Paula's Prompt: Quartz's Fairest

On November 22, 2017, P.T. Wyant posted as her Wednesday Words prompt 'a child hears the voice of their dead father/the problem is their father isn't really dead'. (To see these prompts, go to ptwyant.com).

Inspiration struck me concerning one of P.T. Wyant's favorite characters of mine from 'Fairest'. He keeps nagging for a story of his own. Here's a little hint about what may have happened to Quartz, the deceased dwarf from Fairest. (Fairest is my f/f fantasy fairytale, available in Nine Star Press's Once Upon a Rainbow at  https://ninestarpress.com/product/once-upon-a-rainbow-volume-one/ .

“Fairest…”

The nickname of her past self made the princess bride groan in her sleep, shuddering in the arms of her sleeping beauty. 

She’d only glimpsed a part of her past in the cottage, her Rose, nor had she tried to pry any deeper into her bride’s past. 

Briar was the name her Rose had given her, a name she’d accepted with her whole heart. 

Once upon a time, she’d had another nickname. 

She’d hated the name Blanche, which her father had inflicted upon her. It had only sounded less ugly on the rare occasions when Oriana had used it. 

She’d abandoned the name entirely when she’d taken refuge with her seven dwarves. 

Not that it had been any pleasanter to be called the fairest of them all. Not until Quartz explained it. 

“True fairness has nothing to do with your physical beauty. As far as my brothers and I are concerned, you’ve earned the title.”

How she’d longed to weep at that moment! 

Quartz hadn’t been about to let her. His natural gruffness would only allow so much sentiment to intrude on his daily existence. 

“Right! So if I call you, saying ‘Oi, Fairest!’, you’ve got to answer me.” He worked his bushy eyebrows into a serious expression, even though his eyes twinkled. “Understand?”

She’d smiled right back, thinking it was a joke. 

Briar never dreamed he’d actually call to her from beyond the grave. 

Only she was. In a dream. 

“Oi, Fairest!” She could almost hear Quartz’s meaty fists pounding on the insides of the crystal coffin, which had been her prison for a century. “You made me a promise, so you’d better be listening, lass!”

“Quartz?” She rolled over, disturbing Rose, hearing her princess’s soft murmur of distress. 

Rose had forgiven her for far worse. Hopefully she’d forgive her Briar for this. 

“Listen to me, Fairest, don’t you go blaming yourself for what happened to this daft old dwarf, do you hear me?” Quartz thumped on the walls of his uncomfortable bed for good measure. “It’s all that bloody 

“Bloody sprite?” Briar murmured, caught between dream and waking. “Quartz, what are you talking about?” 

“This sprite!” 

Briar blinked to see a little man perched upon her former coffin, kicking his stockinged feet up. The bells on each of his pointed slippers tinkled when he did. 

“This sprite has a claim on that daft old dwarf in the coffin!” The little man half sang, raising his head to sniff at the air. “No calling on witchy daughters for help, my dear Quartz! You’re in my heart, you’re in my book, and now we’ll never be apart!” 

This seemed familar, the singing, the possessive manner…the little man reminded Briar oddly of Oriana. Her former love, the jealous queen. 

Jealousy. Briar focused her dream vision upon the sprite, who felt less like a person and more like a breeze, a thought, something which might fade away if she blinked. 

“Oh, no, little witch!” The tiny man shook his head, causing another bell at the end of his floppy red cap to jingle. “You left this daft dwarf for dead, laid him to rest in this coffin.” He wagged his finger in reproval. “Foolish witchling, you’ve no right to take him from me.” A flicker of pain sparkled in one bright eye. “You never did. Now wake up and go away!”

“Wait!” Briar cried, recognizing the pain of that small, pinched face, the loneliness in his taunt, but it was too late. 

She stirred in Rose’s arms, sleep and the dream retreating from her. 

She opened her look to gaze into her princess’s blue ones. 

“You said his name.” Rose lifted a hand to touch Briar’s cheek. “You were calling out for him. Again.”

“Actually, Quartz was calling to me.” Briar captured Rose’s fingers and pressed them to her cheek. The feel of her princess’s flesh against her own released the truths hidden in her heart as always. “I answered him as I once promised.” 

“Do you think he isn’t dead?” 

Rose’s question stirred a long dormant hope, which many others had nearly laid to rest. 

“Of course he’s dead.” Opal had scolded Garnet once for cherishing the same hope, never knowing their princess turned witch was spying on the two of them from the nearby trees. “You may not want to believe it, but you’ve got to let go. We all do. No amount of grieving will bring our brother back.”

“I’m fortunate I have no whiskers to pull out,” Briar murmured. “Otherwise, I might be as ragged looking as poor Garnet.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” The corners of Rose’s full lipped mouth rose, softening her rounded cheeks into a smile. “Perhaps we should put such worries to rest?”

Briar stiffened at her words. “Why do you mean?”

“Perhaps it’s time we visited Quartz’s grave?” Rose raised herself to look her bride straight in the eye. “You can see for yourself if he’s truly at rest or trapped in some kind of enchanted sleep.”

Her simple declaration of what had lurked around in the back of Briar’s mind, unable to express itself stunned her. 

She’d been so haunted by guilt, so certain she’d killed Quartz. 

As an evil witch, she’d worked her magic within the fairy rings and cobwebs of the Forest of Tears, keeping a respectful distance from the coffin where the closest thing she’d ever had to a father lay. 

If Briar was to open that coffin, what would she find?

“I’ll go with you.” Rose looked straight at her with clear, fearless blue eyes. As always, her princess was willing to offer her strength, to carry Briar when she weakened. 

How she struggled to be worthy of such strength in turn. 

“No, my beauty.” Briar pressed her lips against the soft hand held against her face. “I need to do this by myself. I can’t explain why, not yet.” Unable to find the words, she gazed into her princess’s eyes, letting her own emotion fill hers, blurring her vision. 

“If you need to do this by yourself, I won’t stop you.” Rose didn’t release her hand. “Just remember I’m here for you when you’re ready to share this burden.”

“Always.” Briar kissed each one of her princess’s fingers, marveling once more at her fortune in finding this woman. 

Only once before had someone accepted her so completely. Only once had someone let her, despite the reservations of everyone around him. 

Briar couldn’t abandon him. Not if he needed her.