Chapter Text
Imagine if you will that you get to do something differently.
Decide to go to that party, buy that book, say yes to someone who gives an offer you later regret refusing.
Let’s go deeper; what if you could go back and change something in your past so that the outcome was different, because you believe it was the right thing.
Because you look back and think yourself foolish for not knowing - not reacting the right way-, for not jumping in when the situation needed it.
It’s such a small thing. But what if by doing that, doing the right thing at the right time… You changed nothing?
Or, everything changed. But the outcomewould always and inevitably be the same?
-
"Of course I’ll be taking both princesses’.”
“That wasn’t the deal!”
The fire in the Bog King’s eyes flared for a second before they flitted to the restrained fairy; the ferocity was enough to end any further arguments from the knight.
Though it did not stop him from approaching closer, or his hand from uncorking the Potion’s flask.
The Love Potion was a powerful thing. And -safe for himself- Bog had seen it breach as far as different species and race with its potency. With one clear throw at the immobile woman she would be unable to resist its effects.
All these things the Bog King noticed simultaneously, and these were the things that send his staff hard against Roland’s shiny breastplate, bringing him to a full halt.
It brought the man’s attention from Marianne, who it appeared to be where he had headed for to the goblin that held him at scepter’s point. “And what, pray, do you think you’re doing with that?”
It barely took any strength to swing the heavy staff around and so it wasn’t even all that difficult to grind the gnarled head into the armor to elect a whiny dull shriek, the material protesting even at a little manhandling.
Both the noise and his question sent a visible shudder down the other’s back, his smirk once cocky and self assured, dwindled into a meek ghost of its former glory.
“I…uh, nothin’. Nothin’ of course. Just wanted to give it to you, just how we agreed. In exchange for the princesses…sses…” His awkward laugh sounded false and equal parts suspicion and apprehension rose up as he quickly slapped the cork back onto the neck.
You didn’t need to be a fool to know what the man’s intentions were, and the Bog King was neither young nor as foolish as he’d once been. Given the man’s track history didn’t brighten his opinion any, as the two glared on from their respected positions.
The air thick with a tension neither wanted to be the first to break, the surrounding spectators holding their breath to see who would make the first move.
Unfortunately for some, a fight was not on today’s menu. A small commotion shattered the silence, and Stuff came waddling in at full tilt, going so fast she looked in danger of falling over her own feet.
“Sire! Sire! “ The gob couldn’t stop in time to prevent colliding with the sovereign’s ankle, jumping away before any punishing blows could fall.
”-Intruders! In the castle, sire!”
He’d already noticed that, and Bog scoffed. It wasn’t exactly hard to forget the sight of a horde of fae at his doorstep, awaiting orders from their captain.
Speaking of…The once confident knight wilted at the declaration and as one they turned to the direction the gasping servant had come.
Brutus, along with another snaggle’ toothed guard, stomped into view not a step – and maybe a few kicks - behind Thang. Carting three identical armored fae who, no doubt, had seen better days. One was even so worse for wear his brothers had to carry him. It was either that or being ‘carried ‘by Brutus, who sneered none too friendly as he shoved the unfortunate lot before their King.
"Friends of yours? “ Bog jeered, turning back to a not even attempting at guiltless smiling Roland.
“F-friends? Them? No, no…they’re more like…acquaintances…men of kin…old saloon buddies…”
"Roland! You sorry piece of- “
Marianne didn’t get the chance to call him whatever as one beaky guard piped up “They were snooping around and opening the cages sire –“ They looked very unable to do that anymore in fact, and by the look of their suits didn’t want to try again.- “We caught them, and their lil’ friend before any could escape.”
A tussled-up, fussing and cussing Sunny was thrown against the triplets backsides.
“D-Dawn! Marianne, oh are you alright I’m sorry I didn’t-“
Ah yes. The ‘small Elf in the Dark Forest ‘. Slippery little devil indeed. Somehow it just didn’t add up how such a generally ‘light hearted ’fae could think up something as deceitful as using the Love Potion on someone.
Then again…Evil could take root anywhere.
“Are the others still in the dungeon?”
A chorus of yes’s answered him, broken only by the small elf’s pitiful cry when the elf finally caught sight of Dawn, who was wrapped around Bog.
Going from her expression it was the happiest place to be glued to and any attempt to dissuade her failed – no matter how valiantly you tried.
Too deep in the Love Potion’s hold to be brought to her senses – whether unaware or uncaring – to even notice the ongoing commotion around her, Dawn only squeezed her arms tighter around the goblin king.
“That…”Roland made a gagging sound, looking greener than his suit, “-is STILL pretty disgusting.”
Bog gave the knight an equally disgusted sidelong glare, taking his hand off her shoulder to hold out before him, curling his fingers like the greedy claws of carrion.
