Galway, Ireland
Linnet Dark-Garnet was one of the most well known Elven exiles living in the human world. She was one of those who had been caught when the border disappeared, and had spent most of that time living in Ireland. Over the years she had gained fame as the premier poet of the 21st century. Songs had been written from her works and taught in even the most mundane of English Lit classes.
She was also, unbeknownst to anyone in the World, and only a very few in Bordertown, a fraud. Though she was every bit the poet everyone said she was, she was not much of an Elf. In point of fact she was only a third Elf, at most. Her father was human, her mother a half-blood. But she looked every bit as True Blooded as the Queen of Elfland herself, and was incredibly skilled at playing the part.
Leda saw through her right away. There was something about her that reminded Leda of herself in the days when she would slip on personas as if they were dresses.
"Do you know what a Chameleon is?" Leda asked her.
"I've been living amongst the mortals for a decade your Majesty." Linnet said with a perfect Faerie accent. "Of course I know what that is." She hesitated. "Those are the lizards that change color right?"
Leda laughed. "Yes, that's the one. Now, have you ever heard of a social Chameleon?"
Linnet was not stupid. She knew she'd been found out, but she maintained her facade.
"Look, Linney," that shook her. That was what they had called her at the Mock Avenue Studio. "Please drop the act. Your secret is safe with me but I've done the whole Dragons Tooth Princess bit and it's tired. And if you call me 'your Majesty' again I will empty my Guinness onto your head."
Linney looked around warily. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion elsewhere?" Where they were less likely to attract the attention of some tweeter who would reveal to the world her dark mundane secret.
Soon enough the two former B-Town girls were on the trail that led from the University of Ireland in Galway along the Shannon River.
"This better?" Leda asked.
Linney looked around warily and decided the coast was clear. "Yeah. S'right. How did you-"
"Like I said," Leda shrugged. "I've been there. You want desperately to fit in, so you pretend to be someone you're not. You're good at it, so was I. But eventually..." She let that hang in the air. "But hey, I'm not tryin' to rain on your parade McCade. I just prefer to be straight with people these days and vice versa."
"Got it. So, you're lookin' for Queen Mab's grave?"
"Yeap. Last Faerie ruler before the big retreat they say. And as it turns out, my Great Grandmother."
"Get right the fuck out of town!"
"Ladys' honest truth. The records are available in Faery. I brought copies with me in case people need proof. As much proof as pieces of paper can be anyway."
Linney had come from Dublin when she heard that the Queen was in her neck of the woods, and this news alone was worth the trip. "Can I come with? I mean, I've been there before, it was one of the first places my friends here brought me, but...to see it with you there..." Her eyes glittered dreamily and she whipped out a note pad and began scribbling furiously.
For her part, Leda had been very interested to meet such auspicious poet. She adored poetry though her own contributions had rarely gone beyond the 'rhyme time' style of talking. She felt uniquely flattered to have inspired someone has talented as this.
She waited patiently for the girl's momentum to die down, which it did after a few moments of writing. "Sorry. But when the muse strikes..."
"Not a problem at all. When you finish whatever that was I'd love a signed copy."
"As you wish Your Majesty."
*****
"Your clothes are too big for me!" Linney called from the bathroom.
"Yeah, I get it, I'm short for an Elf." Leda grumbled. "Just roll the sleeves and pant legs up!"
Linney emerged from the bathroom, her hair still wet, and wearing a shirt and pants borrowed from her host. "You didn't have to push me in the river."
"I don't like titles. I warned you not to use it. C'mon, I made tea."
"It must've been weird." Linney said, holding the tea (real Elven tea!) up to her nose and inhaling the aroma. "Growing up in Soho and then finding out, 'hey guess what! You're that lost heir everyone's talking about!"
"To say nothing of the time travel. That was so out there they wouldn't even touch that one on the B-Town HBO series."
"To being stranger than fiction." the poet grinned, holding up her cup in a toast.
"Cheers."
The radio was on, but neither were paying much attention until suddenly Linney exclaimed; "Oh! Turn it up, I love this guy." It was one of Eminem's more impressive feats. "It's the closest I've ever heard a human come to an Elven Rant."
