#itywiw

[slugmanslime]

I’ll Tell You What I Want! (Ch. 1)

hey guys its late im so SO tired but i sat down and wrote this bc its been on my mind all day tell me what you think im exhausted i love you all  this is a fairytale AU, based loosely off of Rumpelstiltskin, so just bear that in mind 

EDIT: I am reposting this because I changed a crucial point of the storyline and I think it is way better now.

Pairings: Bog King/Marianne, Dawn/Sunny Warnings: Eventual Infidelity, Violence, Possible Smut, Heartbreak, Bog is a bitter Magic Hoe Word Count: 2660 Chapter: 1 / ???

The kingdom of Hearthmark was sprawling, dotted with villages, markets, valleys and meadows as far as the eye can see. For a millenium, the Fallow family had ruled Hearthmark with a gentle and knowing hand, negotiating their way out of wars and arbitrating expansive treaties that brought harmony to the kingdom, and fruitful years of trade to the markets. Heathmark’s economy flourished, the kingdom expanded, and the people thrived under King Dagda and Queen Carmen’s rule. The citizens of Heathmark lived in harmony with each other, harvesting their plentiful crops as they kept each other company year in and year out as life was plentiful and plain and happy.

Bog hated plentiful and plain and happy.

Bog King, Bog of the Black Oak, sorcerer and heir to a legend, was one of the only denizen’s of the Dark Forest encompassed the perimeter of Hearthmark that acted as a natural border between the gentle people, the supernatural, and the burdens of warm and unrest roiling in other countries. The gloomy woods were filled with fascinating but often dangerous mythical creatures that would prefer not to be disturbed, Bog being one of them. Once upon a time, Bog’s parents were seen as useful to the kingdom, and his mother Griselda, along with him and his father, lived a comfortable life in service of the crown. But those years were long gone, as was his father, taken too soon by an illness that not even Griselda the Great could cure. Bog’s mother, a powerful witch with a secretly kind heart, was his only constant company now, something that he couldn’t help but appreciate and yet he loathed, especially at times such as this.

“Bog, deary, you realize that the winter solstice is tomorrow? You really oughta check the hens, you know how they despise the cold!” Griselda’s voice grated through his thoughts, stirring him away from the shelf of ingredients he was organizing. She herself was busy  clucking around their little cottage, dusting and folding articles of light clothing away into an empty closet. She was busy preparing them for the coming winter storms, and had spent the past two weeks jarring vegetables, patching thick coats and pants, and ensuring that their chickens and goats were well prepared for the weather. Not to be left out, Bog was there to do her heavy lifting and any other menial task he could be cowed into. Heaving a great sigh, Bog gathered his coat and shrugged it on, snatching a basket from beside the doorway when a flurry of sudden knocks stopped the pair in their tracks. Bog paused and glanced over his shoulder to meet Griselda’s curious stare, before the knocking interrupted them once more, sounding increasingly urgent.

A visitor… in the Dark Forest? A visitor? Travelling through this kind of weather? These questions and more bounced around his head as he dropped the basket and opted for the enchanted staff he kept by the door for protection.

With his guard up, Bog unlatched the door, revealing the most petite, anxious, and beautiful young woman he had ever laid eyes on. Perhaps that was speaking too rashly, but then again, Bog didn't have much experience with the outside world. The young women dropped her fist to her side limply, clearly unsure of her intentions after being met with such an imposing figure. They engaged in a staring contest, challenging and questioning in the same moment. The young lady was obviously bundled against the cold but carried nothing with her but a small satchel, speaking to her confidence that she could make this trip a short one.

Removing the small cap she had donned for the trip, the visitor gazed at him with a look brimming with excitement tempered by uncertainty, causing him to quirk an unruly brow. A halo of chocolate curls framed her face in cute pixie licks, with searching hazel eyes framed in long lashes stabbing him straight through his chest with the intensity that they trained on him. The lovely stranger was dressed in finely tailored traveler’s clothes and thick boots absolutely caked with snow, speaking to her wealth and making the sorcerer even more curious about what she possibly thought to gain by making a dangerous trip out here.It was the dead of night now, and it had been snowing since dawn.

