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In the garden, cloaked in the darkness of the night, was where you’d find Norman after a long day’s work.
It was the only place on all of the estate that offered him even a shred of privacy. A place where he could vent his frustrations and let out his pent up feelings without having to worry about anyone interrupting him. The boy knew he must’ve looked pathetic - with the endless rivers of tears that streamed down his soot covered face, tainting the clear droplets with the charcoal of the five fireplaces Peter forced him to scrub every day - but he didn’t care. No matter how hard he tried, how much he tried to grin and bear it, he always wound up back here. Eyes trained up at the stars, cursing their existence, begging the universe to somehow miraculously bring back his mother.
Norman knew, deep down, he was acting childish. That no matter who he prayed to or how many times he asked, there was no force in this universe that could raise his beloved parent from the dead. But he still clung onto hope, onto the one impossibility that might be his salvation, for every other shred of light in the pitch blackness of his life had been snuffed out by his step-father. One by one, he’d found everything. The money he’d hidden deep under the floorboards, a few coins and dollars that he’d found when doing the laundry. The suit the seamstress in town offered to tailor for him at the sight of his ratty old clothes, a way to pay him back for his never-ending kindness.
Even the invitation to the princess’ royal ball that Norman had received, with his name written on it and everything, that man had snatched straight from his hand the moment it was within his grasp.
“What’s this?” Peter asked, that disapproving tone setting the boy on edge as he plucked the envelope right out of his fingertips. “The princess invited you to her ball?”
“Yes.” Norman said meekly, avoiding direct eye contact with his step-father, not sure how he would react to the burning question he needed to know the answer to. “Surely, that means I’m allowed to go?”
“ You? Go to the ball? ” His step-father scoffed, turning the letter around in his hand, examining every angle of it, as if trying to prove that it was a forgery just to give his step-son a reason to stay home. “If the princess knew the truth about you, she never would’ve invited you in the first place.” A twisted grin had made its presence known on the man’s face, distorting his features to make them look more like the demon he was. “A sickly boy like you is hardly fit to become prince, wouldn’t you agree?”
No, Norman thought. The one to rule by the princess’s side should be whoever she loves, not whoever’s most fit to rule. It might’ve been true that the boy wished that could be him. That he could be the one to hold Emma’s hand, to help her rule their kingdom with kindness and justice. But if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, if her heart belonged in the hands of someone else, then who was he to force his love upon her? Who was he to fall to his knees and beg for her hand in marriage, when he would never make her nearly as happy as who she truly wanted to be with? All he wanted was the chance to get her attention, to see if her emerald eyes sparkled just a bit brighter when she met his eyes. And if they sparkled brighter for someone else, so be it.
As long as she got her happily ever after.
“Yes.” Was the word Norman finally settled on, the singular syllable that prevented him from breaking free from his father’s grasp.
“I’m glad we’re in agreement, then.” Peter tore the envelope neatly in half with one divisive nod of his head. “Now, go wash up and start preparing dinner for your brothers.” He ordered, turning to leave before calling back after him in a musing tone. “You know how the two of them get, after a hard day’s work of studying.”
And with that, his step-father had pinched out yet another flame - the last candle burning in the darkness, his final hope destroyed.
Maybe it wasn’t so pathetic after all that he’d wound up out here tonight. On the evening of the ball, the one he should’ve been enjoying alongside every other resident of the kingdom. Instead he’d been damned to a night of chores. Forced to stay behind, to scrub and polish every single surface until they shined brighter than the sun. Making sure they were good enough to eat off of, a characteristic that Norman was thankful Peter had yet to make him test. Vincent and Cislo had, no doubt, arrived at the ball by now. They’d be the talk of the town with their impeccably tailored suits - a sewing job that each of them had complimented the boy with a sympathetic grin.
But no amount of sympathy could make up for the fact that they hadn’t even thought to try to change their father’s mind and let him come.
It wasn’t as if Norman’s step-brothers were cruel, by any means. In fact, they’d always been kind to the boy. Saving parts of their meals and sneaking them up to his room when they could. Thanking him for every chore he did, even the ones that he thought they didn’t notice. Leaving him to his own devices when he’d done his work for the day, not ever once thinking to add onto his already packed workload. Though no matter how hard he tried, the boy couldn’t excuse the fact that they’d never once tried to stand up to their father for his sake. Not even in their youth - when there was a lesson to be learned, when they didn’t quite yet know to what extent their punishment would be if they spoke out against their step-brother’s mistreatment.
“We would have.” Vincent told Norman once, when he was shining their shoes before the dinner they had to attend, one that the boy would be left behind during. “But neither of us wanted to run the risk of getting hurt, right, Cislo?”
