Chapter Text
Sometimes fairy tales don’t have a lesson, warning you of some grander social faux pas, the consequences of one's actions, or explain some universal truth in a magical, metaphorical way. Sometimes they’re just stories and they’re just about love. The love an ill-fated pair have for one another, or the love of a nymph for a self-absorbed man, or even the love of queen for the most noble of knights.
The story of the Mountain Fairy - Yuri - is no different. Though, on that fateful day when he descended the Mountain in search for the Fairy Prince Viktor, he did not intend to find love. He had only wanted the Prince to return to the Mountain in hopes to fulfil his promise, that when Yuri’s wings finally began to grow strong enough, Viktor would teach him to fly.
Since then, Prince Viktor had been enchanted, by a human Prince from a kingdom far below no less and had refused to return; he even gave up his wings! Or so the rumour goes. It made no difference to Yuri the rhyme or reason for the Prince’s departure as long as he kept his promise.
First, he had to find a way to leave the mountain in secret, as young fairies were prohibited from doing so. It had something to do with weak magic, wing strength, and a slew of obstacles awaiting them. However, Yuri was never one to really listen when Yakov, King of the Mountain, gave his warnings, nor did he care. Regardless of what could possibly harm him, he had to go.
Though the young fairy should have cared as the danger was not in what was waiting, but who.
So, on that fateful day, he snuck away at dusk, before the gusty gales swirled a hurricane of snow making the already forbidden task a daunting one. With a smug grin, he questioned what nonsense his King had sprouted about the obstacles below. There had been nothing to get in his way as he traveled down the winding path by foot.
He soon regretted his thoughts as the soles of his ghostly, pale feet touched the pebbles and dirt at the very end of the road. It hurt. A lot. And why was the ground so warm? Taking one step than another, in hopes to quench the pain, Yuri found that it only made it worse. With how much snow he’d always imagined the world below was just as soft and white. It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He needed Prince Viktor to make good on his promise from all those years ago. Yuri needed to learn how to fly or he’d never truly be a fairy.
So he pressed on.
As he followed the path he found himself in awe of the colours, smells, and the warmth that hugged him at every turn. He’d never seen any of this before. He had only ever heard stories of the world below. The Fairy had always assumed that the grassy, green plains and rolling hills, the sweltering deserts, and the glimmering Ice Castle that laid on the other side of the the damp forest weren’t that different from his world of snow. There was an Ice Castle after all. This world, however was so drastically distinct from the Mountain, so much more interesting.
Maybe, just maybe, he could see why Prince Viktor didn’t want to return.
He almost found himself skipping along the dirt path now, as his feet had begun to become familiar with the grooves of the pebbles. His head looking up, admiring the big, lusciously green trees around him as they laid entangled around each other to surround him like a canopy as he travelled. Catching the rays of the sun as they peeked through the gaps in the thicket leaves Yuri’s cheeks to turn a rosy pink.
In the midst of his euphoria he had not realized how the dry path began to sink beneath his feet or how the air became thick and sticky, making his wings cling to one another like they were drenched. Nor had he taken notice of what lurked around the thin trees and slimy vines. They had noticed him as he disturbed their peaceful slumber with his heavy foot falls. Large, yellow eyes followed the now twirling fairy as he came up close to the jungle trees to reach out for a stoic parrot sitting on a low branch.
The young fairy was absolutely gorgeous, most fairies were, but this one was particularly something special. All long limbs, white skin, blond hair, and thick lashes fluttering before deep green eyes. They doubted the fairy knew just how delicious it looked. With a lick of their sandpaper tongues across the speckled fur around their mouth and the gentle swish of their tails, the cats slowly climbed down from the trees where they perched on the highest branches for their mid-day nap.
Yuri jumped and hand snapped from where it fingered the wings of the rainbow bird when his pointed caught the sound of claws against the moistened bark. His green eyes widened in fear as these massive cats slowly, slinked to surround him. Their impossibly large cat eyes do not blink just stare with a hunger that chills Yuri down to his bones.
His heart began to wildly pound against his chest. Is this what Yakov was trying to warn him about? Damn! Why hadn’t he listened? He watched, fearfully, as they watched him. The cats were beginning to take steps closer, forming a tight encirclement around him. They were going to devour him, weren’t they? He was going to die, before he even learned to fly no less.
Fly...it was a long shot but the fairy could try. He just needed to get out of their arm span for just a moment, that would give him enough space to run. But run where? Glancing back at the way he came there was only that thick, canopy of trees, the Mountain far out of sight. Glancing head, there were that same thicket of never ending trees. However, amongst them was a grand structure made of what Yuri could only presume was ice with that way that it glimmered. But it was still so far away. Yuri tried to remember what Prince Viktor used to tell him, something about always looking forward. Why was it that whenever you needed advice you could never remember it?
Taking a deep breath, Yuri trusted in those ambiguous words as he attempted to flap his transparent wings with all his might they would not budge. Not an inch. They felt like lead instead of the thinnest of ice they were supposed to be. His muscles ached as he tried over and over to no avail.
A set of claws swished through the air as they swiped at him. Then another set. And another, this time the sharp bone dragging through the skin on his arm drawing a stomach curdling scream and deep, red droplets of blood. Gripping his arm with his other hand, Yuri sank to his knees on the jungle floor.
Another swipe of claws shreds the shimmering blue garment worn particularly by the mountain fairies. Then another pushes him into the mud, their paw holding him still as their muzzle comes dangerously close to his face. Yuri can just about count all their teeth when the skin pulls back in a wicked looking smile.
Damn wings. Damn Viktor. He was going to die and it was all their fault. He flinched as sharp teeth grazed at the skin on his neck, he couldn’t watch!
