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Authors: Kailin Gow
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most ancient and powerful, and that the ways of the Summer Court were but a
recent innovation on the part of more “modern” fairies).
I
will not deny that it was difficult growing up with such a mother. In your
world, I imagine, one would be scandalized to think that one's mother had
locked her son up in a dungeon for failing to win a fencing-match, or for
improperly reciting the dates of major battles in Feyland's history!
Indeed,
I often think back upon my childhood with a strange mix of nostalgia and faint
amusement. I cannot deny either that I am envious of the life you lived with
Raine in Oregon. Your mother, I knew – from the moment she agreed to give up
your father and leave Feyland forever – would do anything for you. She loved
you – you , Breena, not some abstract heir to the Summer Throne but
rather a real, flesh-and-blood individual, her child, her only daughter. My
mother's affection was of a wholly different kind. If she did love me, it was
as a prince first and a son second. She saw it as her royal duty to impose upon
me the kind of sharp discipline that would make me a good, strong, soldier – a
good protector of the land she loved so dearly. If she locked me in the dungeon
overnight, it was not out of lack of love for me that she did so – although
this was a hard lesson to learn at six or seven years of age – but rather
because she believed in all her inflexible firmness that it was the best way,
nay the only way, to protect me and protect Feyland. Even immortal fairies do
not last forever – if they are not killed by powerful magic, they step down
from the throne to retire when they can no longer reign as well as they once
could. If she were to be killed – it would be my duty to take over Feyland, and
I cannot deny that her harshness made me a better fighter and a better ruler
than I would have been if I had been cooed over and coddled.
But
that does not stop my mind from drifting, from time to time, to your little
home in Gregory, Oregon – so clear in my mind's eye. I imagined sometimes,
growing up, what you and your mother were doing at that moment – was she
playing a game with you? Brushing your hair? Teaching you to paint? Tucking you
in to sleep? Such simple hallmarks of a human life – and yet so alien to me.
My
mother may have been wary of yours, at first – although the friendship they
developed was, if unexpected, nevertheless a powerful one. But I never was.
From the first time I met your mother at the Summer Court – the happy, bright
woman who – despite the sadness that sometimes clouded her eyes at the mention
of the Summer King – showered you in such love and affection – I knew that she
was a truly special creature indeed. And so she must have been, if it meant
giving birth to an extraordinary being like yourself.
Was
your mother wrong to go with your father? Certainly, there are many in Feyland
who would say so. Your father was a kind and good man – but he was not the more
responsible of kings (but then again – in a world where love is so frowned
upon, was he not merely the most-human king in a world in which human
attributes are shown no hospitality?). But your mother, even more – was a brave woman! For how brave must she have been to leave behind all that she knew,
all that mattered to her – her home, her country, her land, and follow the man
she loved to strange and distant shores? No, Breena, it was not weakness that
motivated your mother so but strength – the strength to follow her heart where
it led! Your mother was willing to stand upon the shores of this brave new
world and start a new life here, with you.
And
I think even my mother knew that. Her prejudices against humans and love aside,
I remember that she always treated your mother with a respect she showed to few
fairies, let alone to mortals. Your mother had true strength, true spirit, and
even my mother was able to pick up on that. With Raine my mother was able to
speak out about
most ancient and powerful, and that the ways of the Summer Court were but a
recent innovation on the part of more “modern” fairies).
I
will not deny that it was difficult growing up with such a mother. In your
world, I imagine, one would be scandalized to think that one's mother had
locked her son up in a dungeon for failing to win a fencing-match, or for
improperly reciting the dates of major battles in Feyland's history!
Indeed,
I often think back upon my childhood with a strange mix of nostalgia and faint
amusement. I cannot deny either that I am envious of the life you lived with
Raine in Oregon. Your mother, I knew – from the moment she agreed to give up
your father and leave Feyland forever – would do anything for you. She loved
you – you , Breena, not some abstract heir to the Summer Throne but
rather a real, flesh-and-blood individual, her child, her only daughter. My
mother's affection was of a wholly different kind. If she did love me, it was
as a prince first and a son second. She saw it as her royal duty to impose upon
me the kind of sharp discipline that would make me a good, strong, soldier – a
good protector of the land she loved so dearly. If she locked me in the dungeon
overnight, it was not out of lack of love for me that she did so – although
this was a hard lesson to learn at six or seven years of age – but rather
because she believed in all her inflexible firmness that it was the best way,
nay the only way, to protect me and protect Feyland. Even immortal fairies do
not last forever – if they are not killed by powerful magic, they step down
from the throne to retire when they can no longer reign as well as they once
could. If she were to be killed – it would be my duty to take over Feyland, and
I cannot deny that her harshness made me a better fighter and a better ruler
than I would have been if I had been cooed over and coddled.
But
that does not stop my mind from drifting, from time to time, to your little
home in Gregory, Oregon – so clear in my mind's eye. I imagined sometimes,
growing up, what you and your mother were doing at that moment – was she
playing a game with you? Brushing your hair? Teaching you to paint? Tucking you
in to sleep? Such simple hallmarks of a human life – and yet so alien to me.
My
mother may have been wary of yours, at first – although the friendship they
developed was, if unexpected, nevertheless a powerful one. But I never was.
From the first time I met your mother at the Summer Court – the happy, bright
woman who – despite the sadness that sometimes clouded her eyes at the mention
of the Summer King – showered you in such love and affection – I knew that she
was a truly special creature indeed. And so she must have been, if it meant
giving birth to an extraordinary being like yourself.
Was
your mother wrong to go with your father? Certainly, there are many in Feyland
who would say so. Your father was a kind and good man – but he was not the more
responsible of kings (but then again – in a world where love is so frowned
upon, was he not merely the most-human king in a world in which human
attributes are shown no hospitality?). But your mother, even more – was a brave woman! For how brave must she have been to leave behind all that she knew,
all that mattered to her – her home, her country, her land, and follow the man
she loved to strange and distant shores? No, Breena, it was not weakness that
motivated your mother so but strength – the strength to follow her heart where
it led! Your mother was willing to stand upon the shores of this brave new
world and start a new life here, with you.
And
I think even my mother knew that. Her prejudices against humans and love aside,
I remember that she always treated your mother with a respect she showed to few
fairies, let alone to mortals. Your mother had true strength, true spirit, and
even my mother was able to pick up on that. With Raine my mother was able to
speak out about
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