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Chapter 1: I love you, and nobody else
In which the smarmy blonde idiot has impeccably bad timing, as usual.
It had been a busy night in the way of emotions. Marianne was fairly sure she had experienced the full gamut, from rage to fear, fear to determination, determination to kinship, kinship to…love? Then betrayal, rage (Again. Thanks Roland, dear) heartbreak, and an overwhelming sense of relief when she saw Bog limping his way back up.
Marianne cringed. Wait. Did she really just think the dreaded ‘L’ word? Could she possibly be..? She looked up at Bog, who was now being pulled towards her by his mother. When his expression softened from annoyance and was replaced by a goofy grin at the sight of her Marianne’s heart gave a happy little squeeze and she knew. Ready or not, she was in love again.
Before that realization had time to sink in Roland was between them in an instant. When the scent of primrose enveloped her she knew he had succeeded in dusting her with the love potion. She coughed and swiped uselessly at the air, as if that would prevent the toxic stuff from doing its evil work.
A moment passed without her getting the urge to open her eyes and start singing her heart out, and then she realized: She was in love with Bog. It wouldn’t work. The blond bastard had been too late to bespell her the minute her sword clashed with Bog’s staff. A wicked smile spread over her face as she thought up a plan. She would sing, give Roland the best dewy-eyed expression she could muster, then punch him right in his precious little face.
Just as she started to sing “Sugar pie, honeybunch!” There was a yell and a loud thump, then as she opened her eyes she found she was staring into Bog’s eyes and not Rolands, who was pinned to the ground by Bog’s staff.
“…you know that I love you…” Marianne trailed off weakly as she gazed into Bog’s bewildered eyes. She felt her face flood with heat. She had just accidentally confessed her love to Bog in quite possibly the very worst way.
Roland recovered from his coughing fit and knocked aside Bog’s staff in his moment of distraction, stumbling back up. Only when Roland opened his eyes and staggered towards her did she notice the distinct pink sparkle on his face that meant the idiot had dusted himself on the way down. Oh good goddess no. This was going to be bad.
“Lovin’ you! Is easy cuz,” He slid towards her, taking her elbow in his hand with a smirk, “You’re beautiful!”
Marianne buried her head in her hands. Why? What did she ever do to deserve this? She yanked her elbow away from him and shoved it in his face, making her way back towards Bog.
“I, uh – that was - ” She looked down, unsure what to say. On impulse, she took his hand, wanting to feel that he was real after almost losing him, “I’m glad you’re ok…” She blushed and looked away. Best to change subject as quickly as possible. Maybe if she just pretended hard enough the embarrassing love declaration incident would disappear into the ether.
“Lovin’ you is more than just a dream come true!” Roland had recovered and was now crooning in her ear. Marianne’s fists clenched and unclenched.
“I need my sword. Where’s my sword.” She whipped her head around and then remembered she had dropped it in her flight to get away from Bog’s crumbling fortress, “Can I borrow your staff?” Marianne asked Bog, who nodded mutely before handing it to her.
“I’ll be just a second.” She smiled sweetly at Bog before turning to Roland and bashing him over the head, “Get. Away. From. Me. You. Creep!” She said, punctuating each word with a downward swipe of the staff.
Roland fell to the ground, almost unconscious but still singing in a slight whine, “And everything that I dooooo, is out of lovin’ youuuuuu,” The adoring look he was giving her was making her sick, but she stayed her hand. Despite everything he had done, fighting an unarmed person who was unwilling to fight back was wrong. Although she was certainly tempted to beat him to a bloody pulp. At least he was staying on the ground this time.
She handed the staff back to Bog, “Thanks. I don’t know how we’re going to fix him. Roland’s never loved anything but his own damn hair. Maybe get a mirror…” She snorted with laughter at the thought of Roland trying to make out with a mirror.
Bog was being suspiciously quiet, and Marianne was about to enquire when her father flew in on that chair of his. Marianne reminded herself to see about getting someone to whip her father back into shape. Honestly, he couldn’t even fly. What would he do if he were ever in danger and needed to flee quickly?
“Marianne! Dawn! You’re all right!” He exclaimed as he made his way over to them, seemingly oblivious to Bog’s presence. Or ignoring it purposefully.
“Yes, thanks to Bog.” Marianne said pointedly, “He saved us from being buried alive.”
“Did he now? Well then I owe him a debt of gratitude,” Her father bowed stiffly to Bog, clearly not relishing that the gesture was required for good manners.
“It was no problem, of course. If you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to – ah – rebuilding to plan and all.” And with a nervous look to Marianne he flew off. Marianne moved to follow him, but her father drew her into a hug.
What was that all about? Marianne sighed. She probably scared Bog off with her accidental confession of love. Or did he think…? He couldn’t think that the love potion had worked on her, could he?
