"Mmm..." Leona quietly hummed to herself a jaunty tune from her youth. She could usually remember it fondly. Along with all the places she would hum it. An old boggart tune about a fairy who tore off her wings to be with a boggart. Lovely little tune, despite the gruesome lyrics that had been lost to time. She would hum it while hauling lumber or casting out her net, usually. And when she hummed it she could smell the river and the aged oak, the fresh-cut trees and woodworking.
Of course all of those fond memories were clouded by the sweet cherry wine in her system. They put it on sale around this time of year. A big romantic drink. Fortified with a few old nymph brewing secrets to make sure you and your lover would be very into it by the time you were two glasses in. Aged to perfection. Since once cherry basically constituted a bottle.
Oddly enough the aging process drew from a few old necromancy rituals that would age the body into nothing.
Meanwhile she had Simon saddled against her chest, taking in her aura as she drunkenly embraced him. And it really was an embrace.
To Simon, with his already diminutive stature, Leona was a sort of encompassing force. Smaller than Lilith and capable of interacting with him on a slightly more socially intimate level, but still large enough to dwarf his very being with her sheer size, wrapping her arms fully around him and pulling him closer. Her lovely curves wrapped around his body a bit and she hummed airily to herself as he sat suspended in the air, bound by her immense strength and sheer delight.
Leona herself had a mind split in two about her actions. For one thing, she was drunk. She could always take being drunk due to the sheer mass of her system, but it also took a lot to get her drunk. She would disregard the glass and drink straight from the source.
And she longed for a bit of contact. After all, her size had sometimes done her no favors in the past. Another drawback to being who she was was the sheer oddity of her physical form. She stood head and shoulders above most mountain nymphs, and at regular nymphs and brownies rarely came up past her waist due to her long set of legs. With no magic she had to find other methods of making money to support her parents, who themselves found themselves victim to the economic system set in place by the fairies, where land now belonged to the government as much as it did to the farmers who spent generations upon it.
All that time spent hauling lumber had separated her from her friends. She recall an old childhood pal by the name of Abby. Always so pretty with this set of curly brunette locks and fair complexion. She wasn't all that great with magic but she was smart. And eventually a find nymph nobleman came by and swept her off her feet. She now lived in some mansion down south.
Those were the exits. The way out. Magic could get you better jobs in the city. Which would get you more coin for your family to finally pay off the fairies or move to the city yourself. Marriage was another option. You get the promise of economic stability with love as a nice bonus.
When you're twice the height of the men who come through and possess no magic...
Not that she would let it show. But she did long to get a little lovey-dovey with her social inhibitors taken off.
The second half of her mind spoke out to care for Simon. Poor brownie boy had once again slipped into a cocoon of self-indulgent woe after consuming a few glasses of wine.
It was about love this time. Makes sense. Tis the season for romance. Leona was curious what happened in his past to scare him away from love. And she was surprised how accurate her prediction was. Poor guy had a lot back there, didn't he?
Turns out he used to be smitten with a fairy girl when he was very young. Went into the forest and picked her the biggest rose he could find. When he was about to round the corner and give it to her he found she was already interested in another fairy boy in the neighboring village. Then they flew off and he was left grounded, watching them leave.
It wasn't much. But Simon mentioned thinking about "what a fool I must have looked like" and decided love just wasn't for him. And so he spent the next decade out of romance, now sitting before Leona with a glass of cherry wine.
He couldn't decide who to blame, though he kept switching between himself and his father as the primary suspects. In the school of thought that was Malcolmism, an unofficial and not-too-widespread philosophy pioneered by Malcolm Collins, Simon's father, when in the presence of a mistake or error you are involved in, as a Malcolmist you can only blame one person.
He sighed, looked up out the window at the falling rain. "We're only here briefly. So...what if we fuck it up?"
Already coming hot off the heels of a rather messy revelation between him and his vampire friend back at school, Leona could see he needed a bit of a pick-me-up. She couldn't always just monologue and explain his problems away. But she would do the best she could. For his sake.
So she gave the boy a smile. And pulled him upward towards her for a hug. An all-encompassing warm hug as a bridge between the two.
They both needed this.
Gonna be honest. Writing's a little confused here. As well as the method of storytelling. There's a bit two much exposition and explanation for my liking.
Sort of fleshing out Leona's motivation a bit. The main four sort of have their own issues based upon their age, which is nice for dynamics and variety. Claire's a child, Simon's an adolescent, Leona's an adult, and The Outsider's an elder. You can sort of compose age-specific issues and conflicts that happen to coincide with their character.
Or something. I dunno. I'm tired.
Happy whatever the fuck.
No romance here.