[ Narrative ] Gotta deal with the devil, 'cause you know that it's real...
Characters: Fred Weasley, Queen Titania
Time: Afternoon
Location: the lands of Summer
Content: An attempt to find a way home went wrong, but delivered Fred into the hands of someone who could fix it all... for a price.
Warnings: None
It was impossibly sultry where he landed. Vegetation that was thicker and more cloying than even the densest part of the Amazonian jungles sprouted from all around him - vines as thick as tree trunks, strange flora that spawned as large as umbrellas in a motley of chaotic blues and reds and oranges, and dark green moss so thick underfoot it might as well have passed as carpet.
The air was heavy enough to make a person begin to sweat within seconds of arriving in the silent green haze - and the quiet itself was unsettling. Despite the wild growth of plants everywhere, the jungle itself lacked another sort of life, the life of animals and insects peering from beneath draping branches or scuttling along the wet bark of the gargantuan trees.
It was a place brimming with life and almost desolate without it.
The heat and humidity hit him like a brick wall. It was a startling change from the weather in Chicago. Fred wasn't sure he'd ever sweated this much before, or this quickly, for that matter - and that included the trip to Egypt. But then, Egypt wasn't a jungle, and the humidity could hardly compare. He stared at the place in wonder, taking in the mismatched color palette and unbelievable size of everything around him.
The first thought to cross his mind was that it was too bad George wasn't here with him. He would have loved it here, possibly even more than Fred himself did. It was simply impossible not to appreciate it. For all that it was lacking in animal life - no chirping from brightly colored birds? In a jungle? Maybe that wasn't how things went here, but it still defied his expectations - it was still quite clear that this place was alive. And if there was anything Fred loved more than George or the rest of the Weasleys, it was life.
His second thought was that this situation was very odd. He’d been trying to Apparate back to Diagon Alley, fully expecting to fail once more. But instead, he’d shown up here. Where even was "here," anyway? It was impossible to tell. Fred had never heard of a jungle quite like this one before, and with all that had been happening in Chicago, it was terribly clear that it was connected with magic. It still wasn't his kind of magic, exactly, but there it was nonetheless.
It occurred to him that he should probably try to go back.
Of course, he dismissed that thought just as quickly as it had formed. Fred Weasley did not run away from a jungle, no matter how strange it seemed. He was a Gryffindor! Besides, it was a rather nice looking place, all things considered, and he wanted to see more of it. And if George were here, they'd definitely have gone exploring. It was simply too great an opportunity to pass up.
So, wearing an expression of excitement and childish glee, Fred set off, without any idea of what he was to find.
The going would have been tough - the brush was so thick and without a heavy machete to clear the path, vines and gargantuan leaves blocked much of the way.
It was only after a few moments that it seemed the branches started to untangle themselves and the flowers suddenly burst into rich and overwhelming fragrance, bowing their bright heads almost respectfully. Motes of golden dust alighted on the near-black bark of the trees and the lush moss below and on Fred's hair, tingling with a strange magical warmth.
"Too often in such a short time have you mortals trespassed on the grounds of Summer," an enchanting voice murmured, and with those few words, the green haze parted slowly to reveal a tall, inhumanly beautiful woman standing only a few feet away from the young wizard. Her feline-like eyes were greener than the silk of her dress or the jungle around both of them, and long white-gold hair spilled over her shoulders. "What is your excuse, boy?"
He hadn't taken so much as two steps when it all changed. Even Fred couldn't deny the beauty of the spectacle, as he curiously peered at the glittering dust in the air and the flowers as they moved, and he hardly even had a second to consider why it was all happening before she appeared.
There was something... off about her, he concluded quickly as he watched her in fascination. Simply put, she was absolutely stunning. Veela couldn't compare with a woman like the one before him. But the way her eyes practically glowed, making even the vibrance of the jungle around them look dull, and the shape of them... Whoever this lady was, she wasn't human. What she was, exactly, Fred didn't know, but after all he'd learned of this Chicago's world so far, he might have an idea.
"No trespassing intended," he assured her lightly, flashing her a smile. "I was only testing something. Didn't reckon it would actually work, let alone bring me here." A shrug.
She remained very still, her face devoid of anything resembling human emotion. Despite the warmth and vitality that surrounded them both, not a hint of that was reflected in her.
"You mortal wizards have an exasperating tendency to do many things 'accidentally.'" Her eyes narrowed. "What world do you hail from? You are not from the realm of the others."
