The Somewhat Faerie

     “Full is my heart, with my love; fair is your face, as the sun above...” she whispered. The words her mother had told her before she had to leave.

     Leave where? Jaeneille often asked herself. Where had her mother left so suddenly to? It was a mystery to her and many of Lilliophaine’s friends.

     “Lilli,” they’d begged her, “don’t go.”

     But Lilli had left, taking with her so many things which were dear to others. Lilli had hurt many, but none of those wounded had stopped loving her.

     Jaeneille looked back to the city of Neopia Central and blinked back tears. It hurt her to see so many good denizens dying because there was no food for them to eat; for they were too poor to buy anything. Stealing from each other whatever they could get, they were at war. But this was a war no one else looked at. Other, slightly wealthier Neopians took great trouble in looking the other way when these wars were in full swing. Jaeneille did not.

     “If only...” she sighed. “If only...” Jaeneille had never been able to finish this sentence. If only... what? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t have the neopoints or the skill to run something which would make a difference. She’d need the support of the Faerie Council before she could do anything.

     And that would never happen. Fyora had been a personal friend of Lilliophaine and she felt terrible that Lilli had left her without even so much a goodbye; for this, she resented Jaeneille and everything she represented.

     “Sweet Jhudora’s cupcakes, I have an idea!” Jaeneille exclaimed and hurriedly sat herself on a nearby, partially submerged boulder. Resting her chin on her hands, she looked out to sea without even seeing it.

     Ideas and plots began to form in her clever mind and her kind heart swelled with hope. What if? She couldn’t finish that sentence either for sheer delight.

     “Oh, the world is a good place after all!” she sang as she twirled, her full skirt swishing around her legs, “but how to put it in action?”

     She spent that whole afternoon on that submerged boulder, plotting and thinking. When it was completely dark, like ink had been spilt on the landscape, Jaeneille was pulled from her reverie, and her dream world of happy neopets everywhere was pushed to the back of her mind.

     “Ooh, how late it is!” she exclaimed, running down the large, grassy hummock she had been standing on.

     The difference with Jaeneille was the fact she didn’t have any wings. She’d never been granted the privilege when she was a baby. Jaeneille didn’t mind much. If that’s the way things were supposed to be, so be it.

     Inside her small neohome, she took out a large pot. With a smile, she found her wooden spoon as well and began to add her ingredients from the shelves on the wall. These were the moments of the day when she was happiest; when she was making soup.

     “Hmmm... it needs something,” she decided as she took a tiny taste. “Perhaps some asparagus,” she decided firmly.

     When it was finished, it smelled delicious. Seeing as she lived on the grassy hill above the marketplace, everyone; even at Neopia Central could smell her soup. Everyone’s mouth watered at this time of day when she made her soup.

     Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned towards the cupboard where she kept her single bowl and special silver spoon. She poured some soup into the bowl and looked sadly at the rest of the cauldron of soup. Whatever would she do with it?

     “I know,” she whispered. Also seeing as she was on that hill, her voice could be projected all the way to Neopia Central. “People of Neopia Central, if you are homeless or poor, come to my house for soup this evening, for I have a whole soup pot of my special soup to serve.”

     She saw a wave of colour coming towards her. All were trying to get there first. ‘Wow,’ Jaeneille thought, ‘that’s intense.’

     Consulting her soup pot, she found that there wouldn’t be nearly enough for everyone. When the mob arrived, she told them to line up and assured them they’d all get a bowl. While cooking and serving at the same time, she made another pot of soup—and another, and another.

     After everyone had had a bowl of delicious soup, they relaxed on Jaeneille’s grassy hill where the grass was lushest and made perfect beds. Jaeneille’s soup was cold, but she didn’t mind. She was perfectly content knowing that everyone had been fed.

     ****************************************

     Jaeneille opened her eyes and saw her room and prepared to roll over and fall back asleep when she saw in her window, at least a dozen grinning faces of neopets.

     “Ah!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening, sitting up in bed.

     “Surprise!” they shouted.

     Jaeneille put her hand to her heart in mock fear—although she had been slightly afraid.

     “You scared me, you little rascals!” she scolded playfully.

     Laughing, she got up and closed her spotted curtains to get dressed in jeans, bandanna and sneakers. When she emerged to her kitchen area, there was neopets hanging through the windows.

     “Be patient, would you?” she laughed. “I’m not a super hero.”

     “But you are a faerie,” one piped up.

     “Perhaps I am, perhaps I’m not.”

     The neopets looked at each other in a confused manner. Then they shrugged; faeries were a little odd sometimes. Jaeneille really wasn’t sure if she actually was a faerie or not. Real faeries had wings and used magic; she didn’t.

     “Ooh, ooh, what flavour today?” a baby Ixi asked excitedly, jumping up and down.

     Jaeneille felt a pang of guilt. Why was a baby Ixi on the streets? Did people not have any hearts? Did they not think that a baby should be given love, a home to grow up in? Or did they just avert their eyes?

     “Um... secret,” Jaeneille said with a weak effort at a smile.

     “Why are you so sad?” the Ixi asked with a sad look on her face.

     “It’s just... so many neopets don’t have homes,” Jaeneille whispered.

     “Oh, that’s nothing!” the baby Ixi exclaimed. “No one has a home, do they?”

     “What’s your name?”

     “Jenny.”

     “Jenny, everyone has a home; just because they haven’t found it yet doesn’t mean they don’t have one,” Jaeneille said to Jenny.

     Somehow Jenny understood what Jaeneille was saying.

     “I wish I had one,” she sighed. “I love to think that this is my home.” She gestured to the house. “It’s so pretty.”