“A princess for the potion.”
"Correction, the potion for the princess…es…ss…” Once again Roland’s perfectly perfect voice withered under the king’s perfectly horrid glare, for both he and the rapidly growing audience confirmed he should be wise to keep his arguments to himself.
Goblins all around began to appear like summoned out of thin air, creeping around corners and dangling from heights and niches usually impossible to achieve for flightless creatures. Everywhere you looked were the red and silver gleam of eyes, severly outnumbering the fairy knight and his small group.
With a sick jolt Roland realized they wouldn’t even hear him if he bellowed from the top of his lungs.
Goblins around him guffawed loudly. The ball was in his court now and everyone with half a brain knew it.
"P-perhaps we can re-negotiate here. “ He stammered, motioning with a hand towards his equally subdued ex. “Right? Marianne, darling help me out here. Talk some sense into your boyfriend, will ya?”
“He’s not my boyfriend!”
"I’m not her boyfriend!”
The two royals proclaimed simultaneously, locking eyes briefly before bristling as they turned away. The very idea!
"Well you’re obliviously something, but listen. Buggy-“
"Boggy.” Dawn corrected.
"BOG KING!!!”
"Err…right. Bog…King. “The fairy sounded doubtful of the title. He didn’t even look all that regal. What with that staff…and those, things on his head…like a crown of bracken.
Shifting uneasily under the scepter -still as he might hold himself, even a small motion like that made the metal grind into his armor to prevent it-, Roland knew that taking even a step would damage more than just the cuirass.
"Look I know we're all pretty civilized people here, we can figure out this little...mishap in two snaps. Guaranteed, no trouble at all."
Thrumming his wings in agitation, Bog snarled under his breath, cracking his digits in anticipation for the potion. His patience was thinning and this blundering idiot was trying to stall and be diplomatic with barely veiled stupidity. It did nothing but fuel his anger.
He jerked his head to the side with practiced force, the following pops and cracks effectively silencing Roland, who winced when the echoes bounced off the walls.
“It looks like we’re at a stand-still then. There’s only one potion and I see two princesses’ I’ve been tasked to rescue.”
"As I’ve told you before, sir KNIGHT, this one’s safe return wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Are you serious?!”
Bog glowered down at Marianne at her outburst, but surprisingly didn’t comment on it. Simply extending his hand out further he silently commanded Roland to make the exchange and be done with it.
"Bog, listen to me.”
"Be quiet Marianne.”
"But you can’t just-“
"I said BE QUIET!”
"Dawn I’m so sorry-“
-“Now hold on, let’s do some math here-“Growling in frustration the bog king considered just running the idiot through because once again he was stretching time, the longer these imbeciles lingered the harder it became to keep up this farce. It didnt help any that everyone kept talking over and through each other.
"I see two princesses and only one potion. Now how did that happen?”
"I took one hostage for the potion; rest assured you’ll get her once I get the potion.”
“But-“
-“QUIET! “
"Boggy? Why're you yelling at Roland, sugar pie?”
Dawn’s small question threatened a few of his subjects into giggling; one gesture from him had them cowering and shut up. Despite his fierce expression, his voice held little to no real malice when he spoke to her.
“Nothing you need to worry about, my princess. “
"Dawn, get away from him he’s no good- That’s the Bog King he’s- “ –
"Don’t you dare talk like that about my Kingie Wingy!”
The room cooled at the younger princess’ tone, her sweet face crumbled in a mockery of anger. Her expression soured further at the silence that followed, propping a fist on the swell of her hip and glaring – actually more like a very warm squint – at her once ‘best’ friend.
"I've finally found my true love! I can’t believe you – I thought we were friends - aren’t you happy for me Sunny? “
"-I, but the potion, it’s not real-“
"So that’s the truth then?” Sunny gulped and took a great interest in the ground. His hands clenched uselessly and empty. If he looked up now he would see that every pair of eyes was trained on him. Man, talk about belittling.
How stupid could he have been to listen to Roland for romantic advice? To fall for those excuses and to be further humiliated by his people when he tried to explain the whys and because’s. Had he been paying attention he would’ve seen the very tyrant that banned the magic-in-a-bottle wilt slightly before becoming a pricklier, harder version.
In effect, Marianne was looking at him with the saddest expression, but it was lost to his notice and nothing compared to the utter disgust and skin-crawling hating glare of the Bog King.
“I –I thought I wanted to but- “
“I suspect you’re proud of yourself?”
“NO! – I didn’t want to but Roland he- he got into my head I swear it.” He directed the last to the elder sister, looking centuries older for the guilt that poured off him in waves.
"I thought it was the answer, an easy way, a shortcut! But…I ended up bringing the both of you in danger. I …I didn’t mean to cause this much-“
-“Chaos? Disorder? “ The goblin king’s relentless snarls send him deeper into himself, wanting to disappear into the ground to escape the collective disapproval aimed at his head.