Bog swallowed thickly, forcing himself to read into a situation that he had seen one to many times. She was a lovely thing, and they were known to be skilled with magic. Why else would someone as fragile and important as herself journey to their home, unless it was with a request for their services? A scowl of disappointment colored his features and he regarded her in a manner that mirrored the chilly weather she had just traversed.

“Aye, traveller, don’ go knockin down me door now. Winter approaches swiftly. Ye must be lost, so far from the Hearth.” Tall and broad Bog leaned against his staff in the doorway, exuding contempt and trying to appear bored. His figure was lean from tending to their crops and livestock, and he towered over the petite woman shivering before him.

“Sir, please… I’m not lost, if you would tell me your name. I am Marianne Fallow… Crown Princess of Hearthmark. I come with an urgent request… please, hear me.” Having finally revealed herself, Marianne pressed her hands together against her chest breathlessly. She carried an aura with her, one of strength but innocence, as if she sought out the best in people. Her eyes were clear and bright, full of good intentions without the life experience to judge them. It nearly made Bog sick to his stomach. Before he could turn her away, his mother’s voice drifted from inside.

“Bog, who is it? Don’t just stand there, it’s cold as all get out, bring them inside!”

The already-exhausted sorcerer growled in frustration but after one last tense moment of silence, he took a step back and motion for her to enter. “Please, do come in.” Of course, while it might have been phrased nicely, the implorement was dripping with sarcasm. Marianne eyes flashed with something hot but she only warred with herself for a moment before schooling her expression into something polite and appreciative as she crept inside the cottage.

Griselda did a double take when she saw the princess and nearly tripped over herself trying to make introductions. The witch was tiny, withered with age, but that did nothing to curb her enthusiasm at having someone as pretty and tough as Marianne in her home. How hard it was to play matchmaker when her son insisted they hole themselves up out here in these god-forsaken woods! Grinning widely, she took Marianne’s hand and drew her closer to the fireplace as she drenched her in a torrent of conversation.

“Oh goodness me, deary, you must be frozen to the core a delicate little thing like you out in this cold! Come by the fire, let’s get you warmed up. Are you hungry deary, I’ve got a delicious stew on right now, it’ll be done here in just a few minutes. Where are you from, what brings you here at this time of year, oooh it must be something important, I know it! Haven’t you--”

“MAM. The lady can’t get a word in edgewise with all yer yammerin’. Let her speak, please.” Bog had taken residence against the door, his back pressed to it with slender arms crossed over his chest. The staff stood at his side like a loyal guard, ready for action at any moment. Dark ebony locks, a curious shade between tawny and black, curled upon his head like a crown of thorns while sharp blue eyes reminiscent of a clear sky in summer burned a hole through his (unwanted) guest. Marianne was bewitched for a moment, taken aback by just how young and… strong, this legendary sorcerer was. She took a deep breath to collect her thoughts, forcefully tearing her eyes away from his in an attempt to gather courage, and she spoke.

“Bog… as in Bog of the Black Oak?” Marianne had to ask without looking, lest she lose her train of thought again, and instead turned her eyes on his mother. “And his sorceress mother, Griselda the Great?”

They had very different reactions, with Bog hissing in disdain and Griselda preening under Marianne’s curiosity. Hoisting himself off of the door, Bog stalked between the two women over to the fire and crouched to add another log. Distrust drew his body taught, and it grated on his nerves to have his back to this stranger. With every word she spoke, his assumptions were proved right, and boy did that put him in a bad mood. He was so young when he left Hearthmark (relatively speaking) that he found it hard to remember what a sense of community felt like, what friendship and comradery felt like.  Griselda was privy enough to her son’s attitude’s to know that he was upset, and she placed her other hand on his shoulder. Bog seemed to visibly relax, if only minutely, and Marianne watched the exchange quietly. This Bog man, he was not very similar to the stories she had heard as a child. The firelight softened the harsh edge of his cheekbones and jaw, making him look almost afraid. This couldn’t be the man so hungry for power that he was banished to the Dark Forest…  

“I come to… request your services. Your feats are that of legend and I am humbled that you invited me into your home… Thank you very much for your kindness.” Marianne smiled softly, squeezing the hand that Griselda still held.

