Pixie Dust

Dean grumbled as he walked through the dark forest, brushing dirt and vines off his leather jacket from where he’d been tripped and had fallen face first into a ditch. He pulled a clump of grass from his hair and scowled as he heard the playful snickering of the things he was there to hunt. He kicked at a flowering bush as he passed it, smirking when he heard the snickering turn to gasping anger. He felt good getting them back.

He had stumbled several times, to his own embarrassment, when he finally got close enough to hear the elusive singing of the mother Fae. He almost felt bad for having come to destroy her, but she’d let too much trouble happen so now it was a hunters turn to step in. He sighed; then shoved it to the back of his mind. He had a job to do. He stepped up to the curtain of vines and flowers before gripping a bunch and shoving them to the side and stepping through the gap.

The air smelt of earth and fire, of magic and power. The area around him sparkled with blues and greens, twinkles he realized were tiny pixies; pixies that squealed and flickered away as he came closer. He lifted his gun, aimed to the ground as he stepped up to the small fire and looked to the Fae queen that sat upon a giant lily, braiding daises into her long flowing hair. She was humming, a small tune that climbed in volume the further it got from her. As she finished a long braid, she picked another daisy before flicking her bright rose pink eyes up to look right into his causing him to lower his gun again. It unnerved him, she was their queen and therefore ancient, though still only the size of a small child.

“And so the great hunter comes into my home to destroy me, for is that not the reason you are here, Dean Winchester?” Her pale lips twitched in amusement as Dean stared in sheer amazement.

“How’d you?”

“I hear things human.” She muttered, finishing another braid. “Why must you come frightening my children? Assaulting our homes for joy.”

“That,” Dean cleared his throat and averted his eyes when she glared at him. “Sorry.”

“What do you want?” She asked in a carefree tone as she ate the daisy in her hand.

“You know why I’m here.”

“So I do,” her lips curved into an evil grin, flashing her rows of jagged teeth. “But I don’t have to die quietly.”

“It’d make my job easier.” Dean flashed his trademark smirk.

“If I’m to die, you will have to earn it!” And before Dean had the time to raise his gun, she was gone in a puff of flowers and glitter. Dean spun in a circle, searching for any sign of the queen. The whole forest had gone silent; the only sound was the tiny tinkling of the tiny wings of the pixies that sparkled around him; and his own laboured breathing. He looked to each natural ‘archway’ before picking one at random and jogging through it.

He found himself at the edge of a small incline that led to a large lake surrounded by greenery. Mist rose from the black water, twinkling lights floated above, sparkling shadows swam beneath. It was beautiful. Dean cleared his throat and moved to step forward and found himself shoved into that lake. He broke the surface and found the water freezing, pitch as night and eerie. With sweeping strokes he made for the surface for air but couldn’t seem to get anywhere. His lungs burned, his eyes stung as he spun around and spotted why he couldn’t move. Tucking his gun under his arm, he reached for his knife and with a quick slice through the water, cut the wrists of the nymph holding him under.

The scream was deafening. Dean was positive he’d emerge with his ears bleeding but when he finally gasped in air, he couldn’t give a damn if he was bleeding from ever pour, so long as he didn’t drown. He spluttered, coughing up water and shivering as he kicked for the grassy knoll that was shockingly far from where Dean was struggling. He hadn’t fallen in that far, had he? Shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind, he gulped in air and kicked as hard as he could.

Sitting cross-legged on the hill, picking at the flowers and watching the belligerent hunter resist her abyss, the Queen inhaled and sniffed at a rose. It was a perfect bloom, budded and fragrant, but when Dean reached the shore and dragged himself out of the water, she sank her teeth into the flesh of the blossom; gripped her fingers tight around the long stem and twisted, hearing the strangled cry cut off as the life was torn from the plant. Throwing the remains carelessly to the ground as she stood, she glared down at the persistent hunter, and thinking oh so cunningly, smirked at her amazing idea.

If he thought being a pixie was all fun and games, then she’d show him just how hard it was to be like her precious darlings.

Dean dragged himself up and knelt in the soft grass as he shivered. He looked around, noting the unusual chatter of, well everything. Frowning in suspicion, Dean got to his feet and swiped the water out of his hair before he climbed the small incline and made his way back into the heart of the forest. He stepped back through an archway of growth, and with a startled yelp, found himself swinging upside down from a group of vines. Having dropped his gun, Dean cursed and went lax.

“Mind your surroundings, boy.” The Queen stepped out from behind a large willow trunk and smirked as she imitated his father. “Always be watchful and mindful of your self and everything around you when you’re in an unfamiliar environment. Dean, Dean, Dean, you weren’t any of these things. Mr. Winchester would be displeased I think.”

“Go to hell.”

“And I was lead to believe you had a smarter mouth then that, I’m insulted.”

“Alright, how about ‘go to hell you pink eyed hussy.’ Better?” Dean sneered.

“Rude. But it is of no matter to me. You’ll learn.” Her pink eyes lit up as she slowly made her way towards Dean.

“Whoa, wait a second, what do you mean I’ll learn?”

“See the world through the eyes of mine, but do so without the aid of very much time. Take to long and stuck you’ll be, for all eternity, just like me.” Her voice was eerily low, a pounding in his head as she watched him without blinking, her lips working around the words and entrancing him.

“What?” Dean felt heavy, tired and weak as he continued to hang upside down while the Queen walked circles around him, her hair taking a life of its own and curling around her, her limbs becoming less elegant and more like knotted lengths of lumber; her fingers twisted twigs. Dean watched in pale confusion as her heart fluttered inside a ribcage of vines and branches, her skin no longer pale and smooth but ripped and aged; parchment pulled to tight over bone.

”Know this world, be one with it, see as I do when it’s only moon-lit. Feel the earth speak and cry, forget my words and you’ll surely die. Read all you want, the answer you won’t find, everything you need to go back is here,” she pressed the tip of one of those twisted fingers to Dean’s temple and leaned in close to his face. ”right in your very own mind.”

“You, get away…” Dean began to fade, his eyes fluttering between opened and closed as he struggled to hang on. The Queen pressed her lips to his ear and whispered, her eyes watching.

“Learn to be as truthful as a flower. Hold no secrets, speak your mind and be as at peace as the stream. Be one with who you are as I am with the woods. Hold no more hate for what you’ve done, grudges will only make you as ugly as the toad. Tell him why you really left, not in anger but as gentle as the breeze. Then and only then, will you be as you are. Do not as I speak and stay forever as the being you are when you wake.”