A World of Fashion

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World Series, Book 4: Laurëafanya is enjoying her growing popularity. Between showing up with celebrities, and her daily fashion blog, the young teen's fan base in growing by leaps and bounds on both worlds! Now she has people asking her to do modelling and cosplay events. The trick is to always keep her magical abilities under control. Her comfortable life in her community sometimes makes her forget people can't always take the easy road - like being able to walk on snow.

Fantasy / Romance
5.0 2 reviews
Age Rating:

Tuesday Turbulence

I wake up this morning and stretch; I take a few moments to orient myself. Right, I’m in the Nixë’s spare bedroom, with my darling betrothed not two doors down. Mother is resting in the armchair by the window. She looks like she’s meditating. The emotion of my waking brings her attention to me, and she smiles.

Good morning, my child.” She whispers in Elvish. “Rest well?

“Well enough, Mother, thank you.” I smile, replying to her in kind.

I’ve noticed that she only speaks in common in the presence of others now. Since reconnecting with Father, she won’t speak anything but our racial tongue unless there are non-Elves around. I guess it’s keeping us both fluent. You can lose a language if you don’t use it enough.

I roll out of bed into a handstand, then slowly split my legs, bringing them down one at a time. I love stretching this way. It feels good for the back. Mother and I get into our Tai Chi session, and not five minutes in, my phone pings. I stretch and grab my phone, continuing with leg movements as I read the screen.

-= Sala =- Are you awake yet?

I smile. She doesn’t want to rouse her parents by knocking on my door.

-= Laurëafanya =- Yes, my darling <3

-= Sala =- Please come to my room, but be quiet. ;)

Ah yes, my little minx is an early riser. She’s looking for something fun this morning. I find myself getting excited at the idea. Mother feels the sudden shift in my mood.

You’re going to go to her, aren’t you?” Mother whispers. I give her a pleading look. She merely smiles and shakes her head. “Go, I won’t tell her parents.” My brilliant smile makes her chuckle. I kiss her on the cheek and then quietly sneak out of the room.

I quietly open Sala’s door, making sure that it’s not some odd trap her parents are setting. My beloved is dressed in nothing at all and waiting for me. I quietly slip into her room, remove my nightshirt at the door, and fall into my beloved’s arms.

Delete Created with Sketch.

We’re laying in bed. She’s spooned behind me, holding me with her arms and wings. I have one hand holding hers, the other holding my phone. “What time do your parents wake up?” I whisper, noting we’ve been at it for over a half-hour now.

“Not till seven, usually.” She whispers.

“Good, we have time for me to slip out of your room unnoticed.” I smile.

“Do you have to leave my arms so soon?” she asks sadly, kissing my shoulder.

“If your parents were to catch us like this, they would never let us have a moment alone again.” Worry laced my voice.

Sala sighs and releases her hold on me. “Very well, my love. You are much more cautious than I am.”

I turn and give her a loving kiss. “My Tweet feeds say that they’re no classes today. The power will be restored in the next hour, but it’ll take most of the morning to clear the roads.”

“We get to have another snow day!” she says excitedly, kissing me again.

“We’ll wait till after breakfast, then reach out to the others.” I smile and give another loving kiss. “In the meantime, I need to change and my father should be calling me soon, so I’ll need to be back in the spare bedroom or downstairs.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs.” She smiles.

We share one more loving kiss. I wait at the door, listening for movement. I can still hear her parents sleeping. I pull on my nightshirt, slip out of her bedroom, and go to the bathroom. This way, if her mother wakes, she’ll see me coming out of the bathroom and into the spare room instead of leaving Sala’s.

Sure enough, as I do my morning business and wash up, I come out of the bathroom to face Miahna. “Good morning Amma,” I say cheerfully.

Her hair is dishevelled, and she looks like she just woke up. “Are you always so cheerful in the morning?” She grumbles.

“Yes!” I grin and hug her. “I need to get dressed and post my fashion blog.”

