, there was no one around.

It was Marianne who reached up, sliding her hands over Bog’s armored chest, gripping his collar to pull him closer. Bog tilted his head, hoping desperately he wouldn’t do anything stupid, like lose his balance or hit her in the eye with his nose. The kiss was quick, a tentative brushing of their lips, taking care to figure out how it felt, testing the waters.

Their eyes briefly opened, smiles spreading over both their faces at just how nice it was. Without warning, Marianne lunged at Bog, looping her arms around his neck to deliver a much more passionate kiss. He staggered back, overwhelmed by the sudden attention, wings fluttering with excitement, the heat of her fervor spreading quickly through him.

Griselda peeked through the door, stifling a pleased gasp at the sight of the pair of them, locked in such an amorous position. She stepped back through the door to leave them alone. There was nothing she could do to encourage them that they weren’t going to do on their own.