“My courage fails me, it seems. I have fallen in love with the man of my dreams, but I can’t seem to find my words when I’m around him, he is far too charming! Roland is a knight in service of my father, and is loved dearly by our subjects… myself included.” She took a moment and blushed very prettily as she looked for the proper words to convey her desire. “I would just hope that you might help me win his heart. Anything that you ask of me in return, you may have it.”

Griselda pondered Marianne’s request silently, glancing between the princess and her son, who was regarding the fire with a stony expression. The princess claimed to be in love, but it sounded more like infatuation to her. Not to mention… love potions were the reason that she and her son were here in the first place.

Bog clenched and unclenched his fists while the cogs in his brain turned. How could it be that a princess, especially one as lovely and forthcoming as her, could not win the love of someone, knight or not? Marianne was obviously kind if she would thank two strangers for keeping her warm even if they did it begrudgingly; she had to care a great deal for this knight as well if she was here, alone, in this weather. And yet, anything that they asked… in return for a love potion? A small but very bitter part of Bog’s heart thrummed at the thought, and paused to pick his words carefully before turning to the princess. The sorcerer stayed crouched, the shadows shifting on his face making him appear otherworldly and gaunt; Marianne’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him.

“You said anything, princess, is that what ye meant?” His eyes bored into hers with almost hypnotic amounts of energy. Marianne felt a wave of unease course through her but she stood her ground, nodding when her words failed her.

“There is a potion that I can craft, somethin’ guaranteed to win this knight’s… affection. I will teach ye how to use it. When yer lover is exposed to it’s magic, it’s nigh impossible fer them to not fall in love with the first person they see.” Bog stood, the flames returning its previously hoarded light to the cottage. “However… everythin’ comes at a price, me lady.” A wicked grin lit up his features, sharpening his electric blue stare that seemed to paralyze and terrorize Marianne for a moment.

“By using this potion, the one person ye hold closest to yer heart will be stripped of their ability to find love. Oh, aye, they will love their family, their friends, but…” Bog’s smile faded, a haunted look of sadness brushing over his features. “When someone falls in love with them, they cannot requite it, no matter how much they might want to. They will be damned to a life of fleeting, meaningless romance, leaving a string of broken hearts behind them as they suffer from an emptiness they cannot name nor fight.”

His monologue made her heart squeeze and her blood run cold. Marianne was stunned that someone could request something so utterly heartless, but an image of Roland rose unbidden in her mind’s eye. Gods above, he was so perfect; his smile, his golden hair, the way that he carried himself with such pride and confidence. A perfect romance in exchange for a loveless life for the person she cared most about? How could Marianne agree to something so heinous? Selfish… that’s what this goal was. Marianne would be queen one day-- is this something that she could live with on top of the stressors of managing a kingdom.

There was only one person this could affect… She let out a shuddering sigh, dropping her head and cradling it with her hands. There was no way… Dawn was such a bubbly, gorgeous person. If it was the last thing that she did, Marianne would make sure that Dawn could find someone to spend her life with.

Bog could see her resolve faltering and aimed to encourage her previously line of thinking. Griselda was… quiet for once; he did not dwell on that fact for very long. “Marianne… ye love Roland, donch ye? Yah know that the two of ye can be so happy… if yah just say yes.” That almost made Griselda peep-- this was going too far! She knew that Bog had been hurt before but this was something truly terrible. She kept her mouth firmly shut, thinking hard about the situation. Yes… yes, she could remedy this. Love is a tricky game, but one that she knew how to play well.

Marianne steeled herself and lifted her head, standing with her back ramrod straight anf fists clenched at her side. “Let me make this clear… You will make me a love potion, one guaranteed to work on Roland. But once I use it… the one dearest to me will never find love again?” Her heart was in her throat, and speaking the words around it was painful.

