Chapter Text
Day 1: Mustache
Chapter 1: Landon
Working at the Queen’s Court Café wasn’t all too bad, as far as part-time work goes.
Behind the counter could get hot with all the drinks and steam, and there was a never ending chaos between the counter and the drive through during peak hours, but the pay was good, the atmosphere was nice, and it was just busy enough to keep you hopping without overwhelming you.
Personally, I considered it an improvement over when the cafe was a bit sleepier. Business had really picked up since the local Night Queen had talked up the café. Rhonda was a good boss though, and the increase in customers had translated into an increase in pay. Rhonda was even thinking about getting more staff to help out.
And, though I wouldn’t admit it, I kinda understood the whole supernatural fascination of our mostly human clientele. I wasn’t a supie-groupie or anything, but it was still fun to see the different people in the town. Queen’s Court was still like, a 75% human customer establishment, but the 25% supernaturals that came into the bar? Added a new dimension of their own.
Werewolves and wizards hard started coming in the regular, knowing that we were a supernatural friendly bar. Now that we’d added tea and bloodpacks to the menu? A whole litany of fae and vampires started swinging by. Even had one girl who popped in occasionally for flavored milk, which wouldn’t be notable so much except heaven’s fae-ngel baby always seemed to arrive with her. Chloe or Carrie and Nottingham of the elves, or something like that.
That said, supernaturals definitely had a lock on the attractiveness scale. Which meant human males, like me, had to do a bit more to stand out.
“…You think this looks good on me, Rhonda?” I asked, looking at my reflection in one of the brighter chrome coffee pots we had at the bar.
“What looks good on you, Landon?” Rhonda asked, distracted as she pulled some espresso shots. Mr. Night King himself had popped in, as usual, to grab a variety of drinks for his Empress.
“My mustache!” I retorted, and Rhonda looked over at me.
“What mustache?” Rhonda asked, creasing her brows in confusion.
“This mustache!” I insisted, pointing to the majestic, manly bristles combed neatly over my upper lip.
“Oh, you mean that peach fuzz?” Rhonda quipped, turning to the side. With a grace that came only with experience, Rhonda expertly steamed and frothed up a pitcher of milk while grabbing the cups and syrups she would need, not a single movement wasted.
Meanwhile, I gasped, dramatically, leaning back against the counter as if wounded. “Peach fuzz?!”
The bell affixed to the café door tinkled as a group of more customers walked in. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted a handful more fae entering and red headed woman behind them.
They seemed to give the Night King a bit of extra room, reticent to stand directly behind him. Rigel, quiet and motionless as always, made no move to talk to them, simply holding his spot by the counter as he waited on his beverages.
Rigel was quiet but I never did understand why his own race seemed to be so afraid of him. It was rude, almost, how none of them ever seemed to do anything beyond bow their heads briefly and mutter basic greetings, if they managed to say anything at all. A few times I’d even seen fae turn around and leave the shop after spotting him.
Which yeah, I guess Rigel’s silent treatment could be a bit intimidating, but life is all about networking, isn’t it?
Speaking of which…
“Hey Rigel, back me up here. You’re a guy. What do you think about my new mustache?”
Tilting my head left and right, I taunted the fae ruler fearlessly. He’d been coming frequently for over two years now, and I’d yet to get a rise out of him, despite trying often enough.
As per usual, Rigel didn’t even blink at me. Man, the guy was wound tight.
Oh, well. Someday I’d get him. In the meantime, I’d just use his silence to my advantage.
“See, Rhonda? Rigel agrees with me. He’s impressed beyond words at my masculine visage.”
“Can your masculine visage take the orders of our other customers?” Rhonda nodded at the new group of fae.
The fae, however, shifted nervously as they waited in their spot behind Rigel.”
“My masculine visage says no. The newbies aren’t coming any closer.”
Rhonda shook her head, distracted by a beep on the headset she was wearing indicating a drive through customer.
“Hey! You can move up to the counter, you know. I can see that you’re fae, by the way, so do you want tea or more tea? Or are you one of the converts that is here to try coffee?”
Despite my attempts to encourage the fae to approach the counter, they insisted on staying back. Rigel barely flicked his eyes in their direction.
“Green tea? White tea? Black Tea? Orange Tea? Night Court tea?” I rattled off as I wiped down the frothing wand that Rhonda had abandoned. I held up a finger as I listed each one, in an odd sort of ordering sign language.
