#although now im not quite sure there were ever any witches or witch hunters

[things-we-used-tc-share]

What Kind of Magic Is This?

Warnings: Drug mention (not use, just a brief discussion of hallucinogenics), Faeries.

Ship: Platonic Logicality. 

Word Count: 1623.

Plot: Patton likes to collect Dandelions for a variety of different things, he gets a visitor on his lunch break in the middle of the forest. (Faery!Logan)

The crisp spring air brings a warm breeze against Patton’s cheeks. The sound of leaves crunching under his feet amongst daisies and dandelions has him humming to himself, music playing from the headphones around his neck. He rests the basket full of uprooted dandelions on the ground and takes a moment just to breathe the air into his lungs, eyelids fluttering closed as he tilts his face up towards the sky. The tips of the tree branches allow sunlight and blue sky to be seen through their canopies, and do not resist the way the wind blows a gentle wave to their arms. Patton opens his eyes and imagines they are waving to him.

He hums along to the music as he sits down under the tree and slides his backpack off, opening it up to find his lunch. Dandelion hunting is not exactly a strenuous sport, but there’s nothing like a jam sandwich in the spring air. He rests the container on his lap and prises off the lid to take a bite out of his sandwich.

For a moment there is only the stillness of nature, the only movements are the wind and Patton’s own, and then he hears the sound of footsteps; quiet, for a moment he’s sure he’s imagining them. And then he turns his head in the direction of the noise to see a man staring at him curiously. His heart skips a beat a little at first, surprised to see anyone this deep in the woods at any given time, and offers a small smile once he relaxes. “Hello!” He offers cheerfully, still a little bit nervous.

The stranger doesn’t reply at first, as if processing the word, before he offers a smile in return “Hello,” He stands still, as though waiting for the other to continue the conversation, or maybe invite him to sit down.

Patton looks down at his sandwiches “Are you hungry?” He asks, holding up the container “It’s homemade jam, I make it myself, but it is quite sugary,” The stranger steps forward a few paces and it’s then that Patton was able to really read his expression. The poor man looks skittish and nervous, a little like a frightened deer, but offers a shy smile and moves forward to sit down cross-legged on the ground. He’s wearing a long, thin skirt that appeared to be hand-dyed, although Patton recognises the material to be cotton, he’s not so good with knowing dyes. “What’s your name?”

The stranger hesitates, bright azure eyes taking a second to study Patton “Logan,”

“That’s such a nice name I’m-”

“Don’t,” The man cuts him short, shaking his head, a look of panic in his eyes “Don’t say your name,” He repeats, a little calmer, “The trees have ears,” Patton looks at the grass beside him with a curious expression, and then back to the stranger, wordlessly offering him a sandwich. “All it takes is one slip up and suddenly you’re waking up with no recollection of your life fifty years later, having not aged a day,” Patton laughs softly at that.

“I didn’t know these were Faery woods, I’ve been coming here for so long,” He gestures to the dandelions in the basket “Easy pickings without disturbing an eco-system with over harvesting,”

“That’s…a surprisingly intelligent conclusion to reach, for a Human,” Patton swallows the bite in his mouth much too soon and chokes a little. “I suppose I should have delivered that punch line a little more efficiently,” Patton raises his eyebrows in a way that says, ‘You think?’ but in a slightly unnerved fashion. “I will not harm you, and it would be rude to do so as you offered me your hospitality so very kindly,” Patton gets the distinct feeling he shouldn’t trust that sentiment, but it’s not as though he can just run away from the…person.

“How come you look like a human?” He asks, studying the other, he looks…normal, tan skin which isn’t uncommon for this area, bright blue eyes and red lips, he doesn’t look like the stories of the Fae he’d been told as a child. He doesn’t seem all that tricky either, speaking like he’d eaten a dictionary for lunch.

