A Fairy Tale

Dressed in his finest, Tristan sat at the table eating the breakfast his mother had prepared for him. Excited at the prospect of attending his first Fairy Fair, he would have left without eating breakfast, had his mother not insisted he eat it. “The fair will wait,” she had told him. “You need to eat first.” She still treated him like a child, even though he had come of age the year before; and with his father dead, he was the man of the family.

So, he sat eating, while all he could think about was the fair. The hole in the wall to Fairyland only opened up once every nine years, and for that one day creatures from Fairyland held a fair in the meadow on the other side of the wall. Only a child of nine the last time the fair had been held, he hadn’t been allowed to attend. He could only look through the gap in the wall at all the wonders on the other side.

“I don’t want you to go to the fair,” his mother said.

“Why not?” asked Tristan.

“It’s too dangerous for a boy your age,” said his mother. “If you must go to the fair, wait for the next one.”

“That’s not for another nine years, Mother. How can you ask me to wait? I’ve waited nine years as it is for this fair.”

“When I was a girl – before I met your father – I loved a boy.” She hesitated, then she continued. “I’ve never told anyone this, but we were to be married; but first, the fair came; and like you, he had to go. He never came back. I’ve heard tales of other boys that never returned from their visit to the fair.”

“Mother…I’m not a child. I know to be careful: never wonder off into Fairyland outside of the fairgrounds; pay for anything you get; never accept a gift. I’ve heard it all.”

“And avoid all fairies,” said his mother.

“But no one even remembers seeing a fairy,” he said. “Many people don’t even believe they exist. I’ve heard tales of elves, trolls, goblins, and other creatures, but no one has seen a fairy. No one knows what a fairy looks like.”

“Why do they call it Fairyland, then,” his mother asked. “Why is it the Fairy Fair, the Fairy Market, if fairies don’t exist?”

“How should I know?” said Tristan. “I’ve never been to the fair. You wouldn’t let me go the last time the fair was held. Other boys my age at the time went; but you wouldn’t let me go. Well, I’m not a child any longer; so I’m going to the fair. And I hope I do see a fairy.”

-

He was so like his father, she thought, not like the man he thought was his father, but like the boy she’d loved, the one that hadn’t returned from the fair. Tristan was his child, not the son of the man she’d married, the one everyone – including Tristan – thought was his father. Tristan had been growing inside her when he’d disappeared. She had married not for love; but so that Tristan would have a father.

“I wish you wouldn’t go,” said his mother, as he stood at the door. “At least, let me go with you.”

“I’m too old to have my mother trailing along to look after me,” said Tristan. “What would people think?” She didn’t even like that the fair was held. How many times had he heard her speak out against the fair? It had been too many times for him to count, anyway.

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “I can look after myself.” Even if you don’t think I can, he added to himself.

With the coins he’d saved wrapped up in a handkerchief in his pocket, Tristan walked through the market, looking for one thing in particular, a love potion or a magical charm that would make Alice Forrester fall in love with him. She was the most beautiful girl in the village; but she didn’t seem to know he existed.

Oh, she spoke to him when she came into Mr. Wednesday’s store where he worked; she even smiled at him; but he knew she would never marry a store clerk; and that’s all he was ever likely to be. A girl as beautiful as Alice Forrester was could have anyone she wanted.

Creatures, elves, cat women, witches, trolls, even a satyr, sold their wares at the market stalls, but none of them had a love potion or charm for sale. “Only fairies have love charms for sale,” an elf told him. But when he asked where he could find a fairy, the elf said, “If you’re the one, you’ll find her,” and would tell him no more.

It was late in the day; the fair would be closing soon; Tristan had almost given up, when he saw her, the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, one even more beautiful than was Alice Forrester. Although she looked human – except for her pointed ears, maybe – he knew she must be a fairy. No one had ever described one to him; but he knew she must be one.

She wore little, an almost transparent top through which he could see her nipples and a garment that barely covered her groin. Women In his village wore dresses down to their ankles. He felt his cock stiffen.

