Fae Courts Found and lost

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This was utterly rediculous.
How long had he been waiting? 12, no, 13 years and still nobody came back. He was beginning to think they weren't coming back.
His large pumpkin head leaned back and Curcurbita, cursed of the fae, looked up to the starry night sky in half hearted hope that he might be delivered from this most boring of positions.
*Last time I try to do a farmer a favour.* he thought to himself.
He looked about and saw the tree had gotten bigger, there was barely any farmhouse anymore and brambles had claimed the good farming land.
"I think they've forgotten about us." He told the bones of the Farmer's wife which lay next to him now all but completely obscured by the overgrowth.
Her skull didn't say anything because she was dead 13 years.
"Yes I know, be patient you keep saying that but nothing's happened yet."
There was no voice to answer him.
"Uh huh, well I DIDN'T marry him so I'm not bound to wait here forever. I told him a season at most and then all this happened."
The wind drifted over the neck high grass.
"And I'm very happy that you still love him but I have places to be."
He struggled and pulled at his bindings. It truly was the worst job he could think of. Playing scarecrow for a silly farmer and his wife while he had duties, real duties he should have been at ages ago.
His ropes gave way at last and he hopped down from the cross post that held him. Again the dead woman's bones said nothing.
"Okay I'll tell him you're still here if I see him. Goodness be."
With a gangle in his spindly legs he walked past the farmhouse heedless of the bones of the dead farmer inside.

Over the years the Falwood had claimed much of the land surrounding the farm as well as the farm itself. The large trees burst from the land and shadowed the whole area.
At last he came to it. The entrance to Grovehaven.
He trod through the streets and yards of people he didn't really care about. Even among the fae he was odd looking. Tall and lope with his massive pumpkin head, the mark of his curse. He was Aimadach, the Empty Head. Gone for 13 years now he returned to the only port he could get to before he made his way back to where he actually belonged.

But who here could help him get there?
 
As hectic as things had been over the last handful of months, what with the looming threat of a possible war with Summer, whispers of another maleficent enemy traveling from ear to ear in hushed tones, and the actions of a rouge group of humans in The Suntory Market... The last week in Grovehaven had been noticeably quiet and void of calamity.

Tharu San'Seya both appreciated and loathed the peacefulness of the city, its streets of cobbled stone and buildings of bark and root interwoven with the massive expanse of forest that covered much of Falwood itself. There was nothing more tranquil than breathing in the crisp clean air of Grovehaven, rich with life and tinged with the Ley energy that flowed out of the rivers that flowed from underneath the Castle at the city's heart.

And yet... Tharu found little solace in it all. For he knew they were merely in the calm before the storm, the prelude to an unavoidable conflict that he himself would be personally embroiled in, along with his Father, his lover, and his entire court. This was naught but a silent countdown, and the imperceptible ticking hands of time made him all the more restless.

Yet even with all of these troubles and woes swirling about in his head, and all of that weight resting upon the young Prince's shoulders... Even Tharu could not simply ignore the bizarre sight shambling down the road toward Grovehaven Castle.

The Prince had been wandering quite aimlessly, looking perhaps for any sign of discord amongst the quiet. Ahead of him he'd noticed the parting of the lesser fae walking the street, giving a berth to an odd-looking figure making its way towards him, its steps uneven, its aura foreign. No, not foreign... just different. Despite the odd appearance of the lanky, gourd-headed figure that appeared somewhat akin to a mortal farmer's creation, it did carry the scent of Spring upon it.

It was faint... but the figure was one of them indeed. Tharu was certain.

"Excuse me?"

Tharu quickly collected his thoughts and briskly moved to meet the figure halfway. The thing looked bizarre; its limbs moving unpredictably as it walked, and its clothes ragged and plain, a far cry from the minimalistic garb woven from nature that many Spring Fae wore nowadays. Was he perhaps an Ancient One? His Father had mentioned that there were some members of their court lost to time and never found.

"You seem somewhat lost, my friend. I am the Prince of The Spring Court. Perhaps I can assist you?"