"Comes with the territory, I expect. We can't all be perfect all of the time, right?"
Bloody weird, talking to someone like this. And the tiniest bit scary, too, though Fred would never admit to it. He suddenly felt very out of place. Never had he seen someone stand so still, or be so... blank? No, that wasn't the word for it... Apathetic? Empty, maybe? Even You-Know-Who still felt things like anger and hate.
Then again, You-Know-Who may have not be a proper person, but he was still human, when you got down to it - especially after last year. This... This was one of the Fae. He could hardly expect them to act human.
Didn't make it any less weird.
"I'm from London. The one having problems with You-Kn-" but no, she wouldn't know, would she? - "er, Voldemort. The wizarding world where we actually have to use wands. It really isn't fair that the ones from Chicago here don't have to, you know," Fred told her confidentially. "But at least we have Quidditch. They're really missing out on that one."
Silence.
Finally, a small smile appeared on her lovely face, albeit not exceptionally warm. "You are one of those chosen mortals then in the great wizard's battle." She stepped closer to him, the long green silk of her dress brushing against distracting curves. "A number of you trespassed on the grounds of Summer many days ago and took something that belonged only on the fields of my domain, with a story similar to the one that moments ago departed from your lips."
Her eyes narrowed. "Have you come as thief as your comrades did?"
Fred blinked.
Chosen mortals? Thief?
"I... don't know much about that," he admitted, bemused. "They were probably forced into it. Heard the Postman's been doing that since the first people showed up. But me?" Fred didn't take well to being wrongly accused of stealing. His smile had faded, and he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand before looking back up at her with a frown. "I'm not a thief. They didn't send me here. I was trying to get back to George, see if I could bring anyone back to help everyone stuck in Chicago." He threw his arms up in exasperation. "I don"t even know where we are, let alone if anything of yours might happen to be worth looking at."
The anger subsided in a few moments, and Fred heaved a sigh, crossing his arms. Mild irritation still sparked in his eyes. "Really, now, if you're going to be this bad of a host, maybe I'd be better off with the crazy witch and her pet."
Amusement flickered like fire in her eyes at his outburst, but she let him finish speaking before she held up her hand in acquiescence. "A thief, perhaps not. But certainly a scoundrel." While it seemed as if she would never give off the friendliness of a usual host, the cool suspicion had almost completely vanished. She either had deemed him a non-threat or believed his story.
"They are kept in that false city by the strongest of mortal magic, young man," she explained, gracefully clasping her pale hands in front of her. "It will not be mortal magic that breaks that spell that keeps you trapped within the steel cage like beasts."
He nearly grinned again. Well, she had him there. Not that he'd care to deny being a scoundrel, anyway. There was just too much fun in it.
But it was the rest of her words that brought Fred's smile back. "Ever think you might be underestimating us mortals? If 'mortal' magic made it, then mortal magic can unmake, too. We'll just have to get a bit creative, and that's one of my specialties."
"For thousands of years, I have watched the mortal world," the faerie said calmly, her tone clipped. "I do not underestimate humans. I know their - your - limitations." She reached forward, gently lifting his chin so that his gaze met her archaic emerald-green one. Her touch itself felt like fire, not that of the scorching discomfort of the sun but of a steady, blazing heat that burned from within - far more dangerous and powerful. "The false city rests on the edge of both Summer and Winter - you need only ask one or the other to break the spell."
A chill shot through him, even as the extra warmth from her touch scalded him and made him want to pull away. Wasn't it usually Harry that got into situations like this? He and George, they only over got trapped by Mum and a professor now and again - never anything like this.
Getting into trouble - that was all well and good, Fred decided. But this? Facing what was possibly one of the most powerful creatures he'd ever meet? This was exhilarating, in the best and worst ways possible.
"But it would be boring if it were just that simple, wouldn't it?" he asked, smiling still.
She laughed, a low and enticing sound that would have put the most beautiful music to shame. "Nothing is ever that simple. A favor cannot be incurred without a debt."
Fred inhaled deeply. Her voice was just as beautiful as her appearance, but she was just like the Veela in one way: there was something darker beneath the surface. Sure, he loved a pretty woman as much as any other young man. He wasn't blind. But he wasn't stupid, either.
He weighed his options carefully in those moments. Either he could walk away from the faerie and return to Chicago to fight the witch with everyone else, or he could try negotiating a price for their freedom. It felt like his blood was boiling in his veins, and it wasn't from the jungle's heat. Fred wanted to fight. It wasn't right, them bringing everyone to a fake Chicago and using them like this. He wanted to show them that they picked the wrong wizard to kidnap.