Leda's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit-cock, I never noticed that before!"
"...Shit cock?"
"I said I like poetry, I didn't say I was good at it."
She was also, unbeknownst to anyone in the World, and only a very few in Bordertown, a fraud. Though she was every bit the poet everyone said she was, she was not much of an Elf. In point of fact she was only a third Elf, at most. Her father was human, her mother a half-blood. But she looked every bit as True Blooded as the Queen of Elfland herself, and was incredibly skilled at playing the part.
Leda saw through her right away. There was something about her that reminded Leda of herself in the days when she would slip on personas as if they were dresses.
"Do you know what a Chameleon is?" Leda asked her.
"I've been living amongst the mortals for a decade your Majesty." Linnet said with a perfect Faerie accent. "Of course I know what that is." She hesitated. "Those are the lizards that change color right?"
Leda laughed. "Yes, that's the one. Now, have you ever heard of a social Chameleon?"
Linnet was not stupid. She knew she'd been found out, but she maintained her facade.
"Look, Linney," that shook her. That was what they had called her at the Mock Avenue Studio. "Please drop the act. Your secret is safe with me but I've done the whole Dragons Tooth Princess bit and it's tired. And if you call me 'your Majesty' again I will empty my Guinness onto your head."
Linney looked around warily. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion elsewhere?" Where they were less likely to attract the attention of some tweeter who would reveal to the world her dark mundane secret.
Soon enough the two former B-Town girls were on the trail that led from the University of Ireland in Galway along the Shannon River.
"This better?" Leda asked.
Linney looked around warily and decided the coast was clear. "Yeah. S'right. How did you-"
"Like I said," Leda shrugged. "I've been there. You want desperately to fit in, so you pretend to be someone you're not. You're good at it, so was I. But eventually..." She let that hang in the air. "But hey, I'm not tryin' to rain on your parade McCade. I just prefer to be straight with people these days and vice versa."
"Got it. So, you're lookin' for Queen Mab's grave?"
"Yeap. Last Faerie ruler before the big retreat they say. And as it turns out, my Great Grandmother."
"Get right the fuck out of town!"
"Ladys' honest truth. The records are available in Faery. I brought copies with me in case people need proof. As much proof as pieces of paper can be anyway."
Linney had come from Dublin when she heard that the Queen was in her neck of the woods, and this news alone was worth the trip. "Can I come with? I mean, I've been there before, it was one of the first places my friends here brought me, but...to see it with you there..." Her eyes glittered dreamily and she whipped out a note pad and began scribbling furiously.
For her part, Leda had been very interested to meet such auspicious poet. She adored poetry though her own contributions had rarely gone beyond the 'rhyme time' style of talking. She felt uniquely flattered to have inspired someone has talented as this.
She waited patiently for the girl's momentum to die down, which it did after a few moments of writing. "Sorry. But when the muse strikes..."
"Not a problem at all. When you finish whatever that was I'd love a signed copy."
"As you wish Your Majesty."
*****
"Your clothes are too big for me!" Linney called from the bathroom.
"Yeah, I get it, I'm short for an Elf." Leda grumbled. "Just roll the sleeves and pant legs up!"
Linney emerged from the bathroom, her hair still wet, and wearing a shirt and pants borrowed from her host. "You didn't have to push me in the river."
"I don't like titles. I warned you not to use it. C'mon, I made tea."
"It must've been weird." Linney said, holding the tea (real Elven tea!) up to her nose and inhaling the aroma. "Growing up in Soho and then finding out, 'hey guess what! You're that lost heir everyone's talking about!"
"To say nothing of the time travel. That was so out there they wouldn't even touch that one on the B-Town HBO series."
"To being stranger than fiction." the poet grinned, holding up her cup in a toast.
"Cheers."
The radio was on, but neither were paying much attention until suddenly Linney exclaimed; "Oh! Turn it up, I love this guy." It was one of Eminem's more impressive feats. "It's the closest I've ever heard a human come to an Elven Rant."
Leda's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit-cock, I never noticed that before!"
"...Shit cock?"
"I said I like poetry, I didn't say I was good at it."