She grumbles about morning people and stumbles into the bathroom as I skip off to the spare bedroom.

As I was supposed to have Tai Chi yesterday, today is the perfect day to post the first shot of my athletic wear. For Tai Chi, I have a comfortable pair of form-fitting yoga pants with a sports top. My mid-rift, arms and shoulders are bare, showing all of my upper-body musculature.

I toss on an oversized sweater and bring my things downstairs. Today I only did the one-shot. My curly bob covers my ears completely, so it works for both my Grid and Internet pages.

I still can’t get the 3D data device photos to post on the Internet. I’m flattening the image to post on my social media page here when Father’s call comes through. Mother is the first to pick it up as I left the sending stone on the coffee table in the living room. I’m sitting beside her, cross-legged on the couch.

I smile as they greet each other. They are sometimes worse than Sala and I, with how much they profess their love for each other. “Good morning Father.” I smile when I can finally get a word in.

“Your voice sounds different this morning. Where are you?” Father probes. I guess the acoustics in the Nixë living room differ from my bedroom back home.

“I’m at Sala’s place, Father. We had a snowstorm yesterday, and they wanted me to stay in town instead of trying to reach Blightwood in a blizzard,” I look out as I can see the streetlights come on. “And it looks like our neighbourhood just got its power back.” I smile.

“Just got your power back?!” Father asks, amazed.

“Humans rely on electricity that travels over raised power lines,” I explain. “The blizzard knocked a few of the lines out, and it’s taken them….” I look at my phone. “Two hours to restore power to this area this morning. It’s been out since yesterday afternoon.”

“The Nixë don’t depend on this electricity you talk of, do they?” Father probes.

I smile. “No, magic households rarely depend on electricity. We still have plugs for electronics, but my mobile devices have Mecha batteries and never lose power.”

“How did you get a hold of those? I don’t recall you bringing any back from home?” I hear the frown in his voice.

“Rose procured them. She’s rather resourceful.” I grin.

“Have you spoken of these Mecha batteries to your beloved or that purple Fae? What was her name again?”

“Amethyst.” I smile. “Actually, I don’t think I have… I just figured, if it was something to be shared, then an adult would let them know.” A thought comes to mind. “You know, that’s just the gift I can give my betrothed for her birthday in three weeks. Though I had a different idea.”

“What was your different idea?” Father probes.

My ears perk up as I hear someone coming down the stairs. “I can’t tell you about this right now. I’ll send you a private message.”

“What are you conspiring, my darling?” Sala says, putting her arms around me from behind.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told my love.” I giggle.

Sala comes around, climbs into my lap, and leans against my shoulder. “Good morning ataremma Laitaurë.”

So you are addressing both of us as your parents now?” Mother teases.

“Are you not already my parents?” Sala asks confused. “She is my mate, after all.”

Did we not already have this talk yesterday? You are not a mated pair, two women cannot have intercourse…” Mother starts.

“You told them?” Father probes.

Laurëa figured it out on her own and called us out on it.” Mother says with a grim smile.

“I still consider Laurëa as my mate,” Sala says matter-of-factly. “To me, you are already my parents, wedding or not. I made my promise to her already.” I smile and squeeze her lovingly.

“I sense that there’s some disharmony in your voice,” Father replies.

“Well, we feel slightly betrayed,” I say before mother can. “You misled me. I was trusting you to not misguide me as I learn about our people and our ways.” My tone has a slight bitterness to it.

“Dearest daughter, please don’t feel like this is a breach of trust. We wanted you two to stay committed to each other…” Father starts.

“Is this because of my human friends?” My parents are quiet. “Because of Luna?” I’m trying to keep my voice low. “I’ve already told you I’m not letting myself be romanced by my sister, and I’m limiting how close I am with my human friends. Sala is the love of my life! As much as I care for the others, they don’t come close to the feelings I have for my beloved!”