“Or, worse.” Cislo’s eyes darkened at the thought that flashed through his mind - of their father’s cruelty, no doubt. “Having him hurt you more because of us.”
But why? Norman wanted to ask. Why would you care about him hurting me, when I don’t care about it myself? It took him only a few hours to realize they were lying. That not once had they ever considered their step-brothers safety, but rather told him so in order to keep him on their good side. Seldom had they spoken of that topic since but whenever he remembered his step-brothers’ words, a bad taste settled itself on his tongue. Tonight it tasted more bitter than ever, with the knowledge that he was nothing but pitied by even the few who were supposed to protect him. The family who was supposed to keep him safe and warm, instead using him for their own personal gain. To save money for their lavish evening excursions like tonight’s ball.
Right then, for all Norman knew, they could have been dancing with Emma across the ballroom floor. They could have been sweeping her right off of her feet, eyes glittering in that way the boy always imagined they would when she found her one true love. She could have already asked for her father’s hand in their marriage, either one of them beaming enthusiastically by her side as she introduced them to the king. The boy hated how much it broke his heart, to think that he was missing out on such a big night. Missing out on his one chance to dance with the girl he’d been dreaming of for years, of missing out on seeing her smile up close for the first, and maybe the only, time. Looking down into the seemingly endless abyss of the well, a thought crept into his mind.
If there was any truth to that superstition surrounding wishing at wells, now would be the perfect time to test it.
“Please.” Norman whispered into the well, hoping it would somehow still work, even if he didn’t have a coin to drop in. “Please, let me go to the ball.”
The boy kept his eyes shut, too scared to open them until he was thoroughly proven wrong. He could’ve been sitting there for hours in the quiet of that forest, accompanied only by the chirping of crickets and the distant sounds of their farm animals cooped up in their pens, had he not heard someone clicking their tongue. At first, he thought he was losing his mind. That he was hallucinating the disappointment in that popping sound, at the way it seemed to draw closer the longer he lost himself in the inky darkness behind his eyelids. Then he heard the tell-tale crunching of leaves, the snapping of twigs, the gentle breaths of someone else. There was no mistaking it. Tonight, Norman’s wish would be granted. Or he was wrong and this stranger wasn’t here to be kind - rather, to murder him.
Either option, the boy decided he wouldn’t mind.
“Yo.” Words cut through the silence like a knife so suddenly, they nearly startled him backwards. “How would you like to go to the ball?”
Norman blinked at the voice that snapped him out of his stupor. The boy who stood before him - or sat, rather, perched precariously on the lip of the well - couldn’t have been much older than himself. A chunk of black hair covered his one eye, the rest of it sticking up wildly around his head in strands that reminded him of bug legs. His other eye, its iris a dark mossy green, narrowed at Norman as if appraising him. Assessing him for how worth the boy’s time would be spent here, helping him get to the ball instead of off elsewhere, doing far more useful things. At a first glance, Norman figured he wasn’t of a much higher status than him. He could’ve been a thief, for all the boy knew, with how brooding and mysterious he was.
But the gemstones that decorated his cloak made him reluctant to believe that the owner of such a magnificent piece could possibly share such a lowly class title with himself.
“Well?” The stranger cocked an eyebrow this time, asking as if he’d been waiting hours for an answer. “Are you gonna keep gawking at me or are we gonna help you get ready for this ball, before it’s too late?”
“Y-Yes, of course!” Norman bolted straight up, brushing the dirt from his knees in a feeble attempt to make himself look slightly more presentable. “But, who are you?”
“The name’s Ray.” He hopped down off of the well and, for the first time, the white-haired boy noticed that it wasn’t just his cloak that was decorated with gemstones - they accented his entire suit, bright glimmers of light against the inky fabric. “I’m here as your own personal wish granter.”
Norman pinched himself once to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
The pain shot through his shoulder, as sharp and hot as he remembered it to be. Though instead of crying out, he began to laugh. An exhalation of breath so freeing - as if every chuckle broke yet another link of the chains binding him to his step-father’s will - Norman never wanted it to end. There was magic in the air, real magic, and it was here to whisk him away from all of the sweat and grime he’d grown so used to in these last ten years. Five years old. That was the age at which he’d lost his mother, the age at which his own family had put him to work as their personal chef, maid, and whatever else struck their fancy. While he hated to admit it, even in his own head, there was nothing that could deny the sadness that’d tainted these past ten years.
For once in his life, Norman finally felt like things could change - even if only for a night.
“You mean…” Norman almost didn’t want to speak the words out loud, eyes still wide and mind still in a state of disbelief, though the wand in his hand reassured any lingering doubts in his mind. “You’re my fairy godmother.”