Curcurbita
 
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Curcurbita jerked away as if the Prince was some unpleasant thing that had snuck upon him before relaxing into his uncomfortable looking frame.
"You are excused!"
He replied rudely. Was that rude? He'd forgotten what to say when someone excused themselves.
"Lost? You mean I'm not in Grovehaven? Dandelions and dewdrops where in the world am I then?"
He looked about marveling how much like Grovehaven this place was, it even had the same street names.
"And you."
His head snapped to focus hollow eye shapes on Tharu.
"Prince?"
He made a curt bow, lower than one might have thought a top heavy thing like him might be able for.
"Your Majesty. I am honoured at your perception. Your gaze and radiance are as the sun to a lowly plant like me. I am unworthy of such gentle attentions.
My name is Curcurbita, Amaideach. Forgive my state of uncourtly dress my Lord. I have only just regained myself from a thirteen year stint in an overgrown wheat field."

He waited then posed down and low until he got permission to rise.

Tharu San'Seya
 
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Tharu could only look dumbfoundedly down at the strange fellow declaring himself Curcurbita. Thirteen years? It wasn't a particularly significant amount of time for a Fae, but it did mean that this 'Amaideach' had been gone since before Tharu's father was in power. Where had he been? What was he to the Court?

It took him a moment before he snapped from his thoughts and shook his head. "Ah- Rise, please."

Even most of Grovehaven's lesser fae didn't go out of their way to bow to Tharu. He was far more like them than he was like The King. Being shown such reverence almost made him feel uncomfortable. Once the oddly-moving figure rose once again, Tharu attempted to make some sense of the situation.

"This is Grovehaven, I just haven't seen you before. Being you've been absent thirteen years would explain why. But... please, there is no need to show such humility towards me, Curcurbita, you must be exhausted." The Prince reached forward to place a hand upon his arm and gestured gently for him to follow as he turned to walk back towards the Castle.

"Much has changed since your departure, loyal Amaideach. King Oberon has passed, and my father Nairth San'Seya holds the throne now. I'm certain you'd like a chance to tell your story, no?"

Curcurbita
 
Curcurbita roused himself and stood like a stick planted straight in the earth.
"Alas poor Oberon. King of Fae, Fae of Kings. I knew him not, unless I did. Hard to remember anything these days!"
He rapped his thin knuckles against his gourd eliciting a hollow drum-pike sound.
"Which brings me to my story. Such as it is."
The cut smile of his face widened.
"You know I can never remember what I did but, someone very important thought it would be a fitting punishment to replace my head with this awful thing!"
Again he rapped his large noggin.
"Or was I simply placed upon the body of a criminal? Now there's a thought. Either way. I fear your Father-King would find me terrible company. I wouldn't impose on your Princely offer, certainly not in this drab!"
He lifted his torn and worn clothing, dirty and old, they had lost any sense of presentation.

Tharu San'Seya
 
Tharu couldn't hide his amusement at the stranger's odd mannerisms and humorous words. Even though he implied that he had once been considered a criminal, Curcurbita didn't seem like an unsavory type and certainly didn't exude any ill-intent.

"Quite an unusual punishment, isn't it? I do wonder if that has something to do with your departure?" The Prince wondered aloud, before shaking his head and offering an apologetic bow. "Ah, forgive me. How impolite to speculate, even." Tharu knew about the punishments of the Fae all too well, having been subject to one himself until recently, albeit somewhat unjustly so.

Still, it wouldn't do to let him wander about aimlessly like this. If somebody of his tenure had returned, it was only right that they be re-introduced to the Court! "But... I do not think my Father would mind at all! He's a very benevolent man. Well... he's trying, anyways. Regardless, we should at the very least inform him of your return! Did you have a home here, Curcurbita? Somewhere you lived?"

Curcurbita
 
"I confess your Highness that I do not know where I lived or when I lived anywhere."
He threw his hand about as if you display the magnificent city about them.
"Be.. benevolent?"
The idea was humourous.
"Heh, what a concept. A benevolent king. How it rhymes how it sings..."
Curcurbita caught her myself. Which was visibly uncomfortable for him. He shook his great head and inclined apology towards his princely host.
"Begging you pardon Highness. The curse has certain... Eccentricities associated. I cannot always contain my speech but if you good King Father is as you say, I shall be glad to meet if. If he is willing."
He bent lower as he finished speaking. Not quite a bow but an effort of supplication none the less.
 
