Fairy Lover: Franziska Part One (complete)

The dangers to the Empire have been growing for some time now, leading the more vulnerable people to band together. Lately, many of the fairy tribes have been working in tandem to protect themselves. Some have even started joining together to create stronger forces. 

My home lies north of the Basmek, a famous commune of magic users, so we have always had extra protection. Our tribe is of Bumble, and our Queen has invited several other fairy tribes to join ours - but so far only two have agreed to cooperate with us. The first is the Red Beetles, a tribe from the south. 

As a carpenter, I have been working tirelessly to build extra domiciles for the incoming fairies. In a way, I’m a bit resentful. The Red Beetles, or Lady Bugs as they are derisively called, are known as a self-centered people. Where the Bumble are known for being hardworking, the Red Beetles are known for extravagance and putting on airs. Why the Queen decided to take them in is beyond me. I just know that all my hard work, all the time I’m taking to help these people, will be sneered at and derided for not being good enough. 

On the day of the Red Beetles’ arrival, I am waiting to watch the procession with everyone else. Supposedly the Red Beetles always make a grand entrance, and I want to see them make asses of themselves. Once the gates open, there is a red caravan beyond, pulled by bison that are decorated in red and black all over. The caravan itself is draped in sheer red fabric, and the wheels are a glossy black. Around it, the Lady Bugs are dressed in ornate red gowns, dancing about so their skirts swirl up to reveal the black petals underneath. 

The back of the caravan is wide open, showing the royal family sitting inside. I can’t quite tell who the King and Queen are, as they all look the same. Beautiful, but the same. Their children follow behind, from youngest to eldest.

The eldest at the back has on a gauzy gown, with a train that flows like a red carpet behind them. They wear a headdress of black crystals on their head, and their face is painted completely red, save for two dots of black below the eyes.

The train of the dress gets caught and they topple over, falling with a scream onto their face. The rest of the caravan keeps going. Not one of their siblings turns to look at them. As they try to get up, they keep getting caught. Behind them, the rest of the procession is advancing. A panicked look comes across their red face, and they pull so hard at the train that it starts to tear.

A pitiful cry comes from their throat, and tears come to their eyes. I suppose I have a weakness for this sort of display - having many little sisters, I have seen such things happen from time to time. I come forward, pick them up off the ground and wrap part of their train around my arm. To my surprise, they are quite light despite the bulkiness of their wings and outfit. 

“Thank you!” they whimper, burying their face in my shoulder. “I’m so mortified! My parents are going to be so angry!”

“Hey now,” I huff. “As long as you can get up and walk again, it’ll be fine.”

They whine, rubbing their face against my shoulder. “Please no!”

I scoff and keep the pathetic royal in my arms, following the procession up to the main Hive where the Queen is waiting. I continue to try and convince the weeping royal to let me set them down, but no matter what I say, they keep blubbering. 

It isn’t until we are in the Queen’s Hive that I am allowed to set them down. By this time, the ceremony and pomp of their entrance is dropped, and the siblings come to their eldest.

“What happened to you?” one gasps.

“Did you hurt yourself? Is it that ankle again?” another chirps.

The royal sniffles and rubs their eyes, smearing some of the makeup on their face. “My train got caught.”

The siblings all roll their eyes at once.

“This one helped me,” they say. They turn and look up at me. Their face is moony and their dark eyes are bright. “Thank you.” They bow their head. “I know what happened to me was shameful. You did not have to embarrass yourself to help me.”

I’m a bit taken back. Do they really take such offense to such minor things? “No, really,” I try to cover. “I have siblings who trip all the time. It’s no big deal.”

The Lady Bug siblings all whisper and giggle until their parents appear. The one I helped stands beside me, their hands folded together and their head dropped down low. 

“Franziska,” the taller one sniffs. “What was that?”

Franziska has tears in their eyes again, and their shoulders are shuddering. “I am sorry,” they sniffle.

The shorter one drives their cane into the ground. “You embarrassed us!”

“I know,” they whimper. “It was mortifying. I would never want to embarrass my family in such a way! But the train of my dress--” they start to argue.

The tall one scoffs. “Excuses, Franziska?” They click their tongue. “Take responsibility. You said you could manage such a long train. You said your design was perfect and you could manage it. You always go overboard! You were also supposed to lead the family, not linger behind it.” They sigh and shake their head.

“You’re supposed to be the heir, and yet you let your vanity rule you,” the shorter one scolds. “We’re giving you a lot of responsibility on this journey, Franziska. We expect so much more from you.”

The tall one turns to me. “Thank goodness this strapping young man was there.” They smile. Their black lipstick is painted in such a way their lips look like a heart. “The Bumbles know how to grow them.”

