Chapter Text
It had taken Dawn half the night and a good deal of luck to find the Dark Forest castle. Yellow light spilled out of a sharp-toothed skull, giving it away. After alighting on a high branch nearby, Dawn checked if her wings were still dark and dull with a dusting of soot. Satisfied that she was as hard to spot as could be, she watched for a while.
The castle did not do anything very interesting. One goblin came out of the morbidly designed entrance and scampered off into the undergrowth, but that did not allow any conclusions about regular guard rounds.
Before she could convince herself that the whole plan was a bad idea, she took to the air again. No-one raised an alarm when she flitted inside, wings rustling when they brushed unexpected spikes protruding from the walls.
After clearing this strange gullet, Dawn kept close to the ceiling in an attempt to stay out of sight. The high corridors and sparse lighting helped, as did the fact that she passed no-one. Once faint murmurs drifted from a passage leading up. Dawn took a second to gather her nerves and flew on, looking for a way down. That was where she expected dungeons to be.
Biting her lip, wondering if this place really did not have doors or if she was just missing them in the gloom, she followed a straight set of stairs, but only found a storage room filled with barrels.
The second way down led to a spiral staircase clinging to a column and looked very promising, in a way that made her stomach drop unpleasantly. Cages, their bars adorned with wicked thorns, were hung from the ceiling by thick chains.
Dawn glided down, following the spiral of the staircase to avoid bumping into any of the cages. There was faint, orange light, like in other parts of the castle when they were lit at all, but the further down she went, the more prominent a strangely cold light became. Her hope sank when every single cage was empty, and she heard no sound of anybody but her moving or breathing. But now that she’d come this far, she had to make sure.
At the bottom, in the dungeon proper, she saw the first doors in this place, tall and rust brown and closed. She landed on the dusty ground and chewed on her bottom lip, wondering how loud they would be to open.
In a little fit of nerves she decided to investigate the blue light first. It rose from a pit under a heavy wooden grate — a particularly unpleasant cell? Through the bars she could make out dust, rotted wood debris, and suspended in a twisted branch, a cobweb orb, its silken lines glowing forget-me-not blue. Dawn squinted. There seemed to be a darker spot at the centre, an uneven lump.
The grate was ramshackle and had apparently been built to hold more massive prisoners than a young fairy, so Dawn folded her wings and slid down into the cell.
Seeing the shadow a bit more clearly, it seemed to be a small fairy-like figure, curled up on its side to sleep, lying on thin air. “Um, hello?”
There was a flurry of movement and language coarse enough to make Dawn’s ears feel tender, until the figure inside got itself sorted out, standing upright on nothing, facing Dawn, dragonfly wings hanging down motionless. Long, thin limbs and wide shoulders topped with spiky scales, and a gravelly voice surprisingly deep for someone about the size of Dawn’s hand. “Who’re you? Plum’s idea of a joke?”
“She doesn’t know I’m here. Are you the Bog King?”
He sagged a little, looking to the side, brows drawing down yet deeper, and let out a huff. “Just Bog.”
“I’d expected someone… taller.” Dawn gestured vaguely.
“Very funny. You still haven’t told me who you are or why you’re here. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate a bit of random conversation if that’s all you’re after. How’s the weather?”
“I’m here because I need your help.”
Bog shifted to sitting cross-legged, and leaned forward. After a pointed look at his prison, he smirked. “That’s gotta be good. Before you break me out, tell me what you need help with. I might prefer staying if it’s too crazy.”
“I need to know how to neutralise love potion.” She continued over Bog’s disgusted sound. “I never got the whole story, but they say the Sugar Plum Fairy locked you up because you can beat its magic.”
Bog didn’t look at her. He’d lowered his head, cradling his forehead with one of his big, clawed hands. After a pause just long enough to start feeling awkward, he said, “Look. I’d appreciate if you’d get me out, since you’re here anyway, but deals need to be honest.” He looked her firmly in the eye. “I have no clue. Love potion did not work for me, I tried to punish her for making a fool of me. We fought, she won. I can promise to do my best to get her to give you the information you need, but not more.”