     Jaeneille smiled. “It could be your home if you wanted it to be, Jenny,” Jaeneille said, bending down to the Ixi.

     Jenny’s rapt eyes turned to Jaeneille. “Really?”

     “Yes.” Jaeneille nodded solemnly. “I would be willing to adopt you, Jenny. Would you like to live here?”

     “Of course, Jaeneille!” She smiled up at Jaeneille.

     Jaeneille beamed down at her future neopet. “We’re going to be the best of friends, won’t we, Jenny?”

     “Yes,” Jenny said blissfully. “Yes, we will.”

     ****************************************

     Jaeneille awoke every morning to see Jenny cuddled up to her. She shook her gently and then they began their busy day. Both dressing in jeans, bandanna and sneakers, they moved about the cottage quickly; Jenny dishing up the soup, Jaeneille doing their “pose” together and then singing out: “You’re welcome!” for everyone to hear. Their “pose” was when they put their backs together, put an arm out in a dramatic pose and bent one leg. It really looked quite good when you saw it.

     Soon, even Fyora knew about Jaeneille and her efforts to save the homeless, poor and abandoned. Attracting Fyora’s notice is a very good achievement for a faerie, although Jaeneille didn’t have time to ponder over it at the moment. She was so busy with serving, making soup and doing the “pose”, she couldn’t think at all for herself.

     “Jaeneille, what did that letter mean that you got in the mail?” Jenny asked one night when the fire was roaring, logs crackling merrily.

     “The one from Fyora?—wait... the one from Fyora??? When did I get a letter from Fyora?” Jaeneille asked herself in disbelief.

     “Who’s Fyora?” Jenny asked curiously.

     “Fyora is the Faerie Queen! The almighty ruler of Faerieland! It says”—Jaeneille began reading hurriedly the letter from Queen Fyora herself! It was written in her handwriting! Jaeneille almost fainted—“‘I would love to come and see your little establishment myself. I’ll be coming on the 28th of September. Please be ready for my arrival on that date. I look forward to tasting your famous soup! Love always, Fyora.’” Jaeneille seemed ready to faint right there. “Love always,” she whispered. “Do you know what this means?” She shook Jenny’s shoulders. “We’re famous!”

     Jenny looked at her like she’d lost the plot. “Really? I got the general impression that the Faerie Queen was coming; if you have other opinions, feel free to express them.”

     Jaeneille looked up, her eyes once more sane. “We have to prepare. Find a recipe that will suit the queen of Faerieland.”

     So Jaeneille and Jenny looked for long into the morning for a recipe—and found none.

     “What are we going to do? The Faerie Queen will be here in a few days,” Jaeneille panicked.

     Jenny didn’t seem too fussed that the Faerie Queen was coming. She didn’t lived under her rule so why should she bow down?

     “What’s that noise?” Jenny asked; cocking her ear in the direction the sound was coming from.

     It sounded like a really big wind was coming straight towards the house, flapping like mad.

     “Oh no,” Jaeneille whispered, the colour draining from her face. “That’s... the Faerie Queen’s court!”

     Jenny’s face took on an odd expression, twisting up into an odd shape before she burst out laughing like a maniac. She roared with laughter, giggling and rolling on the floor.

     “WHAT’S SO FUNNY?!” Jaeneille asked the giggling Jenny.

     “You,” Jenny said. “I knew something like this was going to happen. You’d better get cooking that soup.”

     It was a good thing that Jaeneille, from habit, had already put soup on the stove and it was about a minute and an ingredient away from done. Jaeneille put in a dash of something and then turned to face the door, an expression that could only be called brave on her face.

     When the Faerie Queen’s servants opened the door to reveal the cosy cottage, she gasped. It was beautiful and somehow, Fyora couldn’t resist sitting on the comfortable, well-used lounges.

     “Good day, Jaeneille. Who is this?” she asked Jenny.

     “This is Jenny, my neopet.”

     “Oh, she looks fine! The soup smells wonderful, Jaeneille. Is it ready?” Fyora asked eagerly.

     “Yes,” Jaeneille answered. “Just done,” she said, pouring it into bowls.

     Soon, the whole Faerie Court was feasting on Jaeneille’s delicious soup in fine, white bowls with Jaeneille’s best silver spoons.

     “Mmmm... absolutely delicious,” Fyora said, putting her bowl by the sink.

     “Why, thank you.”

     “I came here for two reasons, Jaeneille. One was to see how good your soup was, and the second is if your soup was any good—which it’s not, it’s better than good, it’s perfect—and if it was, to offer you a job in Faerieland to sell soup for money in the Faerie Court.”

     Jaeneille looked at Jenny and out at the line that gathering outside her tiny cottage. She blinked her eyes and smiled at the Faerie Queen.

     “Fyora, I’m going to have to decline your offer.”

     Fyora looked surprised.

     “My first reason is that I belong here; my second is that I wouldn’t fit in; the third, they need me here, unlike in Faerieland where everyone had money. Thank you greatly, though, Fyora.”

     “What do you want then, Jaeneille?” Fyora asked with a kind smile.

     “I’m... not sure,” Jaeneille said uncertainly.

     “You shall have wings!” Fyora said, inspiration striking. “Beautiful yellow, light faerie wings; like you deserve.”

     Then, with a wave of her large, purple wand, Jaeneille had beautiful, glowing, yellow wings. Jaeneille and Jenny thanked Fyora and her Faerie Court before they flew away, their most important stomachs full of Jaeneille and Jenny’s soup.

     Then, Jaeneille and Jenny turned back to go inside, to make more soup for the hungry neopets outside.

The End

Thanks a heap for reading this, I loved writing it. :) NM me comments.