The Raven King

For those new to renaissance fairs, the moment they stepped beyond those iron gates, they were in another world. Glorious 16th century architecture surrounded with specks of Roman and medieval European woven throughout to create this magical land through time. For Eleanor, the fair had always been a second home, a place to unwind and truly be whoever she wanted to be.

And this year was special. The email from Jacob, her manager, was on replay over and over in her mind.

Dear, Eleanor,

I hope this email finds you in good faith as you have been selected to play Queen Charlotte…

Queen. She was going to be the queen. Her nails scratched at her arms. The queen was the more important figure in the whole fair and they had selected her to play it! It was an honor that was of the highest degree.

“Eleanor!” A woman about seven years younger rushed up toward Eleanor in a ruby red dress fit for a duchess with long sleeves and embroidery along the helms. The wind blew through her amber hair as her green eyes glowed with mirth. “Are you ready?”

Eleanor simply smiled as she took her sister’s hand. “Yes, let’s go see what they already have set up.”

They entered through the iron gates. Eleanor didn’t miss the double glances they gave her sister, Abigail, who simply smiled and waved at all the attention. Like a sponge, her sister soaked up the attention everywhere she went, letting her extrovert nature shine bright. Eleanor would be lying if she said there were days where she wasn’t envious.

“So, where should we start first?”

“Let’s us gaze upon the food choices, thus we can-”

“No.” An elbow poked her side. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to speak old English?”

Eleanor groaned. “But it’s part of the faire’s charm!” Her words earned an eye roll from Abigail, before she squealed at Eleanor’s sudden hug attack. “Seriously though, thank you for coming with me to this one. I know these things aren’t exactly your type but-”

“No butts,” Abigail shook her head. “You know this is the least I could do after you took care of me with mom’s…”

“We don’t need to talk about that now.” Eleanor countered. At her sister’s grimace, a flood of guilt crashed against her chest. “We can talk about it later.” She tapped her sister’s nose. “Once you’re settled into your new place at Columbia University Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons.”

Red brushed her sister’s cheeks. “You know you don’t have to say the whole school name.”

“I know, but I will do it every time.” Eleanor humored. “Because this is a big achievement, Abigail.” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m so proud of you.”

Before Abigail could scold her, two archers approached them. “Excuse me.” They regarded Abigail’s outfit with awe. “We were just wondering where you got that dress from?”

“Oh.” A hand slid around Eleanor’s waist. “My sister actually made it.”

Eleanor’s face flushed when both gazes snapped to her.

“Really? You made it?”

“I did.” Eleanor rubbed the back of her neck. “It was a while ago though.” Back when sewing was the only form of escape from her life. She didn’t even know if she could make something like that now. Even then, there were better things to use money on then silly fabrics and trinkets.

Not when others needed it more.

“And it still holds up wonderfully,” Abigail countered, earning a mocking glare from Eleanor.

“Well, it’s really beautiful.” The raven hair complimented. “It matches your skin tone perfectly.”

“And your hair is so beautiful,” the blonde added. “I wish I could get my hair that color.”

As the two archers continued their onslaught of compliments, a familiar smell hit Eleanor’s nose. Her smile widened, before she gave her sister’s hand a small squeeze and went to follow it.

When they were younger, just like any other child, they adored the sugary, fried goodness of funnel cakes. A wooden cart with large wagon wheels stood among the outskirts of the fair with a fresh bubbling pot of oil that pulled her closer. The man’s smile widened. “Ah, what can i receiveth a fair mistress liketh thee?”

Her eyes scanned the various displays of decorative funnel cakes. “Can I have a strawberry funnel cake and ice cream?”

“Yond shall beest ten fifty.”

Eleanor handed the man the money where thirty minutes later, two freshly fried funnel cakes were placed onto the serving table.

A handful of strawberries sat in the center of the first with a strawberry glaze decoration and whipped cream. For the second, a large scoop of vanilla ice cream sat in the center with chocolate drizzled around and across the pastry.

Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the steam lifting from the pastry as she inhaled the wonderful scent. “Thank you!” She called to the man, who simply smiled and waved.

Eleanor wasn’t surprised to see a mini crowd had gathered where she left her sister. After all, she drew them in like moths to light and kept them hooked on her cheerfulness and kindness. However, Eleanor faltered at the sight of an older man that had joined the group.

“Jacob?” She questioned her manager. “What are you doing here?”

He glanced at her, decorated in the silver chainmail of knight hood. “Ah, Eleanor, I was wondering when you would show up.” He nodded back to Abigail. “Is this your sister?”

“Yes, this is Abigail. Thank you for letting her become part of the cast for the last day.”

“Thank you for the help.” His smile softened. “It’s not everyday that one of our own leaves for a big city such as New York.” His eyes roamed over Abigail again, slowly, carefully, calculating. “In fact, I think I have the perfect role for you, your majesty.”

Eleanor’s heart dropped as he lowered himself into a humble bow.

“Wait, I’m going to be the queen?” Abigail’s smile threatened to burst. “Me? Be the queen?”

“You’re the perfect role for our Queen Charlotte.” His arm grabbed Eleanor’s. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to your sister for a second.”

Eleanor barely had time to hand Abigail her funnel cake, before Jacob pulled her out of earshot. “Jacob,” Eleanor frowned. “I thought I was supposed to be the queen. Your email said…” She trailed off.

A tired sigh left his lips. “I know, but attendance this year has been dangerously low, Eleanor. Lower than it’s ever been. People just aren’t into these things anymore.” His gaze snapped back to Abigail. “Maybe if we can give the younger generation a look at a more…attractive queen their age, it could bring them in by the dozens.”

