If Eloise could count on anything in Faerie, it is that there would always be a dance. Whether the soft rumble of thunder rolled across the plains or the sun shone down upon the leaves, there was never a dull moment.
The Fae themselves were very content indeed, for they did not exist. The world which Eloise stepped foot in was completely made from the intricacy of her imagination, a sort of escape from the real world and its struggles. Ever since she was a little girl, Eloise had been dancing in luxurious dresses, eating lavish berries, frolicking in the green meadows, and swimming in rivers so clear that you could see the sparkling rocks at the bottom.
On this day she was, at present, eating a particularly sweet nectarine.
"Oh, my lady. Let me help you with that." A rather green Fae fluttered towards Eloise.
"No thank you, Greer. I am quite alright." Eloise responded. Greer was always trying to help with unnecessary tasks, such as picking out the seeds of her fruit. There was once a time where she had insisted upon removing all the seeds on a strawberry so that Eloise could eat it "properly". In her youth Eloise was close to Greer, the two girls barely leaving each other's sides. Yet as she grew, so did the distance between them. Their bond now nothing but a formal relationship.
"Are you quite sure?" She insisted.
"Yes, quite." Eloise paused, in thought. "Although there is one thing you could do."
Greer jumped up and down with excitement. "Oh anything. Anything. You just say the word." Her forest green hair bounced as she nodded aggressively. "Yes, you just say the word." Greer repeated.
"Well, I believe I need to have a word with Ben. Would you please be able to find him for me?" Eloise asked.
A blush crept onto her skin. "Of course!" Her voice faded as she ran out of the room.
Ben was the seamstress and, upon her call, could procure the most splendid dresses. Eloise recalled the first time she had been given clothing by him, she had swooned and nearly fainted at the silk material and lace trims.
A stout Fae with brown hair and a long beard hobbled into her sitting room. It was quite a grand place, really; the ceilings stretched upwards and revealed a mural that was painted with pure gold. Armchairs that were adorned with felt and the finest woods of the land lined the tables that were equally as lavish.
Upon one of the ground cushions was Eloise, awaiting Ben as he neared her. "Dearest Ben, come sit please." She swept her arm in a gesture for him to seat himself opposite her. He accepted the offer and sat down with a great sigh.
"Your Majesty-"
"Please, Ben. Call me Eloise."
"But Your..." A raised eyebrow from Eloise stopped him short. "Fine. You wanted to see me...Eloise?" His face turned a bright shade of red as he fought the urge of his formalities.
"There we go, much better now. Yes, I was going to ask about the new dresses that were set to be made?"
"Oh of course! I apologise, you see I had already finished them. But with the dance coming up tonight it must have slipped my mind to send them to your chambers." He had worked himself into a fit.
"It is quite alright Ben. There is no need to rush, I only wanted to see your progress. Are you pleased with how they turned out?" She asked him.
"Not to toot my own horn but I think they are splendid. Although if you were to despise the dresses I am quite sure that I will find them very unappealing myself." Ben's fingers twitched and he played nervously with the tulle on the cushions.
"You know well that all of your works are gorgeous. I have no doubt in my mind about that." She reassured him. "In fact, I don't think I have it in me to hate anything you create."
"Deary me, you do flatter me so miss. I'm afraid it will all go to my head!" He fretted.
"Oh never! You are much too humble for that Ben." She smiled at him. "Would you be free tonight at the dance?"
"Well, let me think." Ben paused and stared upwards in thought. "Yes. Yes I believe I will be. Is there somewhere else you would like me to be?"
"The opposite really. I would insist that you indulge yourself tonight. Do you think that you'd be interested in having the first dance with me?" The first dance at any revel was incredibly important. The Fae did not look simply on it, and so consequently Ben's face lit up with the utmost joy.
"I am overjoyed that you thought of me, why of course! I must get ready now. I'll have a servant send your dresses to your chambers." He made towards the door as if heading out but turned around. "I'd go with the blue dress if I were you." Eloise watched as he scurried into the hallway muttering to himself about honour and flattery.
Content at her current situation, Eloise laid back into her velvet cushion. She sighed to herself as she relished in the soft folds. How she couldn't wait for the evening to come.
***
"Daydreaming again, miss Eloise?" The sharp shrill of the teacher's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife.
She lifted her head to meet Mrs. Hodgson's beetroot face looming over her desk. Eloise rubbed her eyes groggily, "sorry. I must have fallen asleep"
"Sorry, Mrs. Hodgson." The teacher corrected her. Multiple snickers escaped from eavesdroppers before they caught themselves. "And you are correct. You fell asleep just as I was introducing the topic of World War Two. Now, I don't believe anybody else found my teachings as boring as you did."
She was wrong. Eloise looked around and noticed Mary, a small girl who was in some of her classes, had sat up straight as a rod and stifled a yawn.
"Terribly sorry." She paused. "Mrs. Hodgson."
"Well-" the bell interrupted her reply and kids streamed into the hallway. Eloise was not far behind them, eager to be gone from Hodgson's presence.
A few people had bumped into her and teased her about the class before. "Get a good night's rest, sleeping beauty?" One boy had murmured in her ear.
Exhausted with the day, she ran as fast as she could to her mother's car and jumped into the passenger seat.
"How was school sweetie?" Eloise looked over at her mother, Helen. Her hair was always a pristine shade of deep red, enhancing the green in her eyes and her beauty. Eloise had not inherited her gorgeous red curls. Instead she was left with her father's dirty brown hair that hung lifeless in frizzy, uneven waves around her back.
"You know, like any other day." Eloise replied. Helen's eyes softened and her joyous expression changed to concern.
"Again? Eloise, are you not getting enough sleep, is that what this is?" Her mother asked.
"No, no you know that's not what this is. It's different, it's-" She looked down into her lap, her fingers tracing the hem of her pants nervously. "It's not normal, it's freaky. Nobody else is like this in eleventh grade."
"Hey, stop that." Her mother grabbed her hands and forced Eloise to look at her. "You're not a freak. Do we know exactly what's going on? No. Has this been happening for a long time? Yes. We know how to manage it, it shouldn't matter if it's normal or not. We know it's not harmful. You're not harmful."
Her mother pulled her hands away and drove out of the school parking lot. Eloise flinched as she caught a glimpse of the school sign that read:
BERKELEY PRIMARY SCHOOL, ENGLAND
"I know, I know." Eloise looked out towards the cars in front of her, multiple people were honking at some unknown disturbance. The roads were banked up so thickly that it was hard to tell where the lines were. "But it's all the time. I can't stop it when it happens and I can't even tell how long I've been out for. The worst thing is about how it feels so real." What she didn't say was how she didn't hate it when she was there, how she never wanted to leave.
Helen took her eyes off the road for a split second to look over at her daughter, sympathy filled her eyes like the tears that threatened to spill at any given time. And in that moment the car behind them-
YOU ARE READING
The Gift of Dreams
Fantasy"You are the kingdom's last hope." Ever since she was a child, Eloise had found herself slipping into the familiar embrace of her fantasies rather than the truths of reality. She was no stranger to the sweet berries and wines that Faerie offered, no...