Marianne cursed inwardly. Of course he would think that. After the experience he’d had with love so far it was very unlikely he would make any sort of positive conclusion involving the subject.
Dawn joined the hug, interrupting her thoughts.
“Daddy!” She squealed, “I’ve got great news!”
“What is it dear?” He asked as they all pulled away.
“I’ve finally settled on one guy, just like you’ve always wanted.”
“Good, good! Who is the lucky young fellow? A knight, perhaps…?”
Dawn ran back and grabbed Sunny’s hand, dragging him over, “The opposite of night - Sunny!” Marainne groaned. A pun was hardly the best way for Dawn to introduce her new relationship to father.
“…An Elf?” Her father looked from Sunny to Dawn and back to Sunny again before falling back, unconscious.
“I don’t think he took that very well.” Sunny said forlornly, looking at the king’s prone form with concern.
“Oh don’t worry silly, once he gets to know you he’ll love you. Just like I do.” Dawn smiled at Sunny and when she started to give him eskimo kisses Marianne turned away before her gag reflex kicked in.
Admitting to herself that she loved Bog still didn’t warm her to the idea of gooshy romance any more than she had been before.
Bog. She remembered with a jolt. She had to go after him, explain herself.
“Dawn, make sure he,” Marianne gestured to Roland, “Is put somewhere safe. Somewhere with a lock.” Not for the first time Marianne lamented the complete lack of dungeons in their palace. Yet another reason it was unfortunate Bog’s fortress had been levelled, “I’ll – um – I’ll just be back later, ok? I’ve got to take care of some things.”
Dawn gave her a knowing smile, “Things, huh?”
“And stuff!” Marianne said defensively.
“Yes?”
“Not you, Stuff.” Marianne turned, “Wait, on second thought, did you see which direction Bog flew off in?”
“That way.” Stuff pointed sulkily, “Looks like we’ll be off after him on foot like always.”
“I enjoy a good walk, though.” Thang said cheerily as they tottered off in that general direction.
“Ok, Dawn?”
“Yeah, yeah, lock up the lovesick idiot, we got ya Marianne.” Sunny piped in.
“Go get your man!” Dawn said. Marianne blushed and flew off as fast as she could, leaving the cheers of the crowd behind her.
She had a sinking suspicion that if the crowd had been made up of more fairies than elves there might have been a slightly less enthusiastic response to Bog and her…being together? Whatever it was that happened next, anyway. Especially considering her father’s reaction to Dawn and Sunny. Marianne was positive that her father would be throwing fits for weeks about Sunny and for months (if not years) about Bog. Her face puckered as she imagined all the arguments that were sure to come. Her father had never been very understanding with Marianne after the Roland incident. He seemed to be waiting for her to change back to ‘herself’. She loved her father, but his abject refusal to accept her for who she was now was really getting to her. It was part of the reason she had found Bog’s acceptance, no, approval of her personality so refreshing.
Marianne was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice she had been flying more upwards than forwards, and had very nearly cleared the tree tops. She quickly ducked back down, not keen on the idea of being the next snack of some hungry bird. The early bird gets the worm, fairy, goblin…whatever, they weren’t picky. Best not to tempt fate.
As she glided back downwards she noticed the bent trunk where she had landed with Bog not too long ago, that fateful spot they had almost shared their first kiss. At least, that’s where she thought it was heading. She couldn’t be sure because it was difficult to read Bog. With Roland, who made a big show of everything, it was easy to see anything coming. Except his ultimate betrayal, of course. But then, she had been pretty naïve a year ago.
As she got closer she saw Bog’s now familiar shape bent in a sitting position as he surveyed his ruined fortress, looking to be lost in thought. She landed next to him, and quietly sat down but he didn’t look up.
“Please don’t sing – not you. I couldn’t bear – “ He said softly, his eyes never leaving the ground below.
“Bog, the potion didn’t work. I’m still me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It didn’t work – um – because I – well, you know – ah - I – already, you know?” Marianne finished. Seriously? That was the best she could do? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just say what she felt?
“It’s not possible. It was just one night. You couldn’t – no one could – Not for me. Not in one night.” He put his head in his hands, “Someone like me doesn’t get love at first sight. It’d take a much longer time, I suspect, and possibly blindness on the ‘lucky’ lady’s part.” The way he spat ‘lucky’ made Marianne’s heart squeeze in pain. Did he really think so lowly of himself?
“Come on, Bog. Do I look like I’m bespelled? I’m not singing. I’m not swooning. I’m not making googly eyes at you and calling you Boggy Woggy,” Mariane trailed off as she saw it was clear he wasn’t listening, “…kingy wingy….”
Bog turned towards her and set his hand on her shoulder, the rough warm rasp of it on her bare skin making her want to lean into him and just tell him everything she felt in the most eloquent way possible. In a way that would make him believe her. But words were not her strong suite.
