Summary: After being abducted by a Fae, you find yourself a prisoner in his grand, ethereal mansion. He invites you to join him for tea, where you discover why he took you, as well as his plans for you...plans which may have eternal consequences.

PART 1

CW: kidnapped listener; possessive language; threats; fae-typical trickery; extortion; forced marriage; Shakespearean English

Usage:

• OK to record & monetize, as long as you give me credit in the video/audio description as the scriptwriter! I would also love to listen to the recording when it’s done–please send me the link on Reddit! Paywalling is okay; however, if you paywall, you must make it possible for me to listen to the finished product.
• Gender-flipping and small tweaks are okay (e.g., changing pronouns, leaving out curse words), but no large edits are permitted.
• Feel free to use music or insert sound effects if you’d like. Any sound effects given are suggestions–use at your discretion. *Sound effects in bold, set apart by asterisks\*
• Any dialogue or reactions given by the Listener are purely for the benefit of the VA, to help them feel like they have something to respond to while they’re acting. Listener reactions in italics.
• Please let me know if you have any questions!

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SETTING: The Fae Prince’s castle. The Prince is having afternoon tea, when the Listener walks in.

Good morrow, my flower. It’s good to see you up and about. How are you faring?

“Terrible.”

\chuckle** ‘Tis understandable. Passing through the Veil for the first time often tends to muddle the mind, especially for a mortal such as yourself. You needn’t worry—your wits shall fully return to you in time. Won’t you join me for tea? You must be hungry…’tis impossible for your kind to go without sustenance for long, after all.

The Listener doesn’t move.

Why so hesitant, my flower? What, do you think me a spider? Lying in wait until my prey steps close enough to strike? Fear not, my dear. I don’t bite…at least, not in this form.

The Listener stays put.

Come, now. If this is an act of defiance, there’s little sense in it. Join me, and perhaps I can answer some of those questions that are clamoring within you like the wretched Sunday bells. Be not afeared—this is not Hades. Eating from my table will not doom you to an eternity in my realm.

The Listener finally sits down.

There. ‘Tis good to see your common sense prevail. Have whatever you’d like. If nothing appeals to you, just say the word, and I shall send for something else.

\Optional sound effects—pouring tea; gentle clinking of china cups\**

“Who are you? No, wait—what do they call you?”

What do they call me? An apt question, indeed. They call me [insert VA’s chosen Fae alias]. I am the Head of the Middlemist Court. In human terms, you might call me a prince. And, to answer what would doubtlessly be your next question, we are at my manor, in my realm. Look out those windows. Yes, go on. Peer through the glass…can you see it? Yes—‘tis the very same rose garden where we met yestereve.

“What!? Is it a…a portal?”

\chuckle** Not quite. You wouldn’t be transported here simply by stepping inside, if that’s what you’re thinking. After all, you visited the garden quite a few times yourself without leaving the mortal realm, did you not? No…‘tis more akin to a snare than a portal. Sometimes, humans are lucky enough to slip in and out unnoticed. But when they have the misfortune to trip the snare…or else alert the hunter…then, \snaps fingers, chuckling**. Before they know it, they’ve fallen through the crack in the curtain, only to awaken here. So quick do bright things come to confusion.

“But why? Why take us? Why ME!?”

Ah, now you…you are different, my dear. Rarely do I cross into the mortal realm...but I needed to see for myself whether you truly were what you seemed, before any magic took hold. I had noticed the changes to my garden, you see...changes stemming from the other side. Suddenly, the weeds were fewer, the soil was treated, spent blooms were removed. New rosebushes appeared, young and proud…a mortal variety. I hardly dared to let myself believe that a mortal might be caring for my garden. You can only imagine my joy when I found that it was true. Most humans that we catch these days are naught but sanctimonious pirates, focused only on subjugating the land and its kin. But you, my flower…you are not a pirate, but a steward. One willing to give, to care for the earth, instead of merely taking. As soon as you proved your intentions to me, back in the garden, I knew I’d found the one worthy to stand beside me for all eternity.

“What!? You—you don’t mean—you’re not seriously talking about—!?”

Yes, my dear. I speak of marriage. I wish for you to be my bride. You will be my consort, my confidante, my lover…or, if you prefer your human terms, my princess.

The Listener refuses, protesting that they’re human—isn't that a problem???

Hmm? On the contrary, my dear, you being human is a boon. While we Fae can marry amongst our own kind, the politics can get rather...messy. Occasionally, the unrest created by the shifting hierarchies has been known to destroy entire Courts. But with a mortal bride, there is no such risk. You have nothing to fear from my kin. I promise, they shall accept you…and if they don’t, they shall answer to me.