Ray groaned, rolling his eyes at the sound of the name. “Please don’t call me that.”
“But personal wish granter just sounds so…”
“Clunky, I know.” The boy shot back, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear, his pointed ear. “But it’s better than having people thinking of me as their parent or something.”
“Ah, my apologies.” Norman bowed, an instinctive reaction to any criticism he faced. “I’ll just call you Ray.”
“Sounds good to me.” Ray nodded, his gaze falling thoughtfully back to the tragic state of Norman’s outfit, tapping his lip with the tip of his wand as the seconds ticked past. “So, where to begin with this mess…”
“Don’t worry about making me look too nice.” Norman replied, rubbing the back of his neck shyly as his cheeks reddened. He wasn’t used to talking to anyone aside from his family. Let alone, talking to anyone without having time to clean up first. “I just need a suit and a ride to the ball, that’s all.”
“All the more reason to make you look extra nice.” The boy opened his mouth to object, but the fairy shut him up with a finger to his lips. “No buts. You deserve this, Norman, for all of the work you’ve done for your step-father and brothers.”
No, I don’t. Norman thought, though he didn’t dare argue that point with Ray out loud. After all, the fairy could change his mind. He could decide that he was more of a pain than his magic was worth and disappear off into the night, leaving the white-haired boy with nothing but regret. A grief so deep and aching, that it’d crush the last bit of will to live he had left into a million pieces. Such tiny and numerous shards that he’d never be able to put them back together. Norman knew he’d been walking on thin ice lately, in terms of keeping that one thought at bay. A thought that he knew was a last resort, a way out when there was nothing left he could do to save himself.
And Norman wasn’t all that eager to face his greatest fear until he absolutely knew this world had no hope left for him.
“White would bring out your hair, but blue would bring out your eyes…” Ray had started to mumble to himself, bringing Norman back into reality. It was sweet how much this fairy was fretting over him, how much he cared about making this night special. “Aha! I know!” He cheered finally, taking a few steps back from the white-haired boy, determination burning brightly in his eye. “Now, all I’m gonna need you to do is stand there and spin, three times, in a circle. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure, but what-”
Norman’s lips shut the moment he started spinning.
A cloud of mist - a sort of milky, shimmering fog - had materialized around him. As the boy started to turn, he watched in awe as the mist seemed to eat away at the fabric clinging to his skin. The ratty remnants of his tunic transformed within his first rotation, the dark grey cotton shifting into a velvet so white, Norman wondered how he was going to keep it this clean the entire evening. With a second turn, his pants, too, had turned that same snowy shade. By the third time he spun around, the boy looked barely recognizable in the pale moonlight. His hair had been combed, the dirt scrubbed clean from his skin. A blue gray tie had materialized, fitted snugly around his neck, perfectly matching the accents of a similar fabric on his suit jacket.
It was stunning, really, what just a bit of magic had done to him.
Ray seemed to agree, wolf-whistling as he looked Norman up and down. “Not bad, if I do say so myself. With a suit like that, I’m sure the princess will mistake you for a prince, no doubt.”
“Oh, shut up.” Norman mumbled, but the crimson in is cheeks did nothing to hide the effect of the fairy’s compliment on him.
“Just telling you the truth.” Ray mused as he adjusted the cuffs on the boy’s jacket, tugging them down so not a single wrinkle puckered a single part of either sleeve. “Anyone in all of the kingdom would be grateful for a chance to dance with you.”
“Are fairies known for their flattery?”
“We’re more known for our pranks, but…” The fairy shook his head. His eyes snapped open suddenly, wild now with anxiety, as if he’d only just realized how late it was getting. “Are you trying to get me sidetracked just so I can’t grant your wish or something?”
“No, no!” Norman protested. Though the argument sounded far more pathetic than he’d intended for it to be. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“Alright.” Ray looked him up and down once more, then let out a deep sigh as he turned away from him. “Now, as for your carriage…”
Ray prowled through the yard like a cat stalking a mouse, eyeing every last inanimate object as if it could sprout legs and run from him at any moment. Norman was reluctant to believe that they wouldn’t, given how odd this entire night was. But the strangest thing of all wasn’t the fairy’s sudden appearance or even the magic that had swirled around him just moments before. It was Ray’s determination - how set his mind was on getting him to the ball, even though they’d only just met. Or had they? Norman couldn’t understand why or how, since he was certain he’d remember meeting a boy with a jewel encrusted cloak and pointed ears, but there was something so familiar about Ray. In the way that he spoke, in the way that he joked, in the way that he made him smile.
Or Norman had been alone for so long that he was simply remembering what it felt like to be cared about.