But just the same, he knew there were some trapped there that couldn't fight. Even as sporadic as his magic was getting, there were others that were still relatively helpless. It wasn't fair to them to force them into a situation where they would just be vulnerable. They should, at least, have the choice to leave.
"And what," Fred asked quietly, "would be mine, if I asked you to do that?"
"Your debt would be weighed against another's," came the reply. "Summer and Winter are at the brink of war thanks to the meddling of the human sorceress - the outcome of that battle will put the price on your request." She looked down at him, and the heavy cloak of the greenery seemed to press further in, as if eagerly awaiting for his answer. "It would seem that you must weigh the chance of personal loss against the destruction of all."
The words were neither condescending nor encouraging - simple truths slipped from her lips, and she waited patiently for his answer, face unreadable.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Everything kept coming back to that witch, didn't it? She must be the You-Know-Who of this world. "Let me see if I understand this correctly. My debt, for asking you to help everyone out of this mess, would be decided by some war of yours? That's reassuring. I don't reckon you could even give me an idea of what to expect?"
The faerie's words struck home, however. Fred knew they were true, after all he'd heard about the witch. The choice was a simple one, easy, though he couldn't say it didn't still leave him on edge. Going into something like this without knowing all the details wasn't smart in the least, and he knew it.
"As great a party as 'destruction of all' sounds, I just don't think it's my cup of tea. Personal loss, on the other hand, is nothing," he told her with a grin, voice holding every bit of confidence he could muster. Thoughts raced inside his head, memories of George and the Burrow and Hogwarts lending strength to his decision. Mum wouldn't like it, he knew, but she would understand. He was doing the right thing.
Her smile was ghostly. "We all owe our own favors." She held out her hand, the gesture of an unfailing promise. "As the Queen of Summer, I am bound by my word. I will unmake the magic that ensnares you and your allies. If you live through the battle and the debt is still owed, only at that time will I request the payment."
"Alright, then. It's a deal." He took her hand, shook it once, and let go again, never once dropping his smile. "And don't worry about me. I could live through anything. A little battle against a dark witch will be a piece of cake."
Time: Afternoon
Location: the lands of Summer
Content: An attempt to find a way home went wrong, but delivered Fred into the hands of someone who could fix it all... for a price.
Warnings: None
It was impossibly sultry where he landed. Vegetation that was thicker and more cloying than even the densest part of the Amazonian jungles sprouted from all around him - vines as thick as tree trunks, strange flora that spawned as large as umbrellas in a motley of chaotic blues and reds and oranges, and dark green moss so thick underfoot it might as well have passed as carpet.
The air was heavy enough to make a person begin to sweat within seconds of arriving in the silent green haze - and the quiet itself was unsettling. Despite the wild growth of plants everywhere, the jungle itself lacked another sort of life, the life of animals and insects peering from beneath draping branches or scuttling along the wet bark of the gargantuan trees.
It was a place brimming with life and almost desolate without it.
The heat and humidity hit him like a brick wall. It was a startling change from the weather in Chicago. Fred wasn't sure he'd ever sweated this much before, or this quickly, for that matter - and that included the trip to Egypt. But then, Egypt wasn't a jungle, and the humidity could hardly compare. He stared at the place in wonder, taking in the mismatched color palette and unbelievable size of everything around him.
The first thought to cross his mind was that it was too bad George wasn't here with him. He would have loved it here, possibly even more than Fred himself did. It was simply impossible not to appreciate it. For all that it was lacking in animal life - no chirping from brightly colored birds? In a jungle? Maybe that wasn't how things went here, but it still defied his expectations - it was still quite clear that this place was alive. And if there was anything Fred loved more than George or the rest of the Weasleys, it was life.
His second thought was that this situation was very odd. He’d been trying to Apparate back to Diagon Alley, fully expecting to fail once more. But instead, he’d shown up here. Where even was "here," anyway? It was impossible to tell. Fred had never heard of a jungle quite like this one before, and with all that had been happening in Chicago, it was terribly clear that it was connected with magic. It still wasn't his kind of magic, exactly, but there it was nonetheless.
It occurred to him that he should probably try to go back.
