Chapter Text
"Oh, you poor boy. Victim of yet another human's villainy. Allow me to give you a gift," the Faerie queen sighs, observing John and Dirk as they kneel before her.
I'm not a victim, You want to say. Dirk isn't a villain, you try, but are unable to speak.
"I cannot break the binding he's placed on you, but I can promise you this: as long as you are bound to the human, he will not lie to you without consequence," her attention turns from you to Dirk, "I curse you, I curse you, I curse you, human. For your hubris, you will face death by a thousand cuts. Lie to your own kind, if you will. Lie to the vampires and the shapeshifters, lie to the Fae if you dare. But you will not lie to the boy you've bound. Every lie you tell him will be purchased in your own blood, and your skin will scar so he will always remember your treachery. And finally, when you've told him a thousand lies, you will die. All your wounds will reopen and you will bleed your hot iron blood before him, and he will be free. As long as he is bound to you by the curse you've placed on him, you will be cursed to bleed for your lies."
You can see Dirk's jaw working as he stares at the ground, but he says nothing.
"You are dismissed," the queen says, and there is no arguing with her tone.
Dirk nods and heads for the door. You stand, glaring at the queen while he retreats. How dare she- "Let's go, John," The great oak doors close behind you with a forceful slam, and the wind from them ruffles your hair as you follow Dirk out from Under the Hill.