“Aye, Princess, that’d be the gist. So… what say ye?” Bog stood directly before her, offering his hand for a pact.

Marianne studied him for a moment, trying to clear her mind and buy herself some time. Bog of the Black Oak was not very sociable, but had enough wits about him to keep his manners in company. He did not take kindly to strangers, but still opened his home to her. Bog was stiff and uncertain when near her, as if he was not used to being close to people, or having friendly conversations. He was very different from his mother, who was endearing and lively even in her old age. Despite having very little experience with magic, the princess had a sense of naive confidence that she could make this deal work to her advantage. She couldn’t admit to herself that she was afraid, but pressured, having come so far and being unwilling to leave empty handed.

Marianne calmly placed her gloved hand in his grip, squeezing as they shook.

Dawn, please forgive me. I promise to make this right.

“Bog of the Black Oak… we have a deal.”

[slugmanslime]

I’ll Tell You What I Want! (Ch. 2)

so this may be like part one of ch.2 i can’t decide yet but all of these are going to be edited and lengthened before i post them to my ao3 and fanfic accounts

w/o further ado here is part two and im actually genuinely having fun writing again this is so great

EDIT: As with the first chapter, I made some major changes to the storyline, so I am reposting. This story can also be found on AO3, under the same title or author (slugmanslime).

Pairings: Marianne/Bog King, previous Marianne/Roland, future Dawn/Sunny Warnings: not much for this part, exhaustion, Roland is an ass, heavy foreshadowing that Marianne messed up Word Count: 2176 Chapters: 1 / 2 / ???

Hours, it had been hours of freezing wind, huge snowflakes and thick blackness that Marianne trudged through on her way back to the castle. Sunrise of the winter solstice had passed and she knew that Dawn could only cover for her so long before her father would be on high alert and sending out guards. As Marianne shifted the heavy coat across her shoulders, she was struck by a sudden brightness and gasped: she finally crossed the boundary of the Dark Forest and Hearthmark! The sun was had been steadily trekking across a heavily clouded sky as she travelled, its glow like a shadow, approaching early evening. She sighed wearily, knowing that she would have to move faster if she was going to make it home before nightfall. Marianne had not slept, and had barely eaten, but time was of the essence.

The princess marched on, tracking the path of the sun by the visible light as it sank lower and lower in the sky. Every now and then she would reach into her satchel and clutch at the bottle that housed her very own love potion. It made her heart race thinking about the possibilities; Bog had assured her that it was fool-proof, and she was desperate enough to trust him. She paused under the thick branches of a cedar tree as sunset cast a bleary gray blanket over the snow that had fallen the previous night. The heady scent of wood and sweet oils sharpened by the cold helped Marianne perk up a bit; she used to love climbing the trees close to the castle, back when she was younger. It seemed that those simple days were gone now…

Bog’s smirk as they struck their deal swam in front of her eyes for a moment and Marianne grew queasy, thinking about what might be in store for her and some unlucky soul in the future. Combatting that feeling was an odd tug she felt for him; it had to be a lonely existence out in the Dark Forest, and the way that he looked at her when he promised to care for his future wife dispelled her unease.

The chilly air turned downright freezing when Marianne finally made it back to the castle, crunching through the shadows towards the servant’s doors on the far right edge of the castle walls. It seemed like years as Marianne tramped on, snow clumping on her boots and pants. The princess was absolutely exhausted, stumbling over her own feet as she tried to catch her breath. Her vision was swimming and it was sheer willpower pushing her forwards at this point, and she braced her hands on the door, struggling to find the energy to push it forwards. Thankfully, she didn’t have to.

The door swung inwards, and Marianne fell forwards, right into a set of metal-covered arms. Oh, no-- nobody was supposed to be here! She nearly panicked, hiding her face in her savior’s chest. Perhaps if she could get away without them seeing her face, the plan could still be salvaged. They were both silent for a few heartbeats, and suddenly the guard spoke.

