Lore wrote:Puck was born a fae, many moons ago. He was beautiful, with antlers covered in flowers and perfect symmetry in his wings. So purely of the forest that mushrooms grew from his skin. As one might expect, the praise lavished on his looks went to his head - Puck was quite proud and took to using his gifts to charm unsuspecting humans and fae folk alike. He was tickled by their surprise and dismay when his tricks came to light, after they had been blinded by beauty. Puck thought it to be quite a fun game. His playfulness, however, eventually spelled disaster.
Though fae folk were generally left to their own devices, there was one fae to whom they all answered as their king. He had wed a human woman renowned for her beauty several moons past and the pair were expecting a child. As is commonplace for fae births, a human midwife had been selected to aid in the delivery and care of the baby - the queen’s own sister. And so it was that this sister found herself wandering in the woods on that fateful autumn day, stepping into the realm without escort and losing herself to the endless trees. As she walked, crunching indelicately across leaves and fallen branches, until she noticed the shimmer of wings as a moss-green fable stepped into her path ahead. As a mortal, she was enchanted by his beauty. She’d never seen such symmetry in the outside world, and his smile felt easy and warm. She believed she could trust him.
“Hello, my dear, what a pleasant surprise,” Puck cooed to the woman. He could see the glimmer of stars in her eyes.
“Hello,” she returned, giving a gentle curtsy.
“What is a lady doing wandering around these woods?” he inquired, circling her slowly to better measure up his newest toy.
She followed his figure with her eyes as he moved around her, but did not shift her stance. “Finding herself a touch lost, I admit.”
Puck smiled again, his manner still playful as he spoke. “How troubling indeed, my dear. Tell me, could I have your name?”
Though struck with his charm, she faintly recalled a warning of fae and names. She shook her head in reply. “I’m afraid I’m still using it, good fellow. Even if I could give it to you, I may not remember it in the face of your beauty.”
Puck lifted his chin, his minor disappointment overridden by the delight of someone entertaining his vanity. “I am a pretty one, that is true,” he hummed, flittering his wings slightly so as to catch the light. The woman’s gaze followed, seemingly mesmerized.
“Surely as striking a fae as yourself could find it in you to lead a woman to her destination?” She hoped her flattery may yet win him over to lending her aid.
“Of course, madame, I can,” he allowed his tail to swish behind him, yet another means of distracting her. “But I do have so many errands to finish. May I have a day?”
Her eyes had flitted down, her mind caught up in wondering how a tail of leaves could look so neat. On instinct, she nodded her head, the picture of politeness. “Why of course, you may.”
Puck’s eyes gleamed and his smile widened to almost a caricature of glee. “Thank you, my lady. How generous of you.” A gust blew through the woods, and the woman felt a shiver run down her spine. Her eyes snapped back to his grin and found it now to be that of a cheshire cat - sharp and unfriendly. She could feel she’d erred, and when her now-clear mind revisited their conversation she realized what she had done. Puck had taken what she had unintentionally given - a full day from her, in what felt like the span of a second. In ordinary circumstances, perhaps this was only a light tease. She could certainly have been swindled out of far more. And yet, knowing the reason she had come, she felt the pit of her stomach drop out. Puck, still pleased with his trick, did not notice her watery eyes.
“Where to, my dear?”
“The palace,” she whispered.
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Puck, along with many of the fae, had been unaware of the queen’s due date. He hardly knew she and the king were expecting a child at all. When he arrived with the queen’s sister, whose identity was still unrevealed to him, he was startled to find the fae king’s fury awaiting them.
The sister had missed the birth.
The woman recounted exactly how she had been delayed as Puck puzzled over her tears and apologies. When the king rounded on him, he came to realize his own mistake. It was then that the king laid down his judgment. If Puck’s beauty was the cause of his queen’s pain, then Puck’s beauty would pay the price. With a wave of his hand, the fae king transformed Puck like his flesh and bones were as soft and resculptable as silk clay.
In place of the branch on the left on his face, a twisted horn of gnarled wood grew unevenly over his forehead. His right wing morphed and shrunk until it buzzed like that of a cicada. Neither side of him remained a full picture of what he was - no matter how Puck viewed himself, he would always see what he’d lost. Beauty would never service him again.
