Thistlewyn & the Bug Broth King
“Well! If that be yer way of sayin’ hello, I dread to think what ye do fer goodbyes.” Thistlewyn, not so delicately was at the task of wiping the spew dribble from her wee little fairy chin and the chunder froth from the bug-goo that had splattered on her little legs and feet from King Arthur’s bug broth backwash. He had no idea why she was all fired up; that was a perfectly fine breakfast he had forfeited to gain her friendship, and here she was—indignant, hmm.
Thistlewyn Maevelee, a whimsical fairy with windswept blonde curls and flashing green eyes, mid-leap in a cream colored dress; Covered in chunder froth and bug-goo from King Arthur, after she lands at T-Bone's Place--an East Texas homestead.
"Sweet saints preserve us, what in the name o’ bog water was that?! I’ll be scrubbin’ fer weeks tryin’ to get the smell offa me! Mother o’ mercy, are ye courtin’ me or tryin’ to poison me, ye feathered eejit?! Are ya just goin’ ta stare? Can ya speak?” Thistlewyn’s tirade of sputtering and spattering and waving her arms about, all whilst her wings fluttered in the sunlight and she lifted off the log, most unnaturally, kept King enraptured to the point of dumbfoundedness.
“Ahem-ahe-hem… You will forgive my gaze, small one. I am King Arthur — sovereign ruler of pine and creek‑bottom, lord of the red crest. What you have just witnessed was the sharing of my morning repast, a gesture of highest esteem in my court. I regret that your… constitution finds it unworthy. Now — declare yourself. Who stands before me, and by what right do you tread in my forest?”, declared King Arthur quite magnanimously.
" Sweet suffering spuds and holy turf fires — ye spat up a corpse at me! I’ve seen foxes with better manners! Yer a right gallant king, so ye are — showerin’ a lady in yer breakfast! Saints alive, I’ll be smellin’ that till Beltane! If you’re the ‘ruler’ over this pine and creek bottom and you are lord of this red crest—what Land exactly is this?” Thistlewyn said all of this with a flourish of flapping arms and fluttering wings.
“You have not yet answered my query, small one. Who is it that stands before me and by what right do you tread in my forest?”, asked King Arthur.
“I’m Thistlewyn, born where the moonlight weaves,
In the Otherworld’s halls ‘neath the silver leaves.
Where the hills are gold and the grass is green,
I’ve danced with the foxes, and I’ve tricked the unseen.
A fairy bold, with a thistle’s sting;
With a wee taste for trouble — I’ll make the hollows sing.”
If Arthur wasn’t mistaken, and he rarely was, he swore he saw sprinkles of light flittering off of her wings AND fingertips! My goodness! What in the world had he found? What must he do to protect this special creature?
“Oh, Miss Thistlewyn! Forgive me for bringing offense! That was never my intention, I merely wanted to share and say welcome in our East Texas way! We may not eat the same way or talk the same way, but we have great big hearts here and I promise the BEST of intentions. Please accept my apologies.” King Arthur held out his wingtip in an offer of camaraderie and friendship. “Let’s start over. I’m King Arthur, I kind of watch over everyone who lives here at T-bone’s Place and I help keep the peace. I am sorry I startled you by sharing my breakfast that way without asking if that is how you prefer to eat yours, I just thought with those fancy wings and all…Well, anyway, my bad.” He tried wiping her off and only succeeded in knocking her down, “OH! You are a tiny thing, aren’t you?! What can I do to help? Are you lost? I haven’t ever seen you before, well, or any of your kind come to think of it.”
Thistlewyn was trying to avoid being knocked down again by Arthur’s attempts to right his morning’s social fumbles, and as more seconds tick by and the more he apologizes, she realizes he has a HUGE heart! He’s a giant softy, and he was as startled by her appearance into HIS world as she was being yanked out of her own. But here he stood, so tall and proud, working to ease her discomfort at the cost of his own.
She knew then, sure as the stars above, that she truly, truly liked King Arthur.
She stretched out her wee hand and clasped his wingtip with a firm grip. “Ah, 'tis a grand privilege it is, makin’ yer acquaintance, so it is, Mister Arthur. I’ve a feelin’ in me bones we’re goin’ ta be fast-flyin’ friends, we are,” declared Thislewyn, her bright green eyes sparklin’.