“Wow.” Ray mumbled after a while, looking at the mass of molding wood and rusted nails in front of him. “This shed looks like it’s been through hell and back.”
“No matter how many times I’ve tried to fix it, a storm always comes along and destroys it.” Norman chuckled, making his way to the fairy’s side, shifting a loose board with his toe. “I had to move all of the gardening tools to a shelf in the barn, since it got so bad.”
“I’d say it’s deserving of a second chance, wouldn’t you?”
Norman nodded. “Absolutely.”
And that’s exactly what Ray gave it.
The fairy’s magic worked within the blink of an eye, transforming every last splinter of oak into fine white birch, the elegant walls of a masterpiece of transportation. Norman stood in awe as he examined every last detail of it. The edges lined with gold trimming, the dark outlines of flowers that filled every inch of the wood. Even the inside was gorgeous - with its seats upholstered with crushed red velvet and warm oil lamps. With another flick of his wand, Ray had transformed some little critters he’d found scampering about in the dark into two silver horses, the moonlight glinting off of their coats in a way that reminded Norman of what he’d always imagined pixie dust to be like - magical and ethereal. He felt his breath hitch in his throat once he finally found the words he wished to say.
Only for them to come out as a sob instead of anything at all - one that caught both him and Ray by surprise.
“Hey, hey.” The fairy found his way back to the boy’s side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry!” Norman wiped his tears away with his hand, far too concerned about damaging his suit to even think about using his sleeve. “I don’t even know why I’m crying! It’s just all so…”
“Beautiful?” Ray suggested and the boy nodded in response. He guessed he wasn’t quite used to being pampered yet - a fact that the fairy seemed more than willing to change. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but there’s still one more thing I have left to do.”
Norman looked down as he felt something encase itself around his feet. Something cool and hard, a lot like… “Glass slippers?”
“Oh, no. Those shoes are made out of something far more durable.” When the boy failed to understand his hint, the fairy sighed and shook his head, revealing the shoes true nature. “Diamonds, Norman. You’re walking in diamonds.”
The boy lifted up his hands immediately, stepping out of Ray’s grasp as he started to bend down to take them off. “There’s no way I could possibly-”
“Accept them?” The fairy asked, grabbing Norman’s wrist before his hand could get anywhere near his shoes. “Well, unless you want to walk barefoot into the princess’s royal ball, I suggest you think twice about those words.”
The white-haired boy ran out of ways to argue once more with Ray the moment he looked into his one visible eye. Where the determination had once been, burning brighter than any of the flames of his carriage’s lanterns, now sat a different emotion. Something between a mix of kindness and melancholy, as if the fairy were silently pleaing with Norman to simply accept all of these extravagant gifts. The boy couldn’t even figure out why he was stalling so much. Why he couldn’t just keep his mouth shut and accept everything like he was so used to doing. But he guessed it must’ve been different when someone was trying to save him. When he knew that, deep down, this would cause more problems than it was worth.
Especially if his family caught him at the ball.
“One last question before you send me off or whatever it is fairy’s do to say goodbye.” Norman bit his lip nervously - a habit that he’d done so often, he could feel the ridge where his teeth always met the skin of its inside. “You’re sure my family won’t recognize me?”
“That is a part of the magic, yes.” Ray placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze as he spoke his next words. “Relax, Norman, you’re gonna be fine.” When not a single muscle in his body tensed, the fairy’s eyes grew softer - voice dropping to such a gentle whisper, Norman wondered if he’d even spoken the words at all. “I promise that, if anybody laughs at you, I will personally hunt them down after the ball and make them pay.”
Norman normally would’ve chuckled at such a declaration, but his brows furrowed at something far more concerning. “You’re not coming with?”
“Don’t worry.” Ray’s hand was moving up and down the boy’s arm now, and he wondered briefly if he was casting some sort of calming spell on him. “I’ll be outside in the courtyard, should anything go wrong.”
“Okay.” Norman said, taking a few steps towards his carriage before remembering something else he needed to ask. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“You have until midnight before my magic wears off.” Ray warned, gesturing both towards his clothes and his ride. “To woo the princess or simply enjoy the party, the choice is yours.”
Norman nodded one last time before climbing into the carriage. He didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast. Why the sound was pounding so loudly in his ears, drowning out all of the sounds of the night that the boy so enjoyed. The chorus of crickets and hooting of owls. The scampering of raccoons and the distant sounds of laughter from his neighbor’s open window. He tried to will his mind to calm down, to take in a few deep breaths and expel every last ounce of anxiety from his body. But no matter what he tried, no matter what he tried to focus on, the boy simply couldn’t calm himself down. He considered, briefly, asking Ray for something to ease his nerves. Surely fairies were capable of that, weren’t they?