"I didn’t mean-”
"Safe it, I’m done discussing this. The Potion. Now.” Finding himself at the centre of attention (on a normal day would delight him, but today was totally not a good day) Roland blinked owlishly and made a face, almost impressively goblin-like in its disgust.
"You know I can just take them from you by force? Got a pretty impressive army waiting outside, nice perk for captain of the guard and future ruler, don’t you think?”
The sudden removal of the staff made Roland stumble on his last words, gaping at the hair fine scratches crisscrossing his breastplate before looking up at the sound of someone’s shocked gasp.
The goblin king was busy prying off one princess but he had clearly thought of another way of convincing him to agree and leave.
By using Marianne.
Brandishing his staff at her delicate throat Bog cracked a truly terrifying smile.
"If you even think about it, you’ll have her head returned instead. I’d like to see you try and explain her death to her father with blood on your hands, oh so chivalrous knight.”
Could it get any worse?, Marianne thought, trying to hold very still as the sharper edges of the decorative staff dug into her skin, pressing on her pulse and making it hard to breath properly.
Dawn’s soft noises of protest rose steadily into loud whimpers, finally outright sobbing when he wretched her arms open and held her at a distance. He honestly tried to be gentle with the claws, but she was stubborn.
"No no Boggy-please-”
-"Quiet, this is for your own good. Well? “
It almost looked like he wanted to press on, test his luck against the goblin’s hunger for murder. Could he get to her fast enough?
"I’d best decide quickly, for I fear my arm is getting very tired.”
Marianne’s sharp yelp brought his attention to the small drop of blood tickling down the woman’s neck. Bog was the only one smiling, and it was a terrible smirk filled with black promises. Oh yes, oh yes indeed I am evil. Want to see just how evil I can be?
"And we wouldn’t want any needless bloodshed, now would we?”
Fight decided, Roland yielded.
“No, we wouldn’t.” Quick as a whip the staff swung round, knocking the flask out of his grip and landing not a moment later in his own.
“Good.” He basically threw the struggling Dawn in his direction, backing away from the reaching hands like they promised pain.
"Now I suggest you take that army of yours and march right back from where you came from, least I make an example out of your dear princess here.”
Swinging the staff back towards Marianne where he let it hover over her head like the proverbial guillotine.
"Boggy, please.-“
Dawn was in hysterics, reaching for her ‘love‘ without getting any closer. The knight had trouble keeping a firm grip on her as she fought against his hold. Being embraced by anyone other than her sweet Boggy felt wrong and she didn’t like it.
“-please, please let me go-I’ll be good - I won’t sing anymore, I’ll be quiet- why, Boggy, don’t let them take me- “
The rest of her pleas were lost under her body wracking sobs.
“Listen here Buggy; it doesn’t look like she wanna leave…perhaps-?”
Roland was interrupted by the vicious snarl from the bog king; he wasn’t bluffing.
“Get. Out.”
He did an impressive display of trust ( or plain idiocy) by turning his back to the goblin, his arms clamped around Dawn with her wings pinned to her back so she wouldn’t try and fly off. The one time she needed to be strong and it did nothing.
Before walking out of sight with the triplets and a helpless, albeit distraught, Sunny the blond knight too one last look over his shoulder. He was too far to make out his expression, but Marianne could hear the sly, charismatic smile in his voice as he called out.
”Don’t worry darling, I’ll think of something. You can bet your kingdom on it.”
‘Oh my stars’, she thought wryly, watching with mutely glee as one small goblin with a beak kicked a bronze triplet‘s behind to get them going. Things definitely got worse, alright. And if her gut was right any sort of plans Roland had festering in the last remaining brain cels they wouldn’t be able to put a positive spin on the mess she sat in now.
Everything was so messed up. And in such a short amount of time, too. Underneath the swirling confusion of her emotions Marianne knew there was an explanation, an out. Anything really to make sense of what just transpired.
She wracked her brain to find the answer, to pinpoint just exactly when it had all gone horribly wrong. The solution kept eluding her, slipping through her grip like the Bog King slowly slipping out of reach.
Emotions are traps. Fear, confusion and grief were feelings she linked with weak , any sign of being not strong, not hard enough to do what needed to be done was not who she was. Marianne didn’t do defenseless. She didn’t act like a damsel that needed rescuing.
Let the entire kingdom do and be what they wanted; she was never going to be what was expected from her. And she certainly wasn’t going to be kept against her will as live bait.
Bog should consider himself a lucky goblin; if she wasn’t being held back by the burly toad goblins she would have punched him –again – for even believing a word Roland had hissed in falsehood.
Maybe a few more to be on the safe side.
