The Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower (or #DFQWBS)
Her hands trembled, as she sat gazing at her reflection in the mirror.
Her make-up being applied by the Nymph Arethusa, who painstakingly worked to achieve the right balance, for she had never ‘worked’ on a Dark Fairy Queen before. What if the eye liner was too heavy, the mascara clogged, the lipstick too deep or too pale, her cheeks not presenting the glow of the blushing bride, would she be cast off into the land of Lipps?
She need not have been concerned, for the result was truly magical, Anna looked breathtaking. She turned her head to the left, then right, admiring, she liked what she saw and graciously smiled to Arethusa, who nervously curtsied in return.
The time for dressing, Anna walked into her room unzipping the protective cover of the gown that she would don. Her bridesmaids, giggled and rose from their chairs to accompany their Queen.
Arms raised to the heavens the gown was carefully placed, as to not spoil her ‘do’. Lowered, the many satin buttons that cascaded like a waterfall down her back were slowly fastened.
Veil and head piece placed, white satin shoes, something old, something new, she held her bouquet of Freesias, Heather Flower and Queen Anne’s Lace. She was ready to be wed.
She knew within the hour she would have the man of her dreams, her King.
Her ‘chariot’ arrived, the bridesmaids quickly gathered her train and helped her to be seated, her legs were jittery and the white lace hanky, given to her by her mother was tightly being wound around her fingers, continuously. Her ‘girls’ who sat opposite, felt their Queen’s nervous energy and promptly opened the bottle of pre-mixed Fairy Belle Cocktail.
Laughter soon enveloped the carriage, their Queen was now relaxed.
Anna alighted from the chariot with alacrity, albeit slightly giddy from the consumption of too many Fairy Belle’s.
She paused, breathed deeply, regained her composure and entered.
Her parents looked in awe upon their ‘little’ girl, whom they adored, she had grown into a bewitching young woman, their baby, their Anna. Her father linked her arm and with glistened tears he whispered “I love you Anna, how beautiful you look”.
To her King, towards the man of her dreams, she walked, steadied by her fathers gentle arm.
Fairy dust sprinkled from above, anointing her, it glowed and sparkled as it fell upon her skin. The Fairies were blessing this union, this was a sign.
The stars in her eyes blended with moist tears, as she grew closer. Michael’s hands nervously wringing together, she gave him a reassuring smile.
“Who gives this woman?”
“I do”, her father hesitantly replied.
Anna slowly let go of her fathers arm, the man that she had loved for ever, the man that encouraged and taught her right from wrong, he gently smiled as he felt her arm release. She kissed his cheek and whispered “I love you Dad, I will always be your little girl”, then she reached for Michael’s hand.
They said I do and exchanged rings, they tenderly kissed and held each other tight giggling “I love you – I love you more”.
Michael swooped Anna in his arms, kissing her ear, he carried her towards the Reception area in the Courtyard, the relief from months of planning was almost at an end.
The speeches were made, the toasts given, the glasses clinked, the food served and heartily consumed.
Let the PARTY begin!
The Goblin and Elf band began to play.
From the forest, the fairies tip-toed in, the congealed blood trickling from the corners of their mouths.
Anna looked… her invitations were accepted, she cast a smile and a wink in their direction, showing how pleased she was at their arrival.
POW – Fireworks lit up the darkened sky, radiant bursts of gold, red and green, showered the starry night.
The Queen and her King walked majestically to the centre of the dance floor. Their spirits high, their smiles engaging.
“DANCE” Anna and Michael laughed and commanded.
Dance they did, the fairies, the wizards, goblins and elves, all linked arms pointed toes and bowed.
Towards the woods, in the distance, Anna saw the burst of flames and smiled at their ride home.
Author – Jenny Tacken
eBook – Yes
To Anna and Michael – An Irish Toast – Here’s to the wings of love, may they never molt a feather, till your little shoes and his big boots are under the bed together.