The Listener refuses again.

\dark chuckle** If you were a Fae, this would all be part of the normal courting games…but something tells me you are quite serious. Amusing, that you think you can simply refuse…but you’re forgetting something, my dear. I hold your name…meaning that, until I release you, you are in my power.

The Listener says he’s wrong.

Hmm? I’m wrong, am I? Why, pray tell?

The Listener says the name they gave him was only their nickname-–not their true name.

So, ‘twas only your nickname that you gave me? (laughs) Ah, very clever, indeed! True, a nickname has but a fraction of a given name's power. However, my dear, there is one other thing to consider. If you recall, back in the garden…you offered yourself to me.

“What!? No, I didn’t!”

Oh, but you did. You offered to help me, did you not?

“That was for the garden! I was offering to help with the garden, if you needed it!”

Perhaps, but what were your exact words? (repeats them back to her) “If you want, I’d be happy to help you.” You never specified just what you were offering to help with. And what I need help with is ruling Middlemist. After all, should I have naught but empty air in the seat beside me, as I sit on my throne? Should I be forced to govern, with the whispers of the wind as my sole advisor? No. I need someone to rule by my side. I need you, my flower.

“No! Wait—you can’t get something for nothing. You told me that! If you try and pull that with me, I’ll just demand my freedom in exchange!”

\laughs** A brave attempt! ‘Tis true; according to our laws, you can’t get something for nothing. However…you already told me that you needed nothing in return. Don't you remember? You willingly gave up the chance to receive payment…meaning you can demand nothing from me, my dear.

The Listener starts trembling. “No!...”

Look at you! I can practically hear your mind scrambling, like a trapped rabbit, clawing desperately for a way out! You are clever, my dear; astonishingly so, for a mortal…but you will not be able to outsmart me. Albeit unintentionally, you offered yourself to me, and I accepted. The bargain is struck, and it cannot be undone.

The Listener picks up a table knife, aiming it at him.

(scoffs) Put it down, my dear. Even if that little butter knife could hurt me, I must warn you, my kin and I do not look kindly upon such violent displays. Put it down. Now.

The Listener refuses, spitting hateful words at him. Since words carry immense power for the Fae, this offends the Prince more than anything else that's happened up to this point.

*(dangerous; seething) ...*I would also advise you to hold your tongue. Such words are more fitting for a viper than for my future bride. 'Tis a dangerous game, indeed, to insult a Fae...let alone one of my status.

“And if I don’t!? What are you gonna do, punish me? No punishment could be worse than staying here with you!”

Oh no, my flower. ‘Tis not you I will punish. Rather, it will be another who bears the consequences…someone very precious to you, someone who you had once thought was lost for good.

The Listener freezes, their eyes widening.

That’s right. You weren’t the only one to wander into my garden, my dear. Your miscreant of a brother came first, along with his witless friends. Unlike you, they decided to treat my garden as a tavern…carousing till dawn, tearing up my precious roses with their revelry! For his crimes, I bestowed upon him the ultimate sentence. He now sits in my prison, awaiting his execution.

“NO! No, please!”

And why shouldn’t I, pray tell? He bit his thumb at what we hold sacred! His debt cannot be repaid…unless, of course, someone else were to pay it for him.

The Listener stares at him as his words sink in.

That’s right. If you wed me, I might find it in my heart to have mercy. You promise your life to me, and his life will be spared. That seems fair, does it not?

“No…” The Listener whispers. “P-please…”

‘Tis long past the time for games, my dear. Either way, you shall be mine. But, if you give yourself to me willingly, then your brother will live. What will you choose?

“This…this is some sort of trick! You’re just going to kill him anyway!”

I am many things, my dear, but I am not a liar. ‘Tis both the blessing and the curse of the Fae: we cannot lie. Should we try, our voices fail us. Nor do my words hide a trap—I swear on my first bloom, I will send him back to the mortal realm, alive and well, if you agree to my bargain. Now…’tis time, my flower. Do you truly love your brother, as you claim? Make your choice.

Shaking, the Listener agrees.

(quietly triumphant)…Yet again, I am glad to see your sense prevails. Give me your hand.

\Sound effect—he kisses her hand\**

Ah…your flesh is as soft as a petal on my lips. Fear not, my flower. Our life together will be a happy one, I promise you. I shall ensure you are satisfied…mind, body, and soul. Now, let’s raise a glass to our engagement. To our union…and to you, my flower. My own beautiful rose.