Then all of a sudden he felt a dead weight on his chest and an unfamiliar, sticky warmth covering his face. Loud whimpering cries surrounded him along with the hurried steps of running animals. Daring to open his eyes just a peek, the fairy saw the large cat covering his body. It’s eyes vacant as blood pours from their slack-jawed mouth and over it’s teeth.
It’s dead? How? Had someone come to save him? Could Viktor have found him ?
“Are you alright?” A voice that was distinctly not Viktor’s called to him. Shoving the bloody carcass of the animal off of him, Yuri sat up to come face to face with whoever it was.
If the fairy had words, they died on his tongue as he stared with astonishment at the man before him. His saviour was extraordinarily handsome with his sharp, brown eyes and coal, black armor clinging to broad shoulders with a sword hanging loosely at his side. A gloved hand extended with hopes that Yuri will take it. And Yuri wanted to, but…
“Overwhelmed?” The man chuckled. “Not surprising, you’re far from home, aren’t you Fairy?”
Yuri nodded. “I’m looking for someone. The Fairy Prince Viktor. Have you heard of him?”
The Hero’s thick eyebrows rose into his mop of hair, before falling back down and drawing that gasp into a scowl. “What business do you have with him?”
“He was to teach me how to fly,” Yuri explained, his face lighting up with hope. Maybe this man will take him to Viktor. “Will you take me to him?”
“The Fairy Prince Viktor is dead. It is better if you return to your mountain at once, Fairy,” the man said, harshly.
Dead?! How?! No! That’s not possible, Yuri refused to believe that this journey was for not. Especially after almost being eaten by those enormous cats. No. He was going to find Viktor and this man was going to help him.
“No,” Yuri spat as climbed onto his feet and stared into those lovely brown eyes. “I will not return until I find him!”
The man stared back, unwavering. Then with a deep, resigned sigh and the handwork that could have only been that of a knight, the hero drew his sword and Yuri’s world went black.
“Oh, Yuri, are you alright?” Mila fluttered around him with her eyes glassy as he awoke, in a bed? Bolting upright his eyes soaked in his surroundings. This was his room, but how did he get here? He looked down at himself. He was no longer in torn clothes or drenched in blood but his head felt like it was split like a boulder. “You got hit with the blunt of that sword pretty hard, though, the claw marks are shallow.”
Yuri nodded as he ran a finger over the bandage covering his arm. It was only then did he notice another one covering his hand, brushing his other fingers against it stung like lightning. Whatever laid underneath would not be something he worried about now.
Somewhere deep inside he had an inkling that his safe return was of the help of that Hero. That brave and handsome hero. His hero. A smile pushed its way into the cheeks of the Fairy, it made him blush and almost want to giggle.
“Oh I see, that man that brought you back made quite the impression on you, eh?” Mila smirked.
“Shut up, Hag!” He cried, sliding back down between his warm sheets and covering his face. He refused to let Mila see how humiliated he was. He was just one man, even if he was kind and brave. He may have brought him home, but he was no one. He would be no one as their paths would never cross again. Even if Yuri hoped they would.
Mila’s boisterous laugh could be heard all the way to the other side of the Mountain. Where the King, Yakov, sat on his throne with thought lines crinkling his face and a scowl on his lips.
When Yuri was returned home several days ago he was in a fit of rage and a bout of relief. Thrilled that the young one had not been harmed, but thoroughly distraught with Yuri leaving in the first place, and secondly, of the human who had brought the boy home.
“Thank you, for bringing him home,” Lilia, his Queen, had said with a warmth Yakov was certain he’d never heard before as she took Yuri out of the Hero’s cradled hold. “What is your name, sir?”
“Otabek, a Knight of the Ice Castle Hasetsu, my lady,” He says, dropping to one knee in respect. “I am certain Prince Viktor would not have wanted to see harm come to this young fairy.”
Yakov scoffed. “Viktor was horribly fond of Yuri while he was here. Promised him all sorts of trivial things.”
“Yuri…” Otabek smiled to himself. “Yes, that sounds like something our Prince would do.”
“Now, in return, Knight of Hasetsu, how can we reward you for your chivalry,” Yakov asks with suspicion.
“The legend goes that when you capture a fairy you get one wish, is that true?” The Knight inquires to the The Mountain King.
Harsh eyes narrow at the Hero. “Yes,” he answers, gruffly. “And what is your wish?”
The Knight smiles with fondness as he looks down at the gentle, sleeping features of the beautiful fairy resting in The Mountain Queen’s arms. “I’d like to make the Fairy, Yuri, mine someday.”
Both Yakov and Lilia share a look before looking down at the young fairy. Barely old enough to fly he was asked to be promised off to some knight. A knight of former Prince Viktor... Young Yuri would be taken care at the very least, Viktor would see to that unless this knight was lying. Though, that seemed like a very unlikely scenario as so few knew of Prince Viktor’s certain endeavours.
“Very well,” Yakov said. With a wave of his hands a swirl of snow rose from the ground as the air sparked hues of blues and yellows leaving Otabek in awe. It was fairy magic at work, powerful at that, as it conjured a binding to both him and young Yuri. Sparks burned away at his right, gloved hand searing a painful mark into the flesh. Yuri didn’t stir as the sparks burned the same insignia into his flesh as well.
“You will come for him in five years,” Yakov declared. “And no sooner. He is still young and has much to learn before he joins you.”
“Very well. I will be back in five years,” Otabek says, firmly, extending his hand in a friendly shake. His own confirmation of the binding of their words.
And so, the Hero Otabek travelled back down the mountain he felt determined. Five years before he had see those beautiful, piercing eyes again. It felt like a lifetime but he will wait and was certain that it will be worth it.