“Do you have a love charm for sale?” he asked, stammering.

“Perhaps,” she said. “What would you give me for it, if I did?”

Tristan dug into his pocket, pulling out the handkerchief in which he’d wrapped his money. Unfolding the handkerchief, he lay the coins down on her counter. Unlike at the other stands, hers seemed to have nothing for sale, unless she was selling the flowers she was holding. Were they somehow charmed? “Is this enough?” he asked.

“Hardly,” she said. “You’re asking for that which will make someone love you. And nothing is more valuable than is love. Money can’t buy love.”

“But that’s all I have,” said Tristan. “I’ve saved all year to buy a love charm.” Would he never win Alice Forrester? He had counted on finding a love charm at the fair.

“What would you give me?” she asked.

“Anything,” he said, “anything I have – all that I have. I would give all that I have for a charm. Do you have one?”

But as an answer, she said, “Anything? You would give anything?”

“Yes,” said Tristan. “I would give anything.”

“A kiss…would you give me a kiss?”

Tristan leaned over the counter. She kissed him. It was unlike any kiss he’d ever had, unlike any kiss he had ever imagined, unlike even what he’d imagined a kiss from Alice Forrester would be like. He wanted the kiss to never end. He wanted it to last for the rest of his life. When she pulled her mouth away from his, he almost cried out, at the loss he felt.

“Come with me,” she breathed into his mouth. “Will you come with me?” He nodded, even though he’d been told never to leave the fairgrounds, even though his mother had told him to stay away from fairies. He would have gone anywhere with her. He would have done anything for what that kiss promised.

They had only taken a few steps into the forest when he realized that he could no longer hear the noise of the fair. He looked back; all that was behind him was forest. The fair was nowhere in sight.

She took off her top. “I don’t usually wear clothes,” she said. “How do you stand them? Aren’t they terribly uncomfortable? I only wore these at the fair because you humans seem to be upset by the sight of a naked body.”

“You didn’t have many on, anyway,” croaked Tristan. His cock was about to bust free from his pants; it was that hard.

“Any clothes are too many,” she said, pushing down the thin garment covering her crotch.

Naked, she said, “Do you want me?”

Tristan couldn’t speak. All he could do was nod, staring at her crotch. He’d never seen a naked woman before; he certainly had never seen one as beautiful as she was. He wanted her; more than anything in the world – more even than he wanted Alice Forrester – he wanted her.

“Will you give anything to have me?” she asked.

He nodded again.

“You have to say it,” she said. “You have to say that you’d give anything to have me.”

“I’d give anything I have for you,” he said. “I’d give everything I have for you.”

“Then, take off your clothes,” she said. “But remember what you just said.”

Tristan undressed. His cock was hard; but how could it not be? She was the most beautiful creature, human or fairy, he’d ever seen; and naked, she was about to let him have her.

At that moment, whether she had a love charm or not, made no difference. At that moment, all that mattered was what she had between her legs and that he could stick his cock into it. He’d forgotten Alice Forrester. For that moment, she no longer existed; his mother no longer existed; the world outside Fairyland no longer existed. Everything that mattered was there, in that glade, in those woods – between her legs.

“Are these your stones?” she asked, lifting them. “Is this where your seed resides?”

Tristan nodded. He felt ready to explode. He was surprised he hadn’t come at her touch; but it was as if he could only come inside her. His seed wouldn’t waste itself on the ground. It wanted her as much as he did.

“Would you give them to have me?” she asked. “Would you give even these stones to have me?”

Tristan nodded. Of course, he didn’t really think she wanted his stones. What could she do with them?

“Say it,” she said.

“I would give my stones to have you,” he said. And he meant it at the time.

Then, come,” she said, beckoning to him, her arms held out to him.

His cock slid into her. It was everything he had thought it would be; it was more than anything he could have imagined it to be. The air filled with the fragrance of flowers as they sprang up in the glade around them.