A more attractive queen their age…

“Plus, you said it yourself, your sister is an outgoing beacon. Just look at how she attracted the crowd.” Even now, more people were flooding to her to wish compliments on her dress. “She’s the perfect queen, Eleanor.”

His gaze softened. “I know you were looking forward to it, but please, for the sake of the faire, can you help her?”

Eleanor’s lips parted, before she closed them again. There was really no point in arguing or even trying to fight it. Not when every word he said was true. “Alright.” She smiled. “I’ll help her with the role.”

“Thank you, Eleanor.” Jacob grabbed her hands. “I am forever in your debt.”

Eleanor’s smile simply widened. She ignored the excitement that drained out of her like an open plug, or the way her eyes pricked with hidden tears. No, she simply closed her eyes and forced a breath through her lungs.

She could do this.

Jacob was right.

Abigail made the perfect queen, and there was nothing Eleanor could do to change that.

***

Her townhouse door clicked shut behind her as Eleanor pulled her wig off. She dropped the braided, blonde weave at her throbbing feet, before making her way straight to the bathroom where the blue-eyed fair skinned lady in waiting stared back at her.

A tired sigh left her lips before she pulled the skin beneath her eye down. Like a horror movie, her finger poked and prodded at the contacts in her eyes.

Don’t blink. Don’t blink. Don’t blink. As she eased the first blue contacts free, she blinked once then again letting her newly freed eye focus. Her true brown eye stared back at her. Beautiful queen Charlotte, the fairest queen of the land.

Removing the second contact, she placed both of them in their container before removing her wig cap, releasing her brunette hair. Look at her beauty and grace. Eleanor rubbed at her stiff shoulder. More like shoulder pain and demotion.

Soon, she had the electric kettle boiling hot water as she prepared her cup of apple, cinnamon tea which soon filled her entire place with warmth. She plopped herself, with her tea, on the sofa just as a tap caused her to glance up.

Her smile softened as she lowered the tea onto the table. “A little late aren’t you?” She humored as she went to open the window. A flash of black feathers hopped inside. Its silver eyes turned to her, watching and waiting for her to shut the window behind it.

With a shake of its head, its wings flared out with a simple greeting caw before it leaped onto her table where it waited for its usual treat of applesauce. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” Eleanor humored as it clacked its beak with impatience.

Sitting on the couch, she watched it dive into the mushy meal. It had been a few days since she first stumbled across the raven, which had been buried deep in the snow, a sharp contrast of black against the blinding white.

She brought it inside without a second thought, and after reading about the bird’s love of applesauce and double checking for any disease outbreaks near her such as west nile, nursed it back to health.

Now, it paid her a visit almost every other night almost as if it saw her as a friend.

Lifting her tea to her lips, she took a sip as she continued to watch the raven eat its fill, before she lowered her cup and went to grab her sketchbook. She flipped to a new page and instantly had a rough outline of the bird before her. Despite how much she tried, she couldn’t seem to get the rich velvet-black feathers perfect. They always shifted in the light to different shades of purple and green that held you captive and unable to turn away.

Beautiful. Her smile softened. It’s so beautiful.

Its head turned to her with a simple head tilt. Eleanor turned her sketch toward him. “What do you think?” She heard about certain birds, mostly ravens and crows, having high intelligence and understanding capabilities. And its head tilted, as if studying the picture, it gave off a pleased caw.

“Good.” She turned it back to herself. “Though, I still can’t get your feathers right.”

With another caw, as if to encourage her to keep it up, the raven turned its attention to grooming itself. Elenaor tapped her chin as she stared down at her raven friend. It still needed a name though.

“Sophie?” She glanced at it. “Angela? Emerest?”

The raven’s head tilted as if to ask what she was doing.

“You need a name. But I have no idea if you’re a female-” His feathers rose as he clicked his beak threateningly. Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “-male raven?” They lowered.

“Ok, male.” She hummed. “How about….Timmy?”

A disgusted caw.

“Ethan?”

Annoyed caw.

“Ryan.”

He turned and stuck his tail feathers up at her. Eleanor huffed at his attitude. “Well, you know thinking of names isn’t exactly easy.” Taking her cup of tea, Eleanor lifted it to her lips and grimaced at the cold liquid. “Alright, no more tea for me.” As she lowered the cup and wiped her neck, her hand pulled away covered in foundation.

A caw snapped her gaze to the raven who, with a sudden flared his wings, landed on her knee. His focus turned from her stained hand to her patched neck. Shaking her head, Eleanor couldn’t help but marvel at its intelligence.

“I’m alright,” she reassured, scratching the raven under the chin causing its beak to click rapidly with pleasure. “My vitiligo is just starting to spread to my neck again.”

The raven’s head titled again, leaving Eleanor wondering just what he was thinking of. As it reached forward to poke her skin, a sudden yawn from Eleanor’s lips startled it back onto the table.

“Ah, sorry.” She covered her mouth. “I guess doing the fair and then dropping Abigail at the airport left me more tired than I thought.” With a small hum, she pushed herself up. Grabbing a pillow, she placed it beside the raven. “Here, this should be nice and comfy for you.”

Though she didn’t even know if it truly used the pillow since it was always gone in the mornings, which was weird considering she never heard it leave. Another yawn left her lips as she made her way to the bed.

But that would have to be a thought for another time as her brain was already filling with peaceful dreams. With a collapse into the bed, Eleanor closed her eyes as she let the exhaustion from today claim her.