I see my mother about to say something, but then she glances over at the stairs. I hear Miahna coming down.

“I suppose I reacted poorly,” Father admits. “I want you two to be happy…”

“You can’t force us into happiness, Father!” I frown. “You, above all people, should know that Elves need love in a union. You can’t force me into a relationship with someone. It will never work!”

“You were using Fae arranged wedding rules. Were you not Arch Druid?” Miahna asks, leaning over the couch. “That would not work among your people. Why did you even try it?”

“Your people need a political union,” Father replies. “The Fae need to find peace…”

“By playing your daughter as your pawn Arch Druid? You disappoint me.” Miahna replies. “You are fortunate that the children care for each other deeply. This could have turned badly if you had forced your daughter into a loveless marriage.”

“My aides said that the girls were very much in love. It was a calculated risk.” Father defends his actions. “The wine was a bargain to allow Sala to come with my daughter to Arvandor. You would not have released her into my wife’s care if they were merely dating.”

Miahna stares at the stone blankly for a moment, then looks at my mother. “I don’t suppose we would have, no. As betrothed, it was a given that they would travel together. Were they merely dating…” She’s thoughtful for a moment. “While I may have considered it, my husband would not have let her go, no.” She frowns. “Was it that important that my Sala be with her beloved on this trip?”

“The number of suitors that were lining up to offer my daughter a hand, yes,” Father replies. “Most of our people consider my daughter to be nearly an adult. The naming ceremony doesn’t happen before the age of twenty-five. She was a prize catch to anyone under a hundred.”

“Your people believe Laurëafanya is nearly an adult?” Miahna gasps.

Mother nods. “Elves before their naming ceremony are nothing but children. They would not have given her much notice. We want our people to respect our daughter for the mature, intelligent, and wise girl she is.

“You’re lying to your people?” Miahna raises her voice.

“Queen Miahna, my wife and I have discussed this. I nearly made the mistake of treating her like a child myself. Then, when I met her in person, I know why my wife asked for it. Laurëafanya received her twenty-fifth-year naming ceremony, as she’s not a child. Her body, her mind, her maturity is far more developed than a fifteen-year-old Elf.”

I sit there quietly. I must have missed something when an Elf gets their Essecarmë. I thought it was puberty… Right, puberty for an Elf doesn’t happen as early as it does for Humans or a Fae!

“So, by naming your daughter, your people believe she’s past her childhood stages, effectively a teen in Elven terms?” Miahna probes.

“Our people have been away from Earth for far too long,” Father says sadly. “Elves can age in decades what Humans age in years. It’s why we have so few children. It can take fifty to a hundred years to raise an Elf to adulthood.”

“Amazing!” Miahna says, sitting down on the love seat by the couch.

“It’s why it’s going to take me fifteen to twenty years to go through my puberty,” I add in. “Meaning that most Elves at our grade level are in their thirties…. Sometimes older, depending on the choice of their parents.” Mother smiles… “So when I have my sweet sixteenth birthday in May…” I suddenly get thoughtful. “You’re going to declare that my milestone year, aren’t you?” Mother nods. “Meaning most of our people will think I just turned fifty!”

Exactly.” Mother smiles.

I look at Mother with a confused frown. “Why?”

“Dearest daughter, do you not want to lead your people back to Earth?” Father probes.

“Yes, I do, but what does that have to do with…?”

“Do you think they will want a child leading them, or a young woman about to become an Arch Druid?” Father interrupts me. I’m quiet for a moment. “Daughter?”

“So, because I was already going into puberty as a human, the ritual moved me to an Elven equivalent? So instead of a fifteen-year-old Elven girl, I was transformed into a thirty-year-old Elven maiden, the equivalent of a human teen?” I look up in shock.

Which is why it killed you… Ageing that fast took too much of a toll on your body.” Mother says sadly. “Had Master Phan not been there to revive you, you would not be here today, none of my healing spells worked, he used some sort of life spell I’d never seen before.