“Your eyes see what they want to see, much less what we are,” The man takes a bite out of the jam sandwich “This jam is truly quite delicious,” He doesn’t swallow at first, moving his mouth as if pressing the bite he’d taken against his tongue, savouring the texture. “Most people go their entire lives without ever seeing us as anything less than mildly odd humans, others see us the first time, and others take many years of exposure before they view our vessels for what they are,”

“How come some people see you first time?”

“Hallucinogenics,” the words is so blunt that Patton snorts a little, “Mind altering states of consciousness rewire how your brain sees things, what you want to see is the truth, and the truth is what you get, to some extent, the buildings are not moving and people’s faces aren’t warping, but Faeries are Faeries,” Patton nods in understanding, and continues eating his sandwich, it somewhat makes sense, but he’s not well known for his ability to compute things on a scientific or logical level, so he takes it at that and leaves it.

“Do you meet a lot of drug addled humans high on psychoactive substances then?” He starts to relax a little, a joking edge to his tone. Logan seems to recognise this and visibly relaxes, his back slumping a little, and a small smile on his lips.

“These woods are hotspots for such people, it’s an escape or get away from the pressures of modern society, truth be told they tend to be not all that startled upon meeting Faeries, practically assuming us to be hallucinations, but they do have some interesting conversations and that I admire above all else,” Logan’s lips tilt in a grin as he nods as though recalling one such conversation “I learn more about humanity from passers-by than I think I could from wandering into a city, something I have no desire to do, because when given the chance and time, Humans are naturally very open and love to discuss the traumas of their lives, and of course happy moments too,” He shrugs, a small movement and very quick “I think the best conversation I ever had was with a young witch, she was to be married in a couple of days and was not at all happy about it, she’d been worried about having to hide her powers from her betrothed husband and although he was a gentle man, she did not love him,” Patton listens intently “It was strange for me to listen, marriage is supposed to be a happy affair, a union of two, although I’ve never understood the obsession with couples, yet she was miserable, I was astounded that humans force two people to be together in a ceremony that is dedicated to love,”

“What did you do?”

“I killed her father,” Patton chokes on the air and the bluntness of the words and the calm expression on Logan’s face “Well, sort of, she wished he died, and he did, because that was what she wanted, with no-one in place to control her or her family, the marriage did not go ahead and she got to play it off as too being stricken with grief,” Logan sighs, “I don’t like killing people, it’s messing with fates that are beyond even us, of course not all Faeries feel the same, but if someone asks a wish of me it has to be granted,”

“But she was a witch, could she not have…done it herself?”

“Witches have a variety of different powers, some deadly, but unlike Faeries witches are mostly human, which means they are more so subject to karma than we are, and if what goes around comes around…”

“It could have killed her too,”

“Exactly, Faeries don’t really get handed karma, because we made the world what it is, we wrote the DNA of the Earth, we basically made karma, but I still don’t make a habit of playing games with it, destiny has a funny way of putting a knife in your back,” A silence follows, and Patton takes a deep breath in; he almost feels his ribcage rattle. “Darker Faeries, Night Faeries if you will, tend to live short lives and live off of carnage, we’re all creatures of day and night and one cannot survive without the other, but sometimes I do wonder how different life would be without hunters and many-eyed fiends,” Patton wonders as such quite often too, just this morning the news had reported hundreds of deaths, and he has a habit of questioning whether life could be better if the balance was tipped instead of restored. “But it’s best not to dwell on such things, this cannot be changed and it’s...illogical to hope for the impossible, it will only hurt you,” Logan takes the last bite of his sandwich and looked towards the sun “I’m going to be late, you should head on home now, thank you for the conversation, little human,”

Patton does not find the term patronising, and finds instead his heart flutters in his chest “If I want to find you again, how do I do so?”

“Just stray from the path and stand in a clearing, I will find you,” Logan stands and plucks a flower from the inside of his sleeve, he hands it to Patton “And bring this with you,” He smiles, and Patton takes the flower. “It will not die, as long as I’m alive,”

“Thank you,”

He stands too, and gathers his belongings, looking back over his shoulder towards the Faery as he leaves, humming a soft tune that he does not know as he goes.

--

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