“What…in the name of the God’s do you think you’re DOING?!!!” In the face of her fury he replied like the conversation bored him to no end. “Ensuring compliance from the Fairy Kingdom, obliviously.” Scoffing , she retaliated.
“By taking ME prisoner now?” For that he gave an extremely brittle smirk that was more a grimace, his shoulders hunched like a century old tree that saw too many battering winds “A thing or two you’ll one day learn highness. Is that when opportunity rises, the strong will take it.”
“This isn’t like you!”
“As if you would know better than everyone else. For all you know I’m acting perfectly within expectations.” Her answering retort died down to a squeak. He was being exactly who she ‘thought’ he was all her life.
Growing up hearing all about the mighty terrifying Bog King and his terrible deeds were just stories and nonsense she blindly believed, reforming into the want to change them. Even as young as she was the strong desire to align and join their respected Kingdoms were based on the belief that not all stories had to be true. The prejudices’ hadn’t been challenged for years, keeping fast to the stereotype that all Goblins were evil, that everything about the Dark Forest was wild and beastly and dangerous.
It was utter nonsense and she had known ever since their flight ( hells, even during the spar there were instances that made her doubt all but swell in a confusing plethora of old views and personal beliefs)
“But…you’re not…because you’re…”
“I’m not ‘what’? “ He leered, bending down further into her face.
And although she searched for any sign of that gentleness, any remaining sliver of the emotions his eyes were bound to betray there was nothing but the treachery he held against her.
She wrenched her head away, refusing to look at him as her anger flared up not only at his betrayal ( so much like Roland, but nothing like him too ) but the emotions battling away inside her chest like a flock of vicious wasps.
‘Had nothing been real? ‘Marianne had never wished for much in her life. Small favors and whims, sure. But now she was torn in two, longing to go back to what they were, what they were becoming in one short night. And wishing she’d seen earlier how it was all a fluke, nothing but illusions and falsehoods.
Like the love potion in his blasted claws…and how Dawn was most likely being torn apart.
Said flask was thrown up and down in a restless juggle; the liquid sloshing dangerously loud. His expression turned thoughtful, staring at the flask in quiet wonder.
“I just…thought you were more. “
From the corner of her eye she spied a flicker of it, that softness. By the time she spun around to glare and growled it had died like the last flihp of a candle.
“Guess I was wrong.”
Another beat and Bog turned his own back to her.
“Take her to the dungeon.”
“Hey- wait a minute- You can’t just stuff me away-“
“I can and I will, princess.”
“BOG, you listen to me this is POINTLESS! What good comes off – “
- “QUIET! “
-“Sire? –d’you need any help?-“
Ever find yourself in a situation where it’s totally inappropriate to giggle in the face of immediate danger? Well,…
“No.”
For a small moment she was back at the elf’s festival – restrained by smelly creatures with fangs and claws, looking on with dismay as her sister was stuffed in a burlap like she wasn’t but a pile of acorns. Where under bright lights the bog king challenged and threatened her in a gnashing snarling voice, much the same like he was using now. Remembering how ugly he was, the raw fury when he mocked her.
It was all switched around now, but the familiar taste of anger sat on the back of her tongue, waiting for her to slip and be as pricklier as his face. To grow thorns and cleave off flesh with her very words. To have the same control she lacked back then to be taken from her again. And to be unable to do anything about it.
Unless.
Hadn’t they done this already? Danced around the pain of past wrongs, looked into each other and seen not only a reflection, but also a kinship. It had frightened her at first. To see the same betrayal mirrored in his blue-as-morning-sky eyes. They were both beings hardened by hurt, armored to the teeth against it. And both terrified of the gentleness hiding behind their walls.
“…Bog…Please, listen...”
Like she knew he would, of course he would! , his frame flinched away from the softly spoken request. Kindness hurt more than fury.
“I’ve listened enough. Take her away, and lock her in the dungeon!”
-“O-Okay BK..- “
As she was dragged away she had stolen glimpses of how he held himself. How he walked to the boney throne like he was walking through a thick mud. How the mighty Bog King, who snarled and growled and who’d kill to safe his own hide and protect his kingdom, slumped down on the throne and-
They rounded the corner next, the goblins grip on her forearms near to bruising. She barely resisted their manhandling, quietly stepping when they didn’t half lug her forward.
Quietly, Marianne mused how in the seven hells she was going to break through this.
When the bars slammed down behind her, she was already thinking of escape; she’d seen windows, small niches that were more likely made because of age in the rotten stump.
If she found a good solid rock to work away the wood...
It would be long and grueling, not to mention time consuming. Settling down on a mushroom, Marianne took a deep breath to ease into herself once. Better, not alright. But getting there. With a glance towards the ceiling – to the throne room, that echoing chamber so perfect for a spar, hollowed and gnarled to hold any nightmarish court – she settled down to wait.