“It was a wish, not merely a spell,” I mumble.

Sala suddenly holds me tight. “The ritual killed my beloved?” she whimpers.

Only for three minutes, even by human standards, that prevented her from brain death.

“Did you know that would happen?” Miahna says with more calm than her face is showing.

We had only ever performed the ritual on an adult, no we did not know that would take such a heavy toll on our daughter. Had I known I would have tried a different method of racial transformation?

“A differently racial transformation wouldn’t have resurrected your bloodline though…” Miahna probes.

No, it would not. She would be an Elf, but it would not have stripped her past human ancestry, she would merely be an Elven descendant, much like a distant cousin. The ritual was aimed at making her my daughter, and restarting my family line. It was a tremendous risk.” Mother says sadly. She looks up at me with hope and apology. “Know, dearest daughter, that I wanted this as much as you did. And look at you! You are powerful beyond any Human or Elf your age!

“Because I’m developmentally a thirty-year-old Elf! Is that why people say I’ve changed so much? I’m not a human teenager anymore?” I narrow my eyes. “Will you tell this to emenya Ashanna?”

No, I don’t think your mother will understand. You are still her little girl.” Mother replies.

I lay my head back against the couch. “Just when I thought I was understanding what you put me through…”

“We suspected your ritual had aged you. This is why we told our people that you had been lost in the mortal realm and finally coming home. It wasn’t until the tests came back from your school did we realize what had happened to your body.” Father replies.

I frown, still looking up at the ceiling. “You got a copy of those?”

“They insisted, as they had no accurate measure for your vitals,” Father replies.

“So, do they know that I’m physically a thirty-year-old Elf and not the fifteen-year-old girl they thought I was?” My father is about to say something. “Does that change how I’ll be seen here on Earth?”

“No,” Father replies. “You’ll likely still be considered a fifteen-year-old teen. Your birth date defines your age on your world, not your physical maturity. Know that our people will never treat you like a child.”

“Why does my life have to be so complicated?” I ask aloud.

This doesn’t change who you are, dearest daughter, just how our people perceive you.” Mother comforts me.

“This doesn’t go out of this room,” I say, looking at Mother. “No one else would understand.”

“No one else will understand what?” Sala’s father asks as he comes down the stairs. “You are all being so loud this morning!” he frowns.

“Sorry, my parents just told me something new about my Elven development. It took us by surprise.” I give him a disarming smile.

“Will it affect your relationship with Sala?” He gets concerned.

Sala and I look at each other a moment, smile, then look at him. “No Appa.” We say together.

He looks at us, surprised for a moment, then smiles. “You two are one mind sometimes… Pancakes?”

“Yes, please!” Sala and I say excitedly, causing him to chuckle.

“Very well, blueberry pancakes to cheer the family up!” he announces.

“I should go help him before he destroys my kitchen,” Amma says, suddenly alarmed. “We’re not done with this conversation.” She glares at Mother, then wanders off.

Why is she so concerned about your father cooking Sala?” Mother probes.

“Appa’s a messy cook, which is why she doesn’t let him in the kitchen often.” Sala giggles.

“How many more surprises will we have like this?” I ask Mother.

I believe this was the last one, was it not my husband?

“The last one that we are aware of.”

“You know, that’s not entirely reassuring…” I frown. “But I suppose there’s no sense in being angry about it. I am still disappointed that you lied to me about my marriage. My relationship with Sala is important to me.” Sala pokes me and I smile at her lovingly. “To both of us.” She kisses me. My expression changes. “Don’t mess with it again. I won’t be so forgiving next time.”

Husband, no.” Mother says before my father gets upset at my giving an order. “We will not meddle in your relationship, dear daughter. We want your love, not your ire.

My face softens. “I do love you both. You have been so good to me. Just let me make some discoveries on my own?”

“Very well.” Father’s voice is softer. “I should let you go. Love you all.”

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