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It was a crazy plan, Dahlia knew that. But Dahlia was a little crazy herself. Years of isolation would do that to a person.
She thought about the path that led her here while she laid in her cold, dark cell. It was hard to believe that this place, with its dirt walls and barbed metal bars, was not only a part of Fairytopia, but part of the palace itself. Miles below, of course.
Then again, she shouldn’t be so surprised. While Fairytopia kept up the image of the most beautiful fairy kingdom, with lush lands and bright, colorful cities full of happy little fairies living in their flower homes, there had always been a darker undercurrent to it. One most fairies didn’t recognize. But Dahlia wasn’t a fairy. She was a dryad who was born and raised in a fairy community.
Dahlia wasn’t ashamed of being a dryad, at least, not anymore. It came with a special connection to nature that fairies lacked, and the ability to access different types of magic than fairies. But in Fairytopia, it also meant getting stared at and glared at when fairies saw her distinctive single-layer wings. It meant avoiding the nicer parts of the city, where shop and restaurant windows were adorned with “Fairies Only” signs. It meant no one wanted to hire her. It meant regularly getting told to to go back to the woods, a place which, until her exile, Dahlia had never been.
Despite of all this, Dahlia kept her head up. She was still idealistic and young when she met Laverna, the Enchantress’s younger sister. Dahlia was instantly entranced. And who wouldn’t be? Laverna was beautiful, with a fierce and commanding aura.
Her stomach flipped as she remembered the moments they shared. Dahlia became her assistant in her political campaigns to improve Fairytopia. Laverna had a vision, one Dahlia believed in wholeheartedly even though Laverna never told her the details. Laverna didn’t mind working with a dryad. In fact, their work spilled over into dinners, drinks, friendship, and then more.
Laverna finally began to trust her. And Dahlia betrayed that trust.
Dahlia aged fifty years that day. She remembered it in annoyingly crisp detail--the way the marble floors of the palace shone, the designs carved into the arms and legs of the throne, the way the Enchantress had looked at her coldly, with mild disinterest. And Dahlia told her everything. Because despite Fairytopia’s failings, she believed they could do better. She believed the Enchantress when she said she was working to improve their society. Dahlia didn’t love the Rainbow Council, but at least it spread out some of the political power--surely it would be insane to disband them. And as for the Enchantress, murder was just too far. Not only did she not deserve it, but it would surely haunt Laverna for the rest of her life, killing her own sister. Despite it all, Dahlia still cared, and some deluded part of her mind even thought Laverna would eventually understand, and forgive her, and they would be together again.
Now she understood how naive she had been. She had betrayed the person she loved most for the sake of her country, and what had she gotten in return?
Exile. Exile, for working with Laverna in the first place.
With nowhere else to go, Dahlia was left alone in her unfamiliar native land. The woods were long dead, with not a single other dryad to be found. They had all migrated in different directions generations ago when the forest died. All that remained were thorns and a couple of trolls.
Something inside of Dahlia shut down. For days she laid among the rotting plants on the forest floor, surviving only by the kindness of the trolls who brought her food. They eventually got her to her feet and taught her how to survive. Dahlia did it all on autopilot--foraging for what little food the barren lands provided, hauling water back to the hollow tree where she livedz, fending off predators with sharpened sticks. The only thing keeping her alive was a bitter sense that this miserable existence was her punishment for getting Laverna killed. The only woman she had ever loved, and probably the only one who would ever love her back, had been publicly executed.
Or so she thought. Many years went by with no reason to think otherwise. From time to time a gnome or a troop of fungus would pass through the woods, and they were Dahlia’s only source of outside information. One little gnome, a traveling merchant, came by around the same time every year. Each year, he told her the latest news in Fairytopia, which, over time, painted a picture of an increasingly hostile environment. Non-fairy creatures such as themselves had to deal with increasingly tough restrictions on where they could and couldn’t go. Fairies born with “defects” such as missing or damaged wings were quietly shipped off to the poorest rural areas of the kingdom. Stairs, roads, and pathways were cleared in favor of grandiose displays of wealth--fountains and statues of their fearless leader.
But most importantly--to Dahlia, anyway--rumor was Laverna was alive, that she had escaped hours before her execution. Dahlia was careful not to get her hopes up. But the building of a mysterious fortress out in the forbidden lands had all the marks of her former lover. And when a troupe of passing fungus told her with no hint of uncertainty that they were working for Laverna, she could no longer deny it. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to hope.
It came to her in the middle of the night with startling clarity. She knew what she had to do. It was the only way to right her earlier wrong, and maybe, just maybe earn Laverna’s forgiveness.
It was for this crime that she now laid in the dirt miles below the palace. Her own execution was due in a matter of hours, but it didn’t matter. She had got the job done. The Enchantress was dead by her hand, and the Rainbow Council was presumably busy bickering amongst themselves in preparation for a power struggle.
Dahlia lifted her head at the sound of footsteps. She jumped to her feet when she saw who it was.
“Laverna,” she breathed, when the dark fairy finally stood before her, alive and well, after nearly ten years apart.
“Dahlia,” she said softly.
Dahlia knew she must hardly look like Laverna remembered; the years had not been kind to her. Laverna somehow looked as stunning as ever. There were a few new wrinkles, but they only added to the wisdom plain to see in her eyes.
“What were you thinking?” Her frown was as stern as ever. “Surely you knew you’d get caught.”
“I knew you’d come rescue me.” The words spilled out unbidden. “At least, I hope that’s why you’re here.”
“Of course it is, my love. I’ve been looking for you.”
Dahlia felt her heart stop. “You have? And you... you know what I did, right?”
“I do,” said Laverna softly. She reached through the bars to gently brush some hair out of her face. “I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you in the first place.”
“You weren’t mad?”
“Maybe a little, at first. But after all this time, I...” Laverna was always so self-assured, but now she hesitated. “I just miss you.” Laverna waved her hand, and the lock on her cell sprung open. The door swung out and Dahlia leapt into Laverna’s arms.
“I missed you too,” she whispered. “I won’t ever betray you again, I swear. Please...just take me home with you.”
Laverna breathed in deeply as she hugged her tight. “Oh, we’re not going anywhere, darling.”
“What do you mean?”
“This palace is mine now, and so it is yours too.” She pulled away and looked Dahlia in the eyes, smiling. “We’re home, my love. Now come upstairs with me, and be my queen.”