Norman might’ve, too - had his mind not been wiped clean of thoughts at the sight of boy looking at him through the opening of the carriage, watching him intently.
“Thank you so much, Ray.” He settled on saying instead, figuring the fairy had given him far too much already.
“I’m just doing my job.” Ray said with a wave of his hand, like he did this every single night. He might’ve, for all Norman knew. “But you can thank me by giving me a smile before you go, yeah? Nobody likes a pessimist ruining their party.”
Norman flashed him a reassuring smile, the same one he’d given his step-brothers and father to get himself out of trouble. To fake them out into believing he was okay. “Like this?”
Ray frowned at the sight of it, muttering something incomprehensible to himself, the only bit of which Norman was able to catch being, “Something’s wrong.”
The white-haired boy could only stare at him, wide-eyed and blinking. “What do you mean?”
Before Norman could get an answer to his question, Ray leaned in and pressed a kiss on each of his cheeks, catching the boy completely off guard.
He’d never once been kissed. Not on the lips, not on the forehead, and certainly never on the cheeks. Not even his mother, when she was alive, had kissed him. She’d never been a very affectionate person - only giving Norman hugs when he desperately needed them, opting instead to let blankets and pillows be his comfort. The boy found it nice, above all of the awkwardness and fear he might’ve felt, to feel the fairy’s lips brush against his cheeks. They were soft and gentle, reminding him of rose petals coated with a light misting of dew, leaving his cheeks stained with a crimson flush that Norman knew wouldn’t be fading anytime soon. Everything about this boy, this fairy, from the tips of his pointed ears down the hem of his cloak, was unlike anyone he’d ever met.
He almost considered ditching the ball altogether, though he figured he might as well show off Ray’s hard work to the world.
“There.” The fairy said after he was finished, and Norman realized then that it was a spell. An enchantment of sorts that eased all of the tension out of his cheeks, making it far easier for them to move. “No better way to wipe the sadness out of a smile than the kisses of a fairy.” Ray hopped down from the carriage’s steps, waving to Norman as it pulled away. “I’ll see you later, alright?”
And with that, the boy was off to make his dream come true - even if something inside him told him that he was making a mistake.
*
Being the center of attention wasn’t something Norman had ever had the luxury of being before.
Not that he’d ever dreamt of it in the first place. No, the boy preferred keeping his head tucked down low and hiding on the sidelines to having every pair of eyes in a room trained on his every movement. It creeped him out, more than anything, now that he had the chance to experience it. But he supposed that was the point of Ray’s magic. To give him a charm so strong, not even the princess would be able to resist at least a peek at his sudden transformation. He descended the staircase that led to the dance floor as quickly as he could, staying far towards the right side of it. If anyone became so nosy as to stop him here, Norman knew he’d fall down the stairs and land smack on his face, forever marking him yet another fool among the royals.
But, much to his surprise, nobody did.
Even as he made his way through the crowd, nobody stopped him to strike up a conversation or flirt with him. Nobody pulled him into their clique and introduced them to their friends. No, it seemed all that everyone at the party wanted to do was stare at him. Had Ray somehow accidentally put a charm on Norman that made him seem too intimidating to approach? Or had he simply always had this air about him, this sense of regality, but it’d just been buried too far underneath the layers of sweat and dirt for anyone to notice? Norman shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about himself. Not when he felt so suffocated by the people around him and needed somewhere quiet to get himself resituated.
To psych himself up to look for the princess.
Surprisingly, the buffet table was just the place for that. He was surprised at the lack of people milling about it, for the selection of treats that sat atop it looked so delectable, that just their appearance was enough to make Norman’s mouth water. From mini cherry tarts to an endless variety of breads and rolls, he figured he could spend all night here if he wished. It’d been so long since the boy had eaten a proper meal. So long since he’d been able to sink his teeth into something and not have it be stale - nearly shattering his teeth with every bite. He figured there wouldn’t be any harm in taking just a taste. A tiny sampling of what the royals were eating, of what he was missing out on.
He settled on a cupcake before turning back towards the crowd and that’s when he noticed.
Emma was staring at him.
Norman thought he’d just imagined it - that her eyes had caught someone else’s in the crowd, that they were really fixed on a point somewhere next to him that only made it look like she was staring. But then she offered him a smile and a wave, both such small acts of kindness that they could’ve been meant for anyone in the room. When he offered both of them back to her, however, he realized it was him who she meant to catch the attention of. Not anyone who stood beside him - more guests seemed to notice just how delicious the treats looked in the time it took Norman to get a cupcake - was looking at her. Not a single person even knew she was staring in their direction, instead gossiping amongst themselves about who they thought the princess to stay by her side forever. The thought of it being him made his mouth go dry.