I shiver under their gaze, feeling like cornered prey. “It was nothing, really. I just wanted to help is all.”

Franziska sniffles and covers their eyes with both hands. “I am sorry, Mama,” they whimper to the tall one. “Papa,” they say to the short one.

I still can’t tell them apart.

“I may be speaking out of turn...” I quickly jump in to hopefully alleviate the tension that is mounting. “My father always said it is not how we fall down that matters, but how we pick ourselves up.” I glance at Franziska, who is peering through their long fingers at me. “When I was young and just learning how to fly, I used to crash all the time.” I laugh nervously under so many unblinking gazes. “But I took them as lessons rather than defeats.”

“The handsome one is right.” The short one points to me. “Learn from him, Franziska. No need to be so dramatic!”

“Imagine handling a war with this same attitude.” The tall one huffs and shakes their head. “Your ancestors would rise from the grave!”

Franziska reaches out and takes my hand. “Will you help me?”

I am stunned by how sudden this is. “Help you?” I ask.

Their hand is thin and delicate, where mine is thick and stumpy. They hold my hand with both of theirs and squeeze tight. “Teach me how to be more like you.”

“Excellent idea!” the short one says. “Who can we borrow you from?”

“It will be good to learn about our hosts as well,” the tall one says with a nod. “What are your hours? Do you by chance hold any seminars?”

I balk and try to take a step back, but I am surrounded by these beautiful creatures. “I’m just a carpenter!” I blurt out. 

They all recoil, glancing at one another while Franziska still clings to my hand. I swallow the lump in my throat, hoping this will dissuade them.

“Well then, teach Franziska carpentry,” the short one laughs.

“Papa!” Franziska releases my hand and jumps before them. “How can you even suggest that? I cannot work as a carpenter! I am a royal!”

The tall one approaches me while Franziska and their other parent argue. “What is your name, young man?”

“Oh, uh-” I clear my throat. “Barnaby.”

They smirk and look me over again. “How very cute.” They glance at Franziska. “What can you teach my child?”

“Uh-” I stall for a moment, not sure what they are asking exactly. “It all depends. I know quite a few things.”

They hum, pressing a fingertip to their lips. “I have an idea,” they say. “Franziska has been asking us over and over for a cedar chest. Do you know how to make those?”

I nod, remaining silent.

“Wonderful then,” they chuckle. “Show Franziska how to make one. Then, when they build their own, they will see just what such things are truly worth.”

“Mama!” Franziska shouts. “You can’t expect me to do such a thing. Can you? Would you?”

Mama smirks. “I don’t have to. You do.”

“I have to confess,” I speak up again. “Right now, I am quite busy. I have been constructing domiciles for your people. It is quite time-consuming, and exhausting on top of that.”

Mama and Papa look at one another. “We intend to pay handsomely,” Papa says. 

“And, if need be, Franziska will work to your schedule,” Mama says.

Franziska sniffs and looks to me again.

I sigh and shake my head. “Perhaps in the evenings,” I mutter. “Or during the three rest days.”

“That, then,” Papa replies. “Franziska will learn from you during the rest days.”

I leave as the royal family to join the Queen. As I stand outside the royal hive, I feel a heavy weight on my chest. In a way, I feel like I’ve signed some sort of devil’s contract, or like I am trapped in an hourglass and the sands have just begun to pour down upon me.

I have a couple of days before my rest period begins. I gather supplies to teach Franziska with, but I am quite ambivalent about it all. I can use the extra money that the Red Beetle royals have offered to pay me, but I cherish my rest days. Poor Franziska appears to be a handful, even for a Lady Bug. 

On the day I am to start working with Franziska, I stay in bed for as long as possible. I stare up at the ceiling, feeling the sand of the hourglass continue to rain down upon me. Then I get up, go to the kitchen and start to make my meal. Then there is a quiet knock at the door.

“Who goes?” I call out.

“Franziska,” they reply. 

“Already?” I grumble under my breath. I open the door and find Franziska standing there, wearing a posh, bright red romper with fine gold buttons and trim. On either side of the door are two guards, who remain outside as Franziska walks in. 

Their head is cast down, and their hair is styled into fluffy curls that frame their face. Their lips are painted black, and they have on what appears to be false eyelashes. I also can’t help but notice that their figure is pear-shaped, and their bottom is quite ample.

“You’re early,” I say with a chuckle. I quickly grab my coat, realizing I am not properly dressed. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“My parents want me to get up early and start as soon as possible each day.” They say it genially, but there is a repugnance in their tone. They look at me and I see their eyes focus on my chest for a moment.