Then, he came.

The world seemed to wink out of existence. He no longer existed. Only the orgasm existed. He was the orgasm, the seed shooting from his cock, surging into her, each one racing against the other, to see which one would first reach the egg that waited inside her womb. For that’s all that mattered: that one of his seed reached that egg; that it was fertilized; that another fairy was born. It was as if the whole world – the Fairy world, anyway – depended upon it. And maybe it did.

One of them did reach the egg and was accepted into it. She knew it; and so did he. Then…the world did wink out of existence for him. He rolled over onto his back and slept.

She looked down at him, asleep amidst the flowers. He had accomplished what he was meant to do. She carried his child, a girl of course. All fairies were female and had to seek out a human male to mate with. He was her first and would be her only mate; a fairy only mated once in her life. He would be her only lover; and this would be her only child.

This mating would cost her life. Once the child was born, she would die. The forest, the creatures in the forest, would care for the child; but she would live on in it. It would have her memories and the memories of all her ancestors, going back to the beginning of the world.

Yes…the mating had cost her; but it had cost him, too. She would be the only mate he would ever have.

The sun, shining through the leaves of the trees, woke him the next morning. How would he get home? He wondered. The fair only lasted until sundown. The wall wouldn’t open for another nine years. Had it all been a dream? But it had seemed so real. It must have been real. Why else would he be lying, naked in the woods?

He felt different. Then he realized what it was. He always awoke with a hard cock; but today he hadn’t. Looking down at it, he realized that something else was different.

His stones were gone. They hadn’t just retreated into his body; he would have known; they were gone. The sac holding them was empty. He remembered what she’d said, “Would you give your stones to have me?”

And, he’d said, “Yes.”

But he hadn’t meant it; Oh, maybe he’d meant it at the time; maybe then, he would have given them up to have her; but not now, not now in, the light of day.

He stood up, pulling his cock aside to better examine his nut sac. There was no mark upon it. She hadn’t cut him open to take them, not like a farmer would his livestock. Still, he was castrated. There was no other word for it. He no longer had stones. His sac was as empty as it would have been had they been cut out.

Feeling the charm around his neck, he touched it. If it were a love charm, what good would it do him now? He couldn’t use it to make Alice love him: not now that he no longer had stones; not now that he was no longer a man. Even if it would work, he couldn’t do that: not to Alice; not to any woman.

Leaving the charm around his neck, he dressed. Tristan had no idea which way to go, once he had, but he stepped into the woods. He heard the noise of the market. He took another step, and he was at the market. The fair was in full swing. Fairyland creatures hawked their wares as humans walked from stall to stall.

It was strange though that he recognized none of them. He knew everyone that lived in his village. Certainly, visitors from other towns would be at the fair, but he should have seen someone he knew; but he didn’t, not one.

Well, he’d find her, the fairy who had taken his stones. He’d give her back the charm and make her give him back his stones.

But, where her stall had been, a troll now sold pottery. “Where’s the fairy?” Tristan asked.

“What fairy?” the troll said.

“The fairy that had this stall,” said Tristan.

“I’m the only one that’s had this stall,” the troll said. “There is no fairy at this year’s fair.”

“Yes, there is,” said Tristan. “I saw her. She…” He hesitated, not wanting to tell even a troll that he no longer had stones.

“Oh…” said the troll. “Sorry, Boy, she’s not here this year. That fairy will never be back here.”

But that’s all the troll would tell him.

And the troll had been telling him the truth. The fairy wasn’t at the fair that year. Three fairs had come and gone during that one night he’d been gone. This was the fourth, thirty-six years after he’d left. He didn’t recognize anyone; nor did anyone recognize him. His mother, he learned, had been long dead. Alice Forester was a grandmother. Mr. Wednesday was dead, and his store had passed on to another apprentice, one he’d hired after Tristan had disappeared. The boys he’d known were old men now; yet he had aged but a day.