The fae just looked at me blankly. “…That’s all I’ve got fingers for, guys. If you want to be more specific, you’re gonna have to order at the counter.”
I turned back to Rhonda. “The mustache has given me power. My masculine visage is too great. I am intimidating the customers.”
“Sounds like you’re in the perfect spot to monitor the drive through then,” Rhonda quipped, pulling off the café headset for the drive through and handing it over. “We just had a car pull up. If you can take care of that while I finish up with Rigel, I’ll get the tea steeping for the fae once they order.”
“You got it, boss lady!” I chirped out, taking the headset from Rhonda and making my way over to our drive through register.
*-*-*
Mercifully, the car only wanted a plain black coffee—too busy to step out to come in the shop I guess—and it only took a minute to process their order. By the time I’d finished with them, Rigel had departed, and Rhonda had the fae teas steeping in several of our tea infusers. Rhonda and I switched off so she could go back on the drive through so I could take care of the counter and clean up.
Digital timers on the infusers told me each of the tea drinks had somewhere from a minute to three minutes left to reach maximum flavor, so I got busy dishing up the rest of the syrups and ice while I waited.
Pouring the tea out into their corresponding cups when ready, I popped the lids on and turned to present the drinks at the counter.
“Green Tease, Berry Much in Love, You’re a Chai-mer, and Night Court, ready to go.” I announced popping each on the counter.
The fae slowly inched forward, retrieving their corresponding cup, while peering at me.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked, leaning against the counter. “More ice? Cream? Sugar? Honey? Lemon?” I rattled off some of the frequent requests we would get from the visiting fae, who I’d learned were particularly picky about their tea.
“Maybe, maybe not,” one of the fae said mysteriously as they swirled their drink.
One of the gentleman—a dryad, if I clocked the leaves and branches—right sipped their drink silently, eyes flicking back and forth between the remaining trio.
“You are frie—familiar with King Rigel?” Another asked, their brows pinched.
I waved a hand. Looks like they just had common curiosity. “Friends? Nah. He just comes in here with his wife a lot. We’re kind of Queen Leila’s preferred coffee place. Isn’t that how you heard of us?” I asked, gesturing to the décor and photos littering the walls. Leila and Rigel’s pictures were positively everywhere, and Rhonda had themed all of our drinks after their romance.
“Would they notice if you were missing?”
“What?” I squinted my eyes at the asker. This one I was pretty sure was called a naiad. They seemed to have a drippy sort of air around them, and their clothes looked like they were wet. Greedily, they sucked down a gulp of their iced strawberry tea.
The fae blinked at me, and I caught the red head shifting impatiently behind them, probably still waiting to place her order.
“Yeah,” I finally said, giving them a look, trying to convey how weird they were being. “I guess they would, since they come often enough. Why?”
The fae exchanged a look between them. “You mentioned wanting to improve your mustache,” the first fae speaker said.
This one looked more human in his features, which normally would have made me think he was one of the fancy fae nobles that dropped in all the time. I hadn’t taken much note of him the first time, but given the odd questioning, I took a closer look at him. Instead of the usual bright and sparkly clothing pieces, his seemed more worn and not as bright. The pallor of his face was off, which I had chalked up to just being due to the chillier weather we’d been having, but now he had me thinking maybe there was more to this group than I had first expected.
The fae were still waiting on my answer, so I snorted before I responded.
“I think it’s coming out quite well!” I bristled, still put off by this weird exchange.
“It is quite…something,” the final, also humanoid fae sputtered.
“We happen to have a few friends that are rather decent at fae potionmaking, specializing in adjusting appearances,” the first fae began again. Smoothly, he leaned against the counter, leaning in with a grin. “For a modest price, we could secure a potion for you, perhaps one that would help you to grow an impressive mustache or beard, if you like.”
I wrinkled my nose a the slimy car-salesman vibe the fae was giving off, though I wasn’t sure he realized it. “Isn’t the sale of magic items, like, restricted?”
“Not if you know the right fae,” the fae winked at me with another grin.
The whole thing sounded shady and I sized up the guys in front of me.
Reaching my hand into my pocket, I found my cell phone. “Give me a sec to think about it,” I responded carefully.
“Hurry back!” the other humanoid fae said, and I could almost swear some weird sort of pressure hit the area.
Casting a look at the redhead just behind the group I tossed her a smile. “Sorry, Miss. It’ll be just one second, I promise.”