Dawn whimpered. That was not what she’d hoped for.
“Or you could just ask her, you know. What happened, anyway? Dusted a guy and getting tired of him?”
“No!” Her indignation faded as quickly as it had flared up, and she started pulling on her fingers. “My sister is under the influence. The guy she’s in love with seemed perfect at first, but now that she does everything he asks he’s totally twisted her. And… Well, it’s just all around bad.”
“Huh. Well, what are you going to do?”
“The Sugar Plum Fairy-”
“Sugar Plum Queen.”
“By her reputation I doubt she’d help me. But I don’t know how to get you out.”
“Reach in and pull me out. It’s a one-person trap.”
“Are you sure?”
“Girlie, I made it. Yes, I’m sure. Are you sure it’s worth the risk?”.
“What risk?”
“Just wondering how the Queen of the Dark Forest might take it when a subject of the Fairy King frees her favourite prisoner. She is a tad erratic. The consequences might get serious.”
Dawn’s brows drew together, her eyes narrowing. Her lips nearly disappeared. “What’d happen if I don’t free Marianne from that cockroach’s influence would be worse. Here.”
She reached a hand into the glowing orb, surprising them both with the sudden gesture. It seemed to shrink once inside; Dawn squeezed her eyes shut and turned away. When she felt Bog’s hand wrapping around her wrist, huge, rough, with long nails pressing into her skin, she grabbed hold of his - a weird construction half made of armour plates - and pulled.
There was resistance that disappeared suddenly. Dawn fell backward, landing on her backside with her folded wings pressed against the wall of the pit. When she opened her eyes, a giant shadow loomed over her, hands braced over her shoulders.
“Eep!”
“You did expect someone taller. You said.” Bog’s grin was crooked, but he stepped back and offered a hand to help Dawn up. Even stooping to not hit his head on the grate, he was taller than her.
“So what do we do now?”
“I need to talk to some goblins. Sugar Plum… I can either ask her for help, or try to force her. That would be another fight. Anyway, first thing is, we get out of here. You first, I need a minute for the trap.”
He lifted the grate at one side and cupped one hand for Dawn to use it as a step to help her out, before turning his attention to the orb. He gestured briefly over it, making the light swirl and constrict, drawing all of the glow into a mote. Holding it between thumb and index finger, he considered a moment, then swallowed it.
The curved stick holding the now grey and lightless cobweb orb went through the grate first. Dawn got it out of the way. Climbing out of the pit while holding up the grate with one hand was awkward, and the thing was too heavy for Dawn’s efforts to make much of a difference, but with some irritated grumping and scraping of chitinous exoskeleton on wood, he made it.
Once outside where he could straighten up, Bog stretched, joints popping. “Aaah, good to be in a proper place again.”
“Proper place?”
“Are you familiar with veil magic?” When she shook her head, he shrugged. “Too long story for now, then.” He grabbed his former prison and gestured with it for the fairy to follow, heading up the stairs. With a look back over his shoulder at the little fairy with her soot-covered wings, dark dress and bright, childlike eyes, he said, “So. Would you prefer tagging along, or would you rather sneak out for me to find you later if I succeed?”
Dawn looked up at him grimly, her chin jutting out. “I’ll watch your back.”
Bog accepted the offer with a slow nod and a smile, warmed both by amusement and appreciation of the sentiment. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Dawn.”
Bog climbed a full spiral of the stairs to give a shocking suspicion time to fade or sink in. It did the latter. It might still be wrong, but he had to ask. “Your sister is Marianne?”
“Yes.”
“Is your father’s name Dagda?”
“Um. Yes?”
Bog sighed deeply. “So that’s the crown princess who’s under a spell.”
“Yes. And Roland, the guy who has her under a spell, is planning to march on the Dark Forest as soon as he has the authority. For glory, or something. Sooo…”
“Not much reason to worry about your little adventure here causing the Dark Forest to attack first. I see.” His next sigh had a bit of a growl mixed in. “Wonderful.”