Of course, he dismissed that thought just as quickly as it had formed. Fred Weasley did not run away from a jungle, no matter how strange it seemed. He was a Gryffindor! Besides, it was a rather nice looking place, all things considered, and he wanted to see more of it. And if George were here, they'd definitely have gone exploring. It was simply too great an opportunity to pass up.
So, wearing an expression of excitement and childish glee, Fred set off, without any idea of what he was to find.
The going would have been tough - the brush was so thick and without a heavy machete to clear the path, vines and gargantuan leaves blocked much of the way.
It was only after a few moments that it seemed the branches started to untangle themselves and the flowers suddenly burst into rich and overwhelming fragrance, bowing their bright heads almost respectfully. Motes of golden dust alighted on the near-black bark of the trees and the lush moss below and on Fred's hair, tingling with a strange magical warmth.
"Too often in such a short time have you mortals trespassed on the grounds of Summer," an enchanting voice murmured, and with those few words, the green haze parted slowly to reveal a tall, inhumanly beautiful woman standing only a few feet away from the young wizard. Her feline-like eyes were greener than the silk of her dress or the jungle around both of them, and long white-gold hair spilled over her shoulders. "What is your excuse, boy?"
He hadn't taken so much as two steps when it all changed. Even Fred couldn't deny the beauty of the spectacle, as he curiously peered at the glittering dust in the air and the flowers as they moved, and he hardly even had a second to consider why it was all happening before she appeared.
There was something... off about her, he concluded quickly as he watched her in fascination. Simply put, she was absolutely stunning. Veela couldn't compare with a woman like the one before him. But the way her eyes practically glowed, making even the vibrance of the jungle around them look dull, and the shape of them... Whoever this lady was, she wasn't human. What she was, exactly, Fred didn't know, but after all he'd learned of this Chicago's world so far, he might have an idea.
"No trespassing intended," he assured her lightly, flashing her a smile. "I was only testing something. Didn't reckon it would actually work, let alone bring me here." A shrug.
She remained very still, her face devoid of anything resembling human emotion. Despite the warmth and vitality that surrounded them both, not a hint of that was reflected in her.
"You mortal wizards have an exasperating tendency to do many things 'accidentally.'" Her eyes narrowed. "What world do you hail from? You are not from the realm of the others."
"Comes with the territory, I expect. We can't all be perfect all of the time, right?"
Bloody weird, talking to someone like this. And the tiniest bit scary, too, though Fred would never admit to it. He suddenly felt very out of place. Never had he seen someone stand so still, or be so... blank? No, that wasn't the word for it... Apathetic? Empty, maybe? Even You-Know-Who still felt things like anger and hate.
Then again, You-Know-Who may have not be a proper person, but he was still human, when you got down to it - especially after last year. This... This was one of the Fae. He could hardly expect them to act human.
Didn't make it any less weird.
"I'm from London. The one having problems with You-Kn-" but no, she wouldn't know, would she? - "er, Voldemort. The wizarding world where we actually have to use wands. It really isn't fair that the ones from Chicago here don't have to, you know," Fred told her confidentially. "But at least we have Quidditch. They're really missing out on that one."
Silence.
Finally, a small smile appeared on her lovely face, albeit not exceptionally warm. "You are one of those chosen mortals then in the great wizard's battle." She stepped closer to him, the long green silk of her dress brushing against distracting curves. "A number of you trespassed on the grounds of Summer many days ago and took something that belonged only on the fields of my domain, with a story similar to the one that moments ago departed from your lips."
Her eyes narrowed. "Have you come as thief as your comrades did?"
Fred blinked.
Chosen mortals? Thief?
"I... don't know much about that," he admitted, bemused. "They were probably forced into it. Heard the Postman's been doing that since the first people showed up. But me?" Fred didn't take well to being wrongly accused of stealing. His smile had faded, and he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand before looking back up at her with a frown. "I'm not a thief. They didn't send me here. I was trying to get back to George, see if I could bring anyone back to help everyone stuck in Chicago." He threw his arms up in exasperation. "I don"t even know where we are, let alone if anything of yours might happen to be worth looking at."
The anger subsided in a few moments, and Fred heaved a sigh, crossing his arms. Mild irritation still sparked in his eyes. "Really, now, if you're going to be this bad of a host, maybe I'd be better off with the crazy witch and her pet."
Amusement flickered like fire in her eyes at his outburst, but she let him finish speaking before she held up her hand in acquiescence. "A thief, perhaps not. But certainly a scoundrel." While it seemed as if she would never give off the friendliness of a usual host, the cool suspicion had almost completely vanished. She either had deemed him a non-threat or believed his story.