Tristan left, moving to a nearby village. It was easier living among real strangers than among people he’d known, who were now strangers to him, people, who no longer remembered him. He’d tried telling people who he was, but they had only stared back at him blankly, shaking their heads, saying that they didn’t remember him. Some remembered his mother, but none remembered that she’d ever had a son.

He kept the charm. Rather than a love charm, it turned out to be a luck charm. He succeeded at everything he tried, soon becoming wealthy. He married even, after telling the girl he no longer had stones. She was the only one he would ever tell. Of course they couldn’t have children of their own; he couldn’t even make love to her, not that way, anyway; but he loved her; and she loved him.

And there were children, children that needed someone to care for them, children that needed someone to love them. He and his wife filled their house with them. They gave them their name and gave them their love.

Every nine years, he went to the fair. He looked for the fairy; but if she was there, he didn’t see her. He didn’t see any fairies at any of the fairs; but he wouldn’t have, would he? Only boys could see fairies, only boys just come of age, boys that still had their stones, could see fairies. Isn’t that what he’d been told?

He had grown old, living now with one of the girls he’d adopted, now that his wife was dead. Forty-five years had passed since he’d returned from Fairyland. He walked through the wall, passing the stalls as he had in the years past, during the other four fairs he’d attended since then, headed – as always – for the stall at the rear of the market.

What would he do, if she were there? His stones were no longer of any use to him. But there was something he had to know. Had she a child? Did a part of him live on in Fairyland? As impossible as it seemed, he had been certain that their mating had succeeded, that she had become pregnant. What was that child like?

That’s why he’d returned to the fair all these years, not to regain his stones. It had been a fair trade he supposed: his stones for the charm; his stones for the life he’d lived; his stones for the lovemaking he’d had with her. How could making love to a human woman have equaled that?

Then…he saw her.

“Hello, Father,” she said.

She was different, he saw. Whereas his fairy had hair of gold, this one had hair of silver with a single gold lock in the front.

“Are you really my daughter?” he asked.

“Yes, Father,” she said.

“And your mother…where is she?”

“She’s in here,” she said, touching a place over her heart. “When one fairy is born, her mother dies. But she’s with me. I have her memories. I remember you. I remember how you looked then, how young you looked, how beautiful you were.”

“Are you here for a boy?” Tristan asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“And will it cost him his stones?” he asked.

“Yes, Father, our mating will cost him his stones, as it will cost me my life; but a child, another fairy will be born. Fairyland will continue to exist for a while longer.”

“But, you’re too young to die,” Tristan said.

“You – of all people – should know,” she said, “that time is different in Fairyland. I’ve already lived longer than the span of many human lives. I’m a very old woman by your standards. It’s my time, time for another fairy – my daughter – to take my place.”

“But, I’ve only just found you, after looking for you all these years.”

“Oh, but I’ve been with you, Father. The charm was our connection. I’ve looked after you. Haven’t you been happy, Father? Haven’t I made you happy? I’ve tried to make you happy. I’ve always loved you, just as my mother loved you. Wasn’t it worth your stones? Wasn’t I worth your stones? Wasn’t the life you lived worth them? They’ve kept Fairyland alive awhile longer. Isn’t that worth your stones?”

“Yes,” said Tristan. “I never really begrudged your mother the loss of them; maybe at first I did, but not afterward. I was happy. I just wish I could have known you before now.”

“I couldn’t come to the fair until now,” she said. “I can only come when it’s time to find a boy.”

“Are there other fairies?” he asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

“No, Father,” she said. “I’m the only one. There is never more than one of us at a time. If you hadn’t mated with my mother, I wouldn’t exist. There would be no fairies; and there would be no Fairyland. So, you see now, Father, how important you were, how important your stones were?”

“Yes,” he said.

“It’s time for you to go,” she said. “My boy will be along soon. And you have other things to do. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Tristian.

When Tristan’s daughter – his adopted daughter – shook him the next morning to awake him, she found him cold. He had died in his sleep.