“Marianne, I hope you can meet someone who will break your spell. You deserve everything. Only the best things. That’s not – that’s not me.” Bog got up, and flew away at a speed she didn’t know he was capable of. She tried to follow him, but he ducked into some brambles. Where he knew, he knew she couldn’t follow.
“AUUUUGHHH!!!!” Marianne cried out, “I AM SO STUPID! Why couldn’t I just SAY it?” She punched the nearest bramble branch and immediately regretted the decision as a thorn sliced into her finger. She stuck her knuckle into her mouth and sucked it dejectedly. Ok, so words weren’t her forte. Maybe a little action instead? She spotted a thick, sturdy looking stick stuck in the brambles and tugged at it until it came free. Not quite a sword, but it would do the trick.
“Bog you thickheaded doofus! You had better come out of there or I’m coming in, and when I tear up my wings because of you you’re going to feel really terrible!” Marianne crossed her arms impatiently. He had to come out. He wouldn’t let her maim herself. Would he?
Her moment of doubt was shattered when Bog came bursting out of the brambles, his hands outstretched, “No – Don’t’! I’m not worth – “
Marianne raised her stick and brandished it at Bog.
“I’m comin’ straight on for you!” She lunged forward and Bog huffed in surprise as he put up his staff to block the blow.
“Marianne what are you doing?”
“Better concentrate. I have it on good authority that sticks have a reputation of putting out eyes.” Marianne grinned and lunged forward again. Bog had no choice but to block each blow, though he had yet to give one of his own.
“You made up my mind! I’m feeling stronger, now I’m coming through! Straight on, straight on for you!”
“Marianne – stop – I’m not going to fight you in your current state, I – ow! Hey! That was a cheat move!” He yelled in dismay as one of her blows hit. Marianne gave him an innocent look.
“Who me? I don’t cheat. Maybe you’re just not fast enough.” She playfully mocked, and she knew she had broken through when a grin spread across his face and he finally started to engage her.
“Quite some time, I been sittin' it out. Didn't take no chances, I was a pris'ner of doubt.” But not anymore, Her confident smile said, because of you.
In no time they were fighting in earnest, and the minute Bog’s started to show off she knew he finally understood.
That connection we felt the first time we fought, you still feel it. You can’t deny it. This isn’t some stupid love potion. She didn’t have to say.
He answered with another blow, and a cocky grin I felt that connection the minute you decked me, tough girl.
Suddenly the stick snapped and Bog stumbled forward into her, both of them falling back to the ground.
“Ah – Sorry! Are you ok?” Bog jumped off of her and Marianne blushed furiously as she brushed herself off.
“Fine, totally fine.”
“No, your hand – “ He grabbed it, “It’s bleeding!” He examined it with concern.
“Oh, that. No, that was all me, taking out my frustration on the bramble bush. Not the most rational decision on my part.” She looked up and the despairing look in Bog’s eyes told her he blamed himself for that too.
“Stop that.”
“Stop – what?”
“You can’t hold yourself responsible for my temper. Even if you did so very rudely fly off where I couldn’t go after you.”
“Sorry – ah – I mean, I’ll try not to do that again.”
Awkward silence reigned supreme as they both desperately grasped for words.
“I – um – the potion really didn’t work. You get that now, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Soooo….” Marianne scuffed her foot on the ground.
“So.” Bog fiddled with his hands.
“I love you!” They both said in a rush, then gaped at each other for a moment before bursting into riotous laughter.
“What is wrong with us?” Marianne gasped between laughs. “Dawn would be horrified if she found out that that was how we declared our true love for each other.”
“If I remember correctly, you first declaration was in song. Sugar pie.” Bog waggled his eyebrows at her as his voice rose to a teasingly mocking tone.
“No! We’re officially pretending that didn’t happen.”
“Oh aye? Will you be making that a royal decree?”
“Effective immediately.” Marianne pursed her lips and attempted a serious look, “With a severe penalty for those who don’t follow it.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Yes. I plan on being a very hard queen. Rule with the iron fist of fear, and all.” Marianne sniggered, unable to keep up the act.
“I’m trembling.”
“You should be. If only I had my sword…”
They joked like that for a while, both unwilling to return to the reality that involved Bog seeing to rebuilding and Marianne going back to sort out the problem that Roland presented. As the sun was just disappearing over the horizon, Bog finally had to admit he had been keeping his subjects waiting long enough.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Marianne asked.
“Of course.”
They stood there uncomfortably for a bit, unsure. Then Marianne did what she had wanted to do the moment she saw Bog staggering out of the ravine. She threw herself at him and into a tight hug.
“Don’t you ever doubt my feelings for you. Never again. Promise.”
Bog stood there for a moment, agape, before wrapping his arms around her.
“I promise.” He whispered into her hair.