I clear my throat as the nerves pick up. “Have you had breakfast? I was just getting ready to make my own.”

Franziska shakes their head. “I had tea, but not much else.” They take a seat at my table. “Is this supposed to be a lesson?”

“No… just breakfast?” I say. “Let me go change and I’ll be right back.”

Franziska ducks their chin and giggles. “Alright.”

When I come back out, Franziska is still sitting at the table, looking at the ring on their hand. As I come in, they glance up and a slight smile lifts corners of their lips.

“The Bumbles are so strange,” they say as I start to cook. “Do you rely on gender so much?”

“I’m not quite sure how to answer that question,” I chuckle. “What do you mean by that?”

“Us Red Beetles go with whatever suits us. Some prefer to be more feminine, others more masculine. Personally, I like both. Some days I feel one, and the next the other. Lots of days I feel like neither.”

“I think us Bumbles prefer hard lines,” I reply. “I know I prefer being who I am.”

Franziska hums. “So, you’ve never wanted to try anything else?”

I place a plate of food before them. “I have not been that curious,” I chuckle.

Franziska looks down at the plate of food. They take a taste, then glance up at me as I sit down. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

I nearly choke on my first bite of breakfast. “What brings this on?” I cough, wiping at my face with a napkin. 

“I think you’re handsome,” Franziska says with a smile. “Maybe, if you think I’m pretty, we can--”

“You’re not getting out of this work,” I staunchly reply.

Franziska frowns. “How did you--?” They grunt. “I wasn’t going to even suggest...” They give up trying to find an excuse, and continue to poke at the food I made them.

“I made a promise to your parents, and I need the money. So I am not going to slack.” I take a drink of my tea. “Besides, of all the things to learn, a cedar chest is one of the easiest.”

“What is the easiest?” Franziska pouts.

“Probably a birdhouse,” I laugh.

Franziska sighs, their shoulders slouching. “Do you think I really need to learn how to do this?” they ask. “What would be the point?”

“It’s not just about building the chest,” I sigh. “There is more to it than that, and it’s that lesson your parents want you to learn.”

Franziska slouches again and tilts their chin towards me. “What if I fail?”

I try to smile in a reassuring way. “Then we try again.”

Franziska looks down again. “I can’t keep my mind straight when I look at you,” they huff. “I really did mean it when I said you’re handsome.”

My heart skips a beat. “If it helps, I’ll wear a mask.”

Franziska smiles shyly at me. “No. I like your face.” They giggle, breaking into a great big grin. There is a glow about them that draws me in, something that makes the sands of the hourglass stop for just a twinkle.

I smile again because of them. “You are pretty, Franziska. But there is more to you than just that.”

“I know,” they grumble. 

I nod. “Well, then. If you’re done eating, I have all the supplies ready. We can get started.”

Franziska huffs. “No seconds?”

“Afraid not,” I move the dishes to the sink. “This way. I have a workshop.”

I take them to the back room of the house where my tool shop is set up. I then give them gloves and a mask to protect their nose and mouth. 

“What’s this for?” they grumble.

“I would suggest taking off the eyelashes too,” I say as I get my gloves on. “We’re preparing the wood today, and you could get sawdust in them.”

Franziska gasps in horror. “Sawdust?” They look over at the pile of wood. “Couldn’t you have gotten lumber that was already prepared?”

I hand them a sandpapering tool. “I’m showing you everything. At least I didn’t make you chop down the tree.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Franziska balks.

I laugh and sit down, taking a slab of wood. “Go with the grain of the wood until you get it smooth and level at the edges.” I show them. “After that’s done, we’ll cure the cedar and give it a protective coat.”

“How do I know it’s level?” Franziska pouts.

I motion to my work desk. “There’s a special tool for that. After I’m done, I’ll show you how to properly use it.”

Franziska watches me as I work, their eyes fixed on me as I sand down the edges. Then they turn to their wood, looking at it like some foreign object from a different land. In a way, it is kind of cute. Eventually, they stand up and take the gloves off. I watch them peel away the false lashes, and they sniffle.

“I told you.” I stop my work and approach them. “Did something get in your eye?”

They whimper and nod. Heavy tears fall from the corners of their eyes. 

“Okay, then.” I gently put my hands on their face. “Tilt your head back for me.” I smooth my thumb under their eye. “Now open your eyes wide for me.”

They tilt back a little too far and start to fall. I grab them, nearly toppling myself. I turn at a sharp angle and our bodies press together. Franziska clutches my arms and we look at one another.

“I think you got it,” they gasp.

I swallow down the heavy lump in my throat. We do not part right away. The moment hangs in the air like a pendulum. This could be dangerous.