A New Year’s Eve Like No Other
Tags: Storytelling, Fairy Tale, Fiction, New Year, The Rebel Poets Society

A New Year’s Eve Like No Other

A Rebel’s Prompt: A Grand Party.

Photo by Michel Oeler on Unsplash

“No, I don’t want to attend your f***ing zoom party!”

I erased the message, and just hit the “maybe” button instead, knowing full well I wasn’t going to be sitting at the computer, pretending to be happy, tonight, on this New Year’s Eve. The year 2020 was going out with a groan, and I wasn’t even vaguely interested in participating in yet another virtual celebration as if there was anything at all to celebrate anyway.

The chiming clock sounded at 10:30. I decided there was no reason to wait to open the bottle of bubbly I had shipped to me, weeks ago, for this evening. All of the admittedly pathetic plans I had tried to make had fallen apart. The woman I was hoping to start dating didn’t want to risk the drive to my place. My other girlfriends were all completely stuck in the mud and had never been an option. I wasn’t even babysitting for the grandkids, which had been canceled when the little girl got the sniffles.

I put on my favorite, cozy, pajamas. There was a fire in the fireplace and I had gathered a few snacks for the evening. It was clearly time to start drinking. At least it was good champagne.

By 11:30 I was staring at the painted flowers on the empty bottle and wondering how they got them to look so real as I pulled the cozy sage-colored blanket around me on the couch. I began to drift off to sleep, then awoke with a start.

It was cold and windy, and it was starting to snow. How did I end up outside? I looked down and noticed I was wearing a green dress the color of grass, that I didn’t actually recognize. My legs were covered in coppery colored stockings that almost looked like snakeskin, which explained why I felt so cold, but nothing explained what I was doing out here in the first place. I was wearing boots — the first thing that made any sense at all — made of a soft dark brown leather.

I take it back about the boots making sense. They had tiny little bells on them and they sparkled.

Looking around to get my bearings, I saw there was a bench close by, and on it was what looked like a blanket. I was starting to shiver, so I walked over and picked it up. As soon as I touched it I realized it was a fine wool cloak, with a brown collar and buttons. It went with the dress I was wearing very nicely. I’m not sure why that mattered, but it seemed like it did somehow.

When I placed the cape on my shoulders, I instantly felt warmer. I also felt a little dizzy and sat down on the bench.

The sound of water drew my attention to a nearby stream. Suddenly a tall man, dressed in skin-tight pants and a shirt that was as thin as my stockings appeared.

Photo by Joey Nicotra on Unsplash

“We’ve been waiting for you, my Queen.”

His voice was deep, and of such a timbre that I felt it in my chest. I started to ask him what was going on, where were we and why was he calling me his Queen, but he had already turned and begun walking towards a nearby hill. I followed because it seemed like the right thing to do, and in any case, a quick look around had yielded no other places to go, in what was beginning to whip up into quite a snowstorm.

Then things got really weird.

As suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone. He seemed to have simply vanished into the hillside.

I moved closer and could hear the sound of voices, musical voices that were not quite human; voices that made me want to lean into the trees. I got a little closer still, and then gasped as a delicate hand with long slender fingers reached out and grasped me by the wrist.

“Morgaine, what are you waiting for? Aalton is already at the festival.” The hand was attached to a very fae young woman, dressed in shimmery blue layers of silk. She pulled me into the trees and the earth dissipated around us like smoke, forming back into the solid ground behind us.

We emerged into a New Year’s party, or really parties, that definitely qualified as a “rockin’ New Year’s Eve.” To the left, there were giant fountains of champagne. The fountains were decorated with anemones, and the entire tableau seemed to be from a time apart from the year that was ending. Perhaps I had entered a faerie Belle Époque, an otherworld where there has been no pandemic; where people still party like there is no tomorrow, where they dress up and dance and laugh with glee and more.

In fact, the further I looked past the fountain, the more joyful the party seemed to be. There was a live band and couples and threesomes and moresomes were dancing to the throbbing beat. I saw several groups peel off from the dance floor and slide behind some sheer curtains.

It looked like that room was where the real fun was happening.

I forced myself to turn to the right, where a whole different party was taking place. Now I was looking at table after table with a feast, beyond which, people were sitting in large and small groups.

“This meal looks fit for a king,” I thought to myself. “Or a queen, I added.”

As if on cue, Aalton appeared. “My queen, what would be your pleasure?” he asked. Then he added, “Aerwyna said she found you standing outside. I am sorry I rushed ahead without you. Let me make it up to you!”

Then he looked at my boots, which had experienced some minor damage when I followed him in the woods. “Oh, I really am sorry! Please allow me to take care of these.” He quickly removed my boots and handed them to someone who had silently appeared by his side with a pair of elegant slippers.

Time stopped. I ate sparingly but well, rolling my tongue around tastes that were new and yet hauntingly familiar. I drank champagne and danced with men and women, and some who were perhaps neither, or maybe both. I found my way to the other side of the curtains and was rewarded with a series of hot tubs and pools, saunas, and massage tables.

I remember lying naked on a massage table with Aalton on one side and Aerwyna on the other. They were saying something about they hoped I would remember them this time and come back soon.

And then I awoke on the couch.

I felt uplifted and hopeful. I realized it must have been a vivid dream, and I laughed. “Wow, that sure wasn’t on my 2020 bingo card!”

On the floor, near where I was seated, there were a pair of soft brown boots with a tiny patch on one of them. I picked up the one that had been repaired and closed my eyes. I could feel the touch of a soft kiss on my neck, her long blonde hair caressing my back and shoulder. My back remembered the strength of his hands kneading the muscles until they were soft and pliant.

I whispered into the air, “I won’t forget you.”