“M… Marianne? Princess-- I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Sir Roland’s endearing drawl drifted to her ears and her eyes snapped up to his face. Torch light cast shadows all around him but the flames made his gorgeous green eyes and golden hair absolutely glow. It was all Marianne could do to smile, face red from the cold and embarrassment.

“Well… you found me!” She chuckled breathlessly, before her eyelids slipped closed and her world went black.

--- --- --- --- ---

She was warm, that’s what her brain registered before anything else. Light flickered somewhere in the room, and she was nearly swaddled in softness that smelled like cinders and flowers. Marianne wrestled her eyes open, blinking to clear sleep from them, and gazed into the fireplace beneath the hearth with relief. Somehow or another, she had made it back to her own royal chambers, but… Marianne nearly choked and lurched in an attempt to sit up as she remembered her encounter with Roland, before her stomach turned and she groaned, sinking back down into the pillows.

Dawn startled at her side, and shushed her as she helped her sister recline. “Marianne, lay back! You must be exhausted, and hungry too! Your stomach has been growling in your sleep.” She covered a giggle behind her hand, and as suddenly as her mirth appeared it was dashed and replaced with indignant anger. “You were gone way longer than you promised! It was nearly two days, you have no idea the tricks I had to pull to keep Daddy off your tracks!”

Marianne could only smirk tiredly, pushing herself instead into a semi-sitting position against her pillows. “I know, I know, and I owe you big time! Buuuuut… the plan worked! I found them-- Bog of the Black Oak even made me--” Her voice slipped into a conspiring whisper, “a love potion!” She pumped her fist in the air and the sister’s gripped each other’s hands excitedly. As they celebrated, Dawn leaned behind her and slid a tray from Marianne’s desk, laden with stew, bread, and a few sweets snatched from the kitchen, much to the starving woman’s delight. As she ate, Marianne regalled her sister with tales of her journey, the creatures she saw in the forest, her conversation with Bog and Griselda… but she neglected to include the details about the unsavory clause she agreed to..

“You sure are talkative about this mysterious Booog character.” Dawn folded her hands under her chin and batted her eyelashes teasingly. “I always knew that you were into tall, dark and handsome!”

The elder princess couldn’t help but laugh, swatting her sister’s arm in return. “No way! I sweat that Bog is-- he was borderline evil, a real wacko! There is no way that Roland could ever be as cruel as him. I am into men of honor, men of character. I can’t be sure just what that sorcerer is capable of.” She swallowed thickly, thinking of the pleading way in which Bog had said her name, how he had tempted her into that deal with the way that he looked at her. The sorcerer had promised her something that some people can never achieve… Love. And now, because of her rash decision, there was a chance that Dawn would never have that either.

Dawn watched her closely, mulling over her statement before letting it win her over. For as long as she could remember, Marianne had always been an amazing judge of character, looking deep into the words and actions of the people around her to reveal their true colors. She gently took Marianne’s hand between her own and gave it a trusting squeeze.

“Heck, you met him, I didn’t! He must have been a real bastard for you to talk about him like that. After all, you’re just a big softy at heart.” Marianne smiled and laughed, scolding Dawn for her language and swinging a pillow at her face. Before the pillow fight could escalate, there was a serious of raps on Marianne’s chamber door, startling the pillow out of Marianne’s hand and sending it careening to the other side of the room. The duo exchanged gleeful gasps when a sultry voice, muffled by the thick wood, called out.

“Princess? I hope I ain’t disturbing you… I was just hoping to see that you were feeling better.” The Head of the Royal guard indeed sounded hopeful. The younger princess was in a tizzy while she gathered the tray and rushed to the door, flinging it wide open with a signature bubbly grin.

“Rooooooland! Of course you’re not disturbing her! I was just leaving actually, why don’t you come in?” Dawn practically purred, sidestepping the knight while leaving the door wide for his entrance. With a not-so-subtle wink to her flushing sister, Dawn was gone, the smell of lilac lingering in the air.

