Marinette used to love parties. Some of her fondest memories were twirling around with her friends, giggling as the grass tickled their bare feet. She used to make their dresses too, and nothing was more satisfying as a designer than seeing her drawings fully fleshed out and looking gorgeous on her friends. Her happiness had always caused her magic to swell, making every flower in the vicinity bloom as she passed.
Those days were no more. A girl with enough skill at lying to be mistaken for her gift had joined her class, and all of her friends had subsequently shunned her. She knew that it was normal for mortals to fall for the flowery words of the Fae, but she hadn’t believed it would work on fellow Fae until she’d seen it herself. The only other Fae that didn’t believe the lies was Felix, but he could not be counted as an ally.
He was a member of the royal family, distant though his lineage was, and he acted every bit the snob his royal blood entitled him to. She would have thought him a perfect match for Chloe, an equally bratty high-born, if it were not for the fact that Felix couldn’t seem to stand her any more than the rest of them could. For a time, Lila had also set her sights on him, only to be verbally eviscerated by him. It had been satisfying, of course, to see someone put Lila down that couldn’t be cowed by her, but that did not make him a friend.
He seemed to get some kind of joy out of tormenting her, though in a different way than Lila and her former friends. He would goad her in magic class, poking at her with his words until her magic escaped its carefully constructed cage, causing unpredictable results. He always looked so satisfied afterwards, even daring to smirk when she was chastised yet again by Bustier for going outside of the assignment parameters. At least outside of that, he left her well enough alone.
Those situations led her to the current one, where she lurked on the outskirts of the party like a wallflower. She’d made her dress for this party, of course, and she was proud of it, the deep blue with subtle silver and gold motifs glittering like the night sky, but she didn’t want to risk it getting ruined by her former friends. Thankfully, the party was one for all the Fae in the city, so she rarely caught glimpses of them within the throngs of people.
On a whim, she plucked a glass from a nearby tray and downed the contents in one gulp, closing her eyes in satisfaction at the taste of the berry on her tongue. It was a special kind of wine, though not magical in any sense save for its astronomically high alcohol content. Normally, she would never partake in it for fear of acting foolish in front of her peers, but she found that she hardly cared anymore. She was tipsy, but still coherent enough to remember her actions.
With the courage the alcohol gave her running through her veins, she found a nearby flower vine and pulled, using her magic to separate it gently from the plant. Within seconds, she’d fashioned it into a flower crown and put it on her head. In Fae custom, any Fae with a flower crown was announcing their availability to potential partners. It helped to avoid many unfortunate circumstances, as well as allow all Fae to see who was ‘on the market,’ so to speak.
Marinette decided that she’d had enough of lounging against the wall in fear. The alcohol helped to dispel her anxiety enough for her other emotions to shine through, spite and apathy chief among them. With a few graceful steps, she joined the crowd of bodies on the soft grass, allowing her body to move fluidly with the others.
She received a surprising (to her) amount of attention from Fae of all genders, making her preen inwardly. She kept a mental list of those who had shown interest, in case she wished to find them again, continuing to dance, feeling her magic as a buzz in her veins. She tipped her head backwards, closing her eyes, enjoying the feel of the crowd, when a tug on her arm pulled her from her reverie.
She opened her eyes and looked to see Felix, who looked absolutely furious. He looked unfairly handsome in his party clothes and some part of her brain noted that he did not have a flower crown on his tousled blond hair. That was odd, she was unaware that he had found someone. Idly, she wondered who they were.
