#faera

She felt the crack of the boy’s jaw under the third blow from their fist, but she didn’t stop. A fourth. A fifth. A sixth. Someone grabbed their arm when she pulled back for a seventh.

“Faera Stop!” Jane’s voice cried.

She faltered before shaking their friend off oh them and getting to their feet. Grabbing the front of the boy’s shirt, she yanked him to eye level. 

“Apologize,” She growled. He punched them in the face, the second hit he’d managed the whole time. She spit some blood out on the ground before slamming his face down on their knee. Straightening him again she pushed him toward Jane and gripped the back of his collar, “Apologize.”

“S-sorry Jane,” He whimpered, “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Jane let out a weak, “It’s okay.”

“Faera!” Fairy Godmother screeched in horror when one of the boy’s friends brought her over, “What the Bippidi-Boppoidi did you do?”

The girl rolled their eyes and dropped him onto the floor. “He grabbed Jane’s ass.”

“So you beat him?”

“He wouldn’t apologize,” She shrugged, “If it happens again, I’ll kill him.”

“My office, Now!”

Their eyes went wide but she did as she was told and stormed off.

She slumped in a chair outside Fairy Godmother’s offices with a huff, their arms crossed.

A few minutes later Jane showed up with a damp towel and a baggie of ice.

“Here,” the dark haired girl sat next to her friend, giving them the ice for their sore cheek. Then she timidly reached out, “Hand.”

Faera felt their face burn against the ice pressed against their cheek, but tried to keep their face indifferent as she put her bruised and bloody hand in Jane’s. She muttered a quiet, “Thanks.”

“I wish you’d stop getting into fights,” Jane said while she cleaned the blood off their knuckles.

“I wish the guys around here would learn to respect women,” She scoffed, pulling their hand away from their friend and leaning back in the chair.

“Really Faera, it’s not that big a deal,” Jane tried.

“The fuck it’s not!” She looked at their friend, “It was scummy and he deserved to get laid out on his ass!”

“Fae, you can’t keep-” She was cut off by her mother walking past and opening the door to her office. 

“I’ll talk to you later,” She says before getting to their feet and walking into Fairy Godmother’s office.

She drops themselves into a chair before Fairy Godmother invites them to and the woman sighs, “Your mother should be here soon.”

“Great,” She groans and moments later a snowy owl land on the sill of the open window.

In a cascade of glittering gold, the fairy on it’s back grows to the height of a grown man. He takes in the sight of the girl with bruised knuckles and blood drying at the corner of their mouth, his daughter.

“Fairy Godmother,” He turns to the woman on the other side of the desk, “Your message seemed urgent, unfortunately Queen Clarion was not able spare the time.”

“Surprise, surprise,” The girl scoffed, picking at their fingernails.

His eyes narrow at them, “Your mother is a busy woman, she hasn’t the time to come to the main land every time you decide to have an altercation.”

“Speaking of which,” Fairy Godmother cuts in, “if you could take a seat Lord Milori.”

“This is stupid,” The girl argues as their father sits in the chair next to them, “So some creep got what was coming to him. What’s the big deal?”

“You fractured his jaw!”

“He grabbed your daughter’s ass!” She snapped back, “What the fuck was I supposed to do?! Just let him get away with it?”

“You tell a teacher!”

“I have!” She countered, slamming their hands on the desk, “But that’s ‘Not possible,’ because ‘Prince Jerimiah is a respectable young man,’ and I ‘Shouldn’t go around trying to tarnish other’s reputations’!”

“This has happened before?” Milori asked, looking to Fairy Godmother.

“On multiple occasions,” The girl informed him, “And I’m sick of all these teachers thinking everybody here is a damn saint.”

Fairy Godmother is quiet for a moment, deep in thought.

“I’ll have a talk with the staff about this,” She said at last, “Lord Milori, I apologize for calling you here like this, I was prepared for this to be a disciplinary meeting, and while I don’t agree with how Faera handled the situation, I understand, now, what lead to it.”

He bows his head slightly.

“Faera, you’re free to go,” She says lightly, and Milori follows them out into the hallway.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Tch, you should see the other guy,” She shrugs, not looking at him.

“Faera,” He says in a serious tone that makes them turn to face him, “You cannot keep doing this.”

He took their hands in his, his cold skin soothing their bruises. “I haven’t any idea where you learned to speak so strongly with your fists.”

She was the only one of their kind, no fairy talent, no one to relate to. Free to cross the border between summer and winter as she pleased, but belonging to neither. A mother who tried her best, but never had time to spare, and a father who all too easily excused her absence as something to be expected. She wasn’t important enough for her mother’s time, so she would just have to make herself important enough.

If that meant she had to break a few noses and split a few lips? So be it.

Taglist: @justarandomhumanhere​ (Don’t ask questions, this is just your fate now, you will hear me go on about Fae for at least a week) If you would like to be added to the Taglist Comment or DM me! :)

Originally a field medic for his battalion, Eir and his brothers were badly injured in a shelling incident that left him heavily scarred across the left side of his face, took out a sizeable chunk out of his ear and killed many of his fellow soldiers. These days he’s usually confined to working in the GAR medical station on Coruscant or wherever else his skills are needed.

Being exhausted is a personality trait for him at this point, even his tattoos do little to cover up the dark circles permanently bruised under his eyes.

He’s quite an anxious thinker, so he often runs his hands over each other/in his hair when he’s concentrating or stressed - he usually looks a lot scruffier than one would perhaps expect of a medic.

Before his accident he was much more cheerful and outgoing, these days the war has worn down much of his enthusiasm, but despite his somewhat intimidating appearance he’s still a pretty chill guy. He’s got a surprisingly sharp tongue under the serene demeanour though, dealing with smart-arsed shinies all day will do that to you. He is however, incredibly easy to fluster and a bit of a pushover when it comes to people he’s close to. His secondary title should just be “Professional Third Wheel” to Faera at this point.

A small portion of the GAR has taken to nicknaming him “snarl” because of how his scar curls his lip up, he hates it and hates going without his helmet because he’s still self-conscious over it - unfortunately for him, medical officers rarely if ever have use for them anymore.