Marianne was out of bed in a flash as Roland entered, shutting the door softly behind him. She was dressed in her favorite nightgown, an ankle-length gown of soft cotton dyed a lovely shade of magenta, and for modesty she shrugged on the silken robe hanging on the post of her bed. The satchel containing her potion was there as well, and as discretely as she could, Marianne plunged her hand inside, grasping the bottle and slipping it out. She thrust the bottle into her rumpled comforter, and took a seat beside it, crossing her ankles and trying desperately to seem demur in her flustered state. Marianne waited a few moment’s for her guest to speak, and cast her eyes to his form when he didn’t.

Roland was posturing in her vanity mirror, having been distracted by playing with his curls. His armor was plated with gold and white accents that were just as polished and gleaming as always, making him appear like a holy vision of courage. Marianne quirked a brow and smiled softly to himself; if she was half as good-looking as him, wouldn’t she admire herself every now and then too? It took her clearing her throat once softly to grab his attention; Roland had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, covering the flush in his cheeks by sweeping over to her side and sinking to one knee. He smoldered up at her, intentionally or not, and took her right hand between both of his.

“My lady, Princess Marianne, you gave me quite a fright last evening-- you looked near frozen to death in my arms! Like a fairy caught in the cold, fluttering and shivering. You looked… beautiful.” Roland smiled, and Marianne nearly fainted all over again.

“Sir Roland, I can’t thank you enough for all of your help. I must have just lost track of time while out and about yesterday, and the cold snuck up on me. You’re like my knight in shining armor… literally.” Marianne giggled sweetly, her free hand pressed to her blushing cheek. Why couldn’t she stop laughing, she sounded so ditzy! Oh… she needed to hurry and use the potion, this was an opportunity that she wasn’t about to waste.

Marianne stood from the bed daintily, feigning a gasp and secretly folding the bottle into the folds of her robe as she held them closed. With a few carefully calculated steps, she stalked back to the vanity mirror as if suddenly distraught about her appearance. “Oh, goodness gracious, I can’t believe I invited you in while I looked such a state! Please, forgive me, Sir Roland.”

Not surprisingly, the knight followed right behind her, clutching her shoulders reassuringly and stirring up butterflies in her stomach. “No, my dearest lady, don’t fret now! I promise you, you look… just fine!” His eyes drifted from her face to his own, blowing a puff of air towards his curl to readjust it.

“You’re too kind…” Marianne faltered, her heart clenching in her chest. Here he was, her one true love, so close to her. But Dawn had just been here, so happy that her sister was returned home and unharmed. Would she ever get to feel how Marianne was feeling now? Would she ever forgive her sister from taking that away from her?

No… No, Marianne had promised to change her fate before even accepting the potion, and she was a woman of her word.

It was now or never; within the folds of her robe, Marianne worked the cork from the bottle, clutching it in her hand and the neck of the bottle in the other. Sending a silent prayer to any god that would listen, she whirled in his grasp, her lithe form slipping from his fingers easily as she splashed the bottle upwards. A substance, a curious marriage between a liquid and powder, filled the air and forced the princess to squeeze her eyes shut and hold her breath lest the potion be more effective on her than on him. She waited one, two, three of Roland’s coughs and dared to peek up at him. Roland was rubbing his eyes and gazing at her with an emotion so strong she wasn’t sure it could be that it was only love; it was closer to unadulterated passion and devotion. Her knees were so weak she had to reach out and clutch at his arms for support. Roland wanted to be closer to her, and drew her into his embrace as if he were clutching a bouquet of roses..

“Never knew I could feel like this…” Roland spoke softly and deeply, a tantalizing baritone that made Marianne’s heart falter. “Like I’ve never see the sky before…” His song was dripping with emotion, and Marianne couldn’t help but hug him, her face pressed to his neck to hide her tears of joy.

It was a shame-- Marianne was too lovestruck to notice that his eyes were not quite on her face as he sang, drifting to the side ever so slightly to gaze at his reflection in the mirror.

[slugmanslime]

so im writing the second part of that thing i started last night and im having a good time with this-- marianne deserves her righteous anger and im ready for some goofy bog