Chapter Text
Our story begins, as many fairytales do, in an enchanted land; this one called Shield. Now in this land lay a kingdom of modest wealth and noble beauty, with rolling hills, deep forests, and a castle whose towers touched the stars. Since this is a fairytale and all, the land was filled with all sorts of magical beings and things. Giants and elves, ogres and fairies, talking snakes and galloping unicorns. Of course there was also a king and queen, and a particular prince we will get to later.
Now, enough about the larger setting. Don’t worry we’ll come back to all that too. This story has many set changes. But for now, we shall start where our story begins. In this kingdom just described, there sat a quaint little village named Yonder, whose population was small but whose beauty was similar to that of a hidden gem. And in this village a baby girl had just been born and a fairy godmother sent to greet her.
Not every child gets a fairy godmother, but even the ones who do don’t always want one. For fairy godmothers are just like the rest of us: flawed. Some are good at their jobs others must have lied somewhere on their resumes or stopped caring long ago. Who could really blame them when gift giving is so difficult a job? The one in our story, a fairy by the name of Raina, falls under the category of fairy godmothers who believe themselves the greatest gift givers of all, when in reality their gifts are backhanded, hot rubbish, or cruel (we all know the type). Hence why, having found out this was the godmother her baby daughter had been sent, Anna Simmons and her household fairy Melinda May decided to hide the baby.
“She can’t give a gift if she can’t find the child,” Melinda said, gently placing little Jemma, our heroine, into a pile of blankets in the closet.
“Watch her find a way,” Anna said. She pushed her dark hair out of her face and leaned against the wall.
Outside there was a sound like firecrackers popping and happy laughter that heralded Raina’s arrival.
“Here she comes,” Melinda deadpanned, leaning protectively against the closet door. She had meant to fix the hinges, but hadn’t gotten to it yet; so the door swung open if not pressed against.
Raina entered the room with a little pop and a downpour of fairy dust as she shook out her wings.
*Quick narrator’s side note: I think it prudent to mention that fairies are actually the same variant of heights as humans. Some of the larger fairies are taller than the average man when they so wish to be. They can elect to shrink to the size of a butterfly if they wanted, but it is more often convenient to be human sized. Anyway, continue on with the story.
“Hello Melinda. Anna,” Raina said, already riffling about the room. She was known to nick a few things on occasion. “How’re you both doing today?”
“Just fine,” Anna said, quickly glancing at Melinda before flashing Raina a fake smile.
“Good to hear it. So,” Raina said, placing a little princess figurine back under the tree-like lamp on the dresser, “where’s the baby.”
Anna raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Baby? What baby?”
“Don’t be silly, the baby you’ve just had.”
“I didn’t have a baby?” Anna spluttered. It took everything for Melinda not to groan at the disastrous lying.
Raina gave a slight smirk. “Then what are all these diaper cloths for? And that bassinet?”
Anna froze, but Melinda covered the pause by walking forward and saying, “The baby hasn’t been born yet.”
The fairy godmother’s brows raised. “Then who’s that?” she asked, nodding at the bundle in the now open closet.
“I knew I should have fixed that door,” Melinda muttered as Raina glided over to pick up baby Jemma.
The moment she touched the baby, the little one burst into tears. She screamed and cried and tried to wiggle away. Perhaps she sensed danger. Perhaps if she hadn’t then this story wouldn’t have begun because the crying stared to grate on her godmother’s nerves.
“Well she is a fussy little one, aren’t you darling,” Raina said, trying to bounce and soothe the baby. The girl refused to be pacified and continued to cry that piercing cry of a newborn. “Hush now, I’m trying to think of your gift. I said hush.”
As little Jemma wailed, Anna and Melinda stood frozen where they stood. There was no taking the baby away from Raina without something worse happening, for she hated thinking her presence was unappreciated. Not everyone got fairy godmothers after all. One should be grateful if they got one.
Raina loosened the bundle of blankets and readjusted the way she was holding the baby, but on Jemma cried until, finally, a look of clarity fell across the fairy’s face.
“Ah, I’ve got it,” she gasped, holding her fingers above the baby’s little face. “Jemma of Yonder, I give you the gift of obedience.” And she snapped her fingers and rained down fairy dust.
Anna’s mouth fell open and Melinda clenched her jaw.
“There,” Raina beamed. “Now, stop crying.”
The baby’s mouth shut tight and the tears stopped flowing.
“Good. Now, go to sleep.”
The eyes fluttered close.
“Now, wake up.”
The eyes flew open.
Raina looked proudly at the two other women in the room. “See, isn’t it a wonderful gift.”
“It’s a horrible gift!” Melinda spat. “One should never have to do everything they’re told. Take it back!”
“Take it back?” Raina said, offended. “Oh no, Melinda dear, I don’t do take backs.”
“Well, you can start now.”
The fairy godmother tutted and put the baby into her bassinet. “I don’t think I will. Now, have a good day.”
And with a fluttering of wings, Raina was gone, leaving Anna and Melinda in complete and horrific shock.
As you are most likely aware, dear reader, it is not a gift to be forced to do everything one is told. As Jemma grew up, she found just how horrible it truly was. The simplest commands, even the ones that were simply idiomatic or not meant to be directly obeyed, Jemma responded to. Often it got her into more trouble than it helped her out of it. For instance, after stepping between a bully and a young girl named Daisy (remember her, she comes back in the story), the bully had said in that oh so charming bully voice “bite me.” Which, of course, Jemma promptly did.
Only her mother and Melinda knew of the curse that had been placed upon her, for they had refused to call it a gift. The less people that knew the better, for there was always the chance someone could take advantage of it. It was this reasoning that led Anna, having fallen gravely ill and lying on her deathbed, to make her daughter promise she wouldn’t tell anyone else. For if she was going to leave Jemma, she wanted her as safe as possible. It was this and her golden locket that Anna left her daughter with.
Here, ten years after Jemma made her promise, is where the rest of our story starts.