And, suddenly, all that Norman wanted was to disappear.
He buried his hands in his pockets, an attempt to conceal their shaking. It probably made him look standoffish, like a snooty prince who felt a gathering filled with so many commoners was beneath him, but he wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t think, with his first conversation with the princess rapidly approaching. He watched as she smiled and excused herself through the sea of guests, careful to pull the hem of her billowing, white gown up off the floor as she glided across it. Norman didn’t know if there could ever be a single other girl in this world filled with as much pure sunshine, as much raw joy, as she was. Let alone, a girl who was so intent on spreading her happiness throughout the kingdom.
He really didn’t deserve to marry her, even if he was the one she chose.
“Hello!” Emma practically sang once she found her way to stand in front of Norman, out of breath from her journey across the ballroom. “I haven’t seen you at any of these parties, so I just had to come over and introduce myself!”
Norman chuckled, bowing at the princess’ greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”
“You too!” The girl laughed and the boy couldn’t help but smile at the sound, so jovial and full of light. “Why the sudden change of heart this evening, though?” She pondered the question herself for a second, coming up with her own answer before she could give Norman time to provide his own. “Is it because you’re looking for a bride, perhaps? Maybe a groom?”
“Oh goodness, me?” He chuckled awkwardly. He knew, of course, that the majority of boys his age were already courting their partners but not once had the idea ever crossed his mind - there was simply no one who would ever love him that way. “No, no.” He swirled the last remaining dregs of juice around in his glass. “I just… wanted to see what one of your infamous balls was like with my own eyes, that’s all.”
“Well, I hope this one doesn’t disappoint you.” She tried to keep up her grin, but it slowly fell as a thought seemed to creep into her mind. “Though…”
“Your majesty?” Norman asked, his free hand hovering around her shoulder as if he thought she might fall. “Is something the matter?”
“Kind of.” She admitted, turning back towards the crowd, pointing at someone Norman couldn’t yet see. “You see that girl over there?” The boy scanned the faces of the guests - there were a lot of girls at this party, which came as no surprise to him - but he still couldn’t figure out who she was talking about. “The one with the green hair and glasses?”
His eyes finally settled on the girl in question - who was currently standing by the king and queen, looking a bit like she wanted to die, from her frantic movements and endless fretting about. “Yeah?”
“Well, you see…” The princess’ cheeks suddenly filled with pink - a sight that made Norman feel more comfortable around her than before, like she was putting some trust in him she didn’t give anyone else. “Everyone in the kingdom thinks I threw this ball so I could find my fiance. But really, I threw it so I could muster up the courage to finally propose to her.”
Norman’s eyes widened incredulously. “Seriously?!”
“Aw, man, did I do too much again? ” Emma smacked herself in the face, groaning as if this was a mistake she’d made countless times before.“Gilda always scolds me for my extravagance but I can’t help it, you know? I just wanted to make this night special and-”
“Not at all, your majesty.” Norman reassured her. “She’s going to be absolutely thrilled when she finds out, I think.” That’s when he noticed the sudden flash of green out of the corner of his eye, the glinting of light off of glass.“But I’d keep your voice down a bit, if I were you.”
“Oh, Gilda!” Emma jumped at the sudden appearance of her lady in waiting beside her. “Is everything alright?”
“My lady.” The girl curtsied and Norman watched the way that Emma looked at her - that sparkle in her eyes he’d once so longed to be the cause of making her irises glitter brighter than emeralds. “I apologize for intruding, but it’s just… the King… he asked me to come and get you.”
“Oh.” There her smile went, falling again. Norman wished he could ask her what was wrong, but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Not when she’d worked this hard to keep it a secret. “Well, I hate to cut our conversation short, but duty calls.”
“As it always does.” Norman bowed once more. “Goodnight, your majesty. Thanks for hosting such a wonderful party.”
“You’re very welcome.” Emma turned to Gilda, offering her arm for her lady in waiting to take. “Now, shall we?”
Norman watched as the two of them walked away, arm in arm, wondering where the longing in his chest had gone. He felt no jealousy, no ill-will towards the girl who was to become Emma’s bride. In fact, he felt an odd sense of relief at the knowledge that the princess hadn’t picked him. Watching her and Gilda talk to the King and Queen, at the way Emma poked her lady in waiting in the side and laughed, Norman wished that he’d asked Ray to come with him to this ball. He didn’t know why - didn’t understand what it was about the fairy that had so captivated him, but there was no mistaking it. He wanted to grow closer to Ray. He wanted to be able to make him laugh the way Emma did Gilda, wanted to make his eyes sparkle in the way he’d once hers. A sudden thought popped into Norman’s mind, unwarranted. One that he’d had an inkling of earlier, but had been too scared to admit it to himself.
Maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been in love with the princess at all.
There was so much pressure around marriage, when you lived in a village like his. The boys were expected to already have settled on who it was they wanted to marry - boy, girl, or otherwise - and would already be busy making preparations for weddings and proposals as Norman stood at the edge of the ballroom, completely and utterly alone. Maybe Emma had been his way of stalling. Of ignoring the fact that he longed to have someone who treated him the way Ray did, who made him feel special. Even if it was just his job, even if he was reading too far into things, Norman couldn’t help but feel like there’d been something there. A spark that could ignite into something much more, a blazing fire that he didn’t know he was prepared to get burned in.
But it was better he tried than stayed here, wasn’t it?
Norman looked out the wide, open windows - or doors, actually, now that he saw their handles and the way they were slightly cracked open - at the courtyard that lay beyond. The moon was still high in the night sky, the brightest light in a sea of twinkling stars, casting a bluish glow on every plant the royal gardens held. Ray would be out there by now. He’d be waiting to see how the night went, to either congratulate Norman on his success or apologize for his failure. He wouldn’t be expecting the words the boy wanted to say so badly. Words that seemed so innocent in his mind, he was almost ashamed for thinking them. The fairy was of another world, a creature so far out of the mortal’s reach that he knew he didn’t have a shot.
And yet…
Before he could second guess himself, he dashed out of the ballroom and into the night - not before he whispered a small blessing of Emma’s engagement, wishing with all of his heart that Gilda would accept.
*
If you’d told Ray last week that he’d finally muster up the courage to help the mortal boy he’d fallen in hopelessly in love with this Friday night, he would’ve laughed in your face.
He’d done such a good job of staying away before tonight. Such a good job at restraining himself from rushing to the boy’s side, from wiping his tears away and promising him that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. That he was the light at the end of that tunnel, as absurd as he knew Norman would assume it to be. But sometimes, as a wise woman once told him, there are people so broken, so completely and utterly hopeless, that refusing to help them would be a crime. He knew his mother’s words were meant for those fairies like him normally looked over. The ones who he was certain he didn’t save, who crawled into darkened closets and rotted logs, all because he was so preoccupied with the well-being of his crush.
Isabella would’ve never told him, had she known what her words would’ve inspired him to do.
It wasn’t as if Ray had done nothing to help Norman in the past. He had - even if it was something as little as conjuring an extra egg up in the chicken coop so that he’d have breakfast, or something as big as wrecking the wheel on his father’s carriage so he’d have a few days away from his wrath. Most little miracles like that were the works of fairies. But what his kind was infamous for, what magic had caught the attention of curious authors and artists all over the world, were the miracles that couldn’t be explained. Someone’s mother miraculously recovering from sickness, a storm’s sudden ending just before the river rose up high enough to flood. Those, Ray knew, were far riskier and required something of them that he didn’t know he could promise.
That any human a fairy came into contact with they were forbidden to form a relationship with - romantic or otherwise.
That was the fear that held him back from saving Norman all these years. The one law of the fae that kept him confined to the shadows, to helping the boy from afar. He never thought he would fall for him this hard. He never thought he’d be foolish enough to - with the amount of times he’d seen what happened to fairies who were , their screams echoing again in his ears now as if to remind him of what his future held. He’d formed too much of a bond with Norman already. He’d even told him his name , a fact that no other mortal on this planet knew before today. Soon enough, he’d lose his magic. Soon enough, his wings would be cut from his back with a knife, molten red from the fire it’d be dipped in. Soon enough, his back would be scarred from the place that they used to be.
And Ray knew for a fact that Norman didn’t feel the same about him.
Emma had always been the sparkle in his eye, the one star out of his reach. The very reason that he’d needed the help of a fairy like him in the first place. If it hadn’t been for tonight, for his desperation to meet her even once, then there wouldn’t have been a reason for Ray to have stepped out of the shadows in the first place. In a way, he should’ve been thankful for the princess. But all that he felt when he thought about her, about Norman holding her hand and whispering jokes into her ear, was jealousy. No matter how many times he dreamt it, how many times he wished for it, the fairy’s one dream would never come true. He supposed that was the downside to your entire existence being devoted to helping people. That, not once, were you allowed to be selfish. Not once, could you make your own happiness a reality.
Though, even if Ray could, he wouldn’t want to.
For there would be no curse more painful, no wound more fatal, than knowing the reason Norman loved him was because of a spell, not because of his heart.
“Ray!” He heard a voice shout from behind him, breaking him out of his daze. “There you are!”