"They are kept in that false city by the strongest of mortal magic, young man," she explained, gracefully clasping her pale hands in front of her. "It will not be mortal magic that breaks that spell that keeps you trapped within the steel cage like beasts."
He nearly grinned again. Well, she had him there. Not that he'd care to deny being a scoundrel, anyway. There was just too much fun in it.
But it was the rest of her words that brought Fred's smile back. "Ever think you might be underestimating us mortals? If 'mortal' magic made it, then mortal magic can unmake, too. We'll just have to get a bit creative, and that's one of my specialties."
"For thousands of years, I have watched the mortal world," the faerie said calmly, her tone clipped. "I do not underestimate humans. I know their - your - limitations." She reached forward, gently lifting his chin so that his gaze met her archaic emerald-green one. Her touch itself felt like fire, not that of the scorching discomfort of the sun but of a steady, blazing heat that burned from within - far more dangerous and powerful. "The false city rests on the edge of both Summer and Winter - you need only ask one or the other to break the spell."
A chill shot through him, even as the extra warmth from her touch scalded him and made him want to pull away. Wasn't it usually Harry that got into situations like this? He and George, they only over got trapped by Mum and a professor now and again - never anything like this.
Getting into trouble - that was all well and good, Fred decided. But this? Facing what was possibly one of the most powerful creatures he'd ever meet? This was exhilarating, in the best and worst ways possible.
"But it would be boring if it were just that simple, wouldn't it?" he asked, smiling still.
She laughed, a low and enticing sound that would have put the most beautiful music to shame. "Nothing is ever that simple. A favor cannot be incurred without a debt."
Fred inhaled deeply. Her voice was just as beautiful as her appearance, but she was just like the Veela in one way: there was something darker beneath the surface. Sure, he loved a pretty woman as much as any other young man. He wasn't blind. But he wasn't stupid, either.
He weighed his options carefully in those moments. Either he could walk away from the faerie and return to Chicago to fight the witch with everyone else, or he could try negotiating a price for their freedom. It felt like his blood was boiling in his veins, and it wasn't from the jungle's heat. Fred wanted to fight. It wasn't right, them bringing everyone to a fake Chicago and using them like this. He wanted to show them that they picked the wrong wizard to kidnap.
But just the same, he knew there were some trapped there that couldn't fight. Even as sporadic as his magic was getting, there were others that were still relatively helpless. It wasn't fair to them to force them into a situation where they would just be vulnerable. They should, at least, have the choice to leave.
"And what," Fred asked quietly, "would be mine, if I asked you to do that?"
"Your debt would be weighed against another's," came the reply. "Summer and Winter are at the brink of war thanks to the meddling of the human sorceress - the outcome of that battle will put the price on your request." She looked down at him, and the heavy cloak of the greenery seemed to press further in, as if eagerly awaiting for his answer. "It would seem that you must weigh the chance of personal loss against the destruction of all."
The words were neither condescending nor encouraging - simple truths slipped from her lips, and she waited patiently for his answer, face unreadable.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Everything kept coming back to that witch, didn't it? She must be the You-Know-Who of this world. "Let me see if I understand this correctly. My debt, for asking you to help everyone out of this mess, would be decided by some war of yours? That's reassuring. I don't reckon you could even give me an idea of what to expect?"
The faerie's words struck home, however. Fred knew they were true, after all he'd heard about the witch. The choice was a simple one, easy, though he couldn't say it didn't still leave him on edge. Going into something like this without knowing all the details wasn't smart in the least, and he knew it.
"As great a party as 'destruction of all' sounds, I just don't think it's my cup of tea. Personal loss, on the other hand, is nothing," he told her with a grin, voice holding every bit of confidence he could muster. Thoughts raced inside his head, memories of George and the Burrow and Hogwarts lending strength to his decision. Mum wouldn't like it, he knew, but she would understand. He was doing the right thing.
Her smile was ghostly. "We all owe our own favors." She held out her hand, the gesture of an unfailing promise. "As the Queen of Summer, I am bound by my word. I will unmake the magic that ensnares you and your allies. If you live through the battle and the debt is still owed, only at that time will I request the payment."
"Alright, then. It's a deal." He took her hand, shook it once, and let go again, never once dropping his smile. "And don't worry about me. I could live through anything. A little battle against a dark witch will be a piece of cake."