Conversation didn't seem to be a particularly comfortable thing for Curcurbita, and Tharu couldn't claim that he blamed the strange fellow for that; After all, he'd been alone for who knows how long, and with his appearance... he doubted many approached him for casual conversation. The Prince offered him a polite smile, and let him rest his words for the time being.

Aside from the sidelong glances they received from some of the passersby, their trip to Grovehaven Castle was an uneventful one. Most of the Spring Fae were used to strangers from unknown lands passing through, as it was one of the more welcoming courts to outsiders, and more fae from the Vitae and Autumn had been coming on business lately, what with the rumors of war with Summer looming.

The Castle itself was a majestic accomplishment, crafted from the rock and roots of the earth by Nairth San'Seya when he'd taken the crown after Oberon's death. Before Nairth's rule, the Spring Fae simply lived scattered throughout the land, wherever they felt save. In building the massive structure forged from nature itself, Nairth aimed to give them a bastion of safety, a haven of life where all who followed Spring's tentets could thrive and prosper.

The massive doors slowly opened and revealed the Grand Hall behind them. The hall was immaculate, shaped and molded by magic into a mammoth chamber lined with long tables in rows of three, strewn with feast and drink. Banners bearing the mark of Spring hung high from the ceiling, woven from leaves and vine.

There was a bit of commotion at the tables, Spring Fae of all standing and rank feasted upon the food provided, a place for all in the court to enjoy themselves, so long as they abided by the rules. At the end of the Hall, two spiral staircases rose to an upper level, where bubbling hot springs underneath windows that beamed down the sunlight like spotlights lined the walls.

"Come, Curcurbita. Sit and eat, if you'd like. My father will be along shortly, I've no doubt."

Curcurbita
 
"Most kind, your Princeliness most kind!"
Curcurbita did take seat, tall as he was he was still able to look Tharu in the eye from his chair.
"I await your Kingly Father with apprehension fair and by the look of it this is fine food indeed. Yet I regret that I am dead, and cannot enjoy this most deliscious looking of spreads."
His gnarled and withers fingers spread over the display as if to present it. To his left a fairy dressed in cotton balls and bees wax lay draped limb over the rim of a glass of punch.
"Shall you wait as well My Prince, oh, of course you must have matters of state to attend. I am keeping you."
Standing in a fuster Curcurbita knocked over both the stained glass chair he was on and the glass containing the fairy. Both of which shattered loudly.
"Oh, horse feathers and goblin tears!"
He turned back and forth and back again undecided which mess he ought to clean first.

Tharu San'Seya
 
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Nairth had sensed the strange presence the moment it had entered his Castle.

The Spring Fae were all connected to one another, a web of life that tied their souls to one another in a bond that could not be severed. The King of The Spring did not merely see his brothers and sisters with his eyes; he felt them. Their hearts beat in unison, their breaths were shared. Within this precious gift of life that they'd been given, they were like petals of a flower, blossoming together as one.

As Nairth looked out upon the Great Hall, watching his family feast and drink in celebration of another day lived to the fullest, he felt something change within the Castle. A petal that did not blossom, that hung loosely by a thread, damaged and wrinkled.

It was difficult not to see who produced such a vivid image in his head. With the head of a guard, the strange fellow that his son Tharu had accompanied to dinner was immediately an outlier. An outsider? No, but also yes. From behind the silvery cascading locks that fell over his gaze from his throne his expression tightened. There was a bond there, a tie to Nairth's web of life in Curcurbita.

But it was damaged, nearly severed completely. This newcomer had been one of them, at one point.

So, what had happened?

Nairth found himself rising from his throne and descending the dias. Many eyes turned curiously to the King, watching him carefully as he strode almost casually toward where Curcurbita and Tharu had seated themselves.

"Tharu. Would you do me the pleasure of introducing me to your friend?"

Curcurbita
 
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Curcurbita yelped at the sight of the King of Spring. Bent low in prostration, gourd almost kissed marble as he did.
"Your most lush and fruitful Highness. Forgive this cur, I am as clumsy as I am foolish. Utterly unworthy in thine sight and fit only for lash and rod. At your command, I shall take to it myself!"
The mess damned him. He'd be beheaded again. Given the three deaths of axe blow, cord choke and drowning. Set alight In a cage of wicker like the animal he was.

Nairth San'Seya