“Norman!” The fairy practically jumped back in surprise. He’d barely been at the ball an hour, and he was already finished? “What are you doing out here so early?”
Norman giggled, cheeks flushed - from running all this way or something else, Ray didn’t know which. “I came to find you!”
“Why?” His brows furrowed in concern. Something seemed very off about this. “Did something go wrong?” His fists clenched at what he’d told him earlier, at the threat he’d made to calm his nerves. “Did someone hurt you? Because I swear I-”
“Nope!” He giggled even more, confusing the fairy even further. Just what exactly had happened at the ball? “Someone actually helped me a lot, to realize something I couldn’t before.”
“Oh?” He raised a single brow, curiosity totally peaked. “And what’s that?”
Norman took a step closer to Ray. Without giving him time to react, he grabbed one of his hands and held it in his own, rubbing the back of his hand gently with his thumb. The fairy didn’t know what to make of it. Was this his way of thanking him for setting him up with Emma? Was it some sort of signal that everything had gone horribly wrong, a human custom that he wasn’t aware of? Or… No, Ray thought to himself. It couldn’t be. He didn’t even give himself the chance to dwell on that idea, to dredge up even the slightest bit of hope from his broken heart. This night was Norman’s night to fall in love with the princess. To be whisked off into his happily ever after as the prince by her side, the one who’d vow to protect her in sickness and in health, until death did them part. But then why wasn’t he still inside, trying to win her over?
And why did he seem to be getting closer, with every second that ticked past?
Norman brushed a lock of black hair from the boy’s cheek, fingertips lingering behind his ear. “I finally know what love is, thanks to you.”
And that’s when Norman kissed him.
Ray didn’t know what he should do at first. If he should pull away and spit in the boy’s face or if he should let himself enjoy this moment, savoring the faint mint scent of his cologne. If he should run away from this courtyard and never look back or pull Norman closer, in a feeble attempt to express what his words would fail to say. That even if he had to give up his magic, he’d always be there to protect him. That even if he couldn’t promise him a happily ever after, he’d still find a way to make his life happier than the one he currently led. He supposed it was better that he’d waited this long to aid his crush. To wait long enough to reach the age where they could be wed, where he could get a job and support him like he deserved.
But the moment they pulled apart, his mind snapped back to reality - even if all he wanted was to kiss him forever.
Norman took a step back and held out his hand for Ray. “Care for a dance?”
Anyone in all of the kingdom would be grateful for a chance to dance with you.
Norman knew. When he figured it out or how was a mystery to Ray. But somehow, in the time that the carriage had dropped him off at the palace to now, he’d realized why the fairy was so insistent. Why he refused to let him think a single bad thought about himself, why he tried to reassure him so much that he deserved it. Why he seemed to know just how long he’d suffered under the cruelty of his step-father, under the silence of his step-brothers. He knew that he loved him, and he felt the same. It felt surreal, even thinking it in his head, that this could be happening right now. That Norman’s eyes were sparkling brighter than they ever had before, all because of him. All because he’d shown him what someone loving you was truly like, over the span of a single night. The fairy didn’t know if this would last forever.
But, for once, he believed his dream might come true.
“I’d be honored.” Ray bowed before taking it in his own, letting Norman lead him in a waltz to the distant music from the ballroom.
He never imagined this night would end like this. With him in Norman’s arms instead of the princess, dancing together at the last waltz of the evening. Even if it was outside, away from everyone else, Ray didn’t care. All that mattered to the fairy was that Norman had picked him. For what reason, the fairy knew not. He could’ve been mooching off of his magic for all Ray was concerned, but he knew the boy wasn’t cruel enough to do such a thing. The tenderness of his touch as he led the fairy in their dance, the gentleness with which he smiled at him, and the laughter that bubbled up from his lips whenever either of them took one wrong step were too genuine to be fake. No, as much as Ray might’ve been fighting against it, he’d somehow made Norman fall in love with him.
Something that seemed even more surreal to him than the very magic he possessed.
“You know, you would’ve made a pretty good prince.” Ray mumbled into Norman’s neck, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to hear the exact words that came out of his mouth. “But…”
The white-haired boy tilted the fairy’s chin up towards him, so that they were looking each other in the eyes. Ray noticed, not for the first time, just what a beautiful shade of blue Norman’s eyes were - like forget-me-nots blooming in the spring, like the sky on a clear summer’s day. “But what?”
“I’m glad you’re here with me instead.” Ray whispered, wrapping his arms ever tighter around the boy’s waist.
“Me too.” Norman grinned, pulling the fairy in for yet another kiss.
And in that moment, losing his wings seemed like the smallest price in the world to pay for such a happily ever after.