Here's the second chapter, which is a little scattered and somewhat unfocused, with the aim of just finishing up something of an introduction. Please let me know if there are any errors (because it was late while writing and uploading this I'm bound to have missed a good few), and I'd definitely appreciate it if you let me know what you think.

Chapter two

Settling in

The cottage was antique, set deep in the heart of the Aal forests and woodlands, close only to a tiny fishing village which was a few miles walk away. Its walls had once been white but had over the years become a filthy greyish yellow, with paint peeling from the stone in numerous places and windowpanes hanging at disgusting angles. The fairies - or none-fairies, as they had now become - sniffed at it with caution, but decided that it was the best they could do. Or, at the very least, Teal decided that it was the best they could do, and nobody dared question her decision on the matter.

Trees surrounded the cottage on every side, for as far as the eye could see, and much to Camelia and Teals’ delight they found themselves keeping company with a wide variety of flora and fauna never before encountered within the palace walls. April, however, was not best pleased by the state of their new home, nor it’s position in the world. The weather here was unpredictable, which she did enjoy, but this was perhaps the only positive aspect of the whole place. Teal had allowed magic, just once, for the creation of a decent array of furniture in the cottage, but even that seemed shabby and decrepit within the damp, worn walls of their new home.

“I’ll look after the baby,” Camelia had sing-songed as soon as they arrived. In fact, she had been saying it since before they had even left the safety of the palace with the child in their arms, so determined was she to get the role of child-minder. Not that April cared much, but the sing-song was irritating.

“And I’ll go and find us some lunch,” Teal stated proudly, brandishing what looked like an empty basket and a picnic blanket. April, glancing around resignedly at the cottage, and let out a sigh.

“I suppose I’ll go and make the beds, or something,” she said quietly, thinking that this was the most suitable suggestion for one with so few skills as herself.

“No! No!” Teal cried suddenly, thrusting her hands into the sky in horror, and waking the baby. A piercing wail cut through the air, and Camelia shook her head dramatically as she hurried inside to calm the child.

“No?” April asked. “Why ever not? What else do you expect me to do?”

“Well, you could do something a little more useful, couldn’t you?” Teal narrowed her eyes at the younger woman and pushed the pair of newly acquired spectacles up her nose a little, shifting the basket from one arm to the other. “How about some home renovations. This place could do with a good spruce, don’t you agree?”

Together they looked at the building in front of them, eyeing the dilapidation with a mix of shame and distaste. The sun was high in the sky now, and light played across the front of the cottage prettily, golden flecks of sunlight swimming across the wooden beam above the door and windows. It made the house look even older.

“What do you expect me to do about it?” April asked, folding one hand onto her hip and frowning. “Short of a paint-job there isn’t much that can be done, is there?”

“Precisely.” Teal smiled, and began to walk away. Confused, April skidded after her.

“Precisely what?” she asked.

“It needs to be painted.”

“And?”

“And you can paint it. I know how you like the artistic side of things, dear.”

April paused, letting Teal move further and further away on her quest with the basket, and then she shook her head.

“But what am I supposed to do about that?” she implored, feeling rather small and foolish. She did not like this place: it was old, it was surrounded by forest, and it was miles from anywhere. It made her feel so very alone. “It’s not like I can just magic the place into repair, not since you have the wands-”

“Hush!” Teal scolded her. “You mustn’t talk about such things.” She glanced around nervously, pulled her basket closer to her chest, and then turned fully to face April, who by this point was close to a confused hysteria. “You’ll have to learn to live like a mortal now, you know. We can’t just get the wands out whenever things get tough. You’ve already yielded to the temptation, and we haven’t even been here an hour! April-”

“But how am I supposed to do these things without any help? I’ve never done anything without magic before, you know that.” She plucked at the skirt of her rough peasant’s dress skittishly, as if to emphasise her predicament.

“Well then, you’ll just have to find a way to do it without magic,” Teal answered forcefully. “I suggest you take some of that chopped wood from the side of the house and cart it to the town by the shore. They shall probably want to buy the timber, and I’m sure with what money they give you you’ll be able to buy some paint.”

April stood in silence, the perfect picture of awkwardness as Teal waltzed off swinging the basket and whistling to herself without another word. She had, it seemed, drawn the short straw once more.

As she headed to the side of the house to fill her wooden cart with the dry logs that had been left by the previous owners of the house - and who knew how long ago that had been now - she heard the princess let out a cry that echoed through the clearing.

“Well,” she muttered to herself bitterly. “I’ve fallen this far, but at least I’m not the one looking after the baby. I think I’d rather die.”

Over the next few months the women settled into their roles as the spinster aunts that they had become. April spent much of her time applying coat after thick, wet coat of white paint to the four walls of the cottage, hoping that by doing so she might be able to get away with not doing anything else. She made her evenings pass faster by teaching herself to bake, losing herself in the measuring, weighing, cooking and tasting of the fruits of the steady, mechanical instructions she had found in an old cookery manual on a shelf and followed to the letter.

Teal, on the other hand, soon declared Camelia unfit to look after the child, claiming that a Fairy of Flora - for what it was worth - should stick to what she was skilled at, which was definitely not raising babies. A vegetable garden, perhaps. Teal then took on the role of carer for herself, seemingly glad to have abandoned her daily trips into the loneliness of the forest to find berries and any other fruit that they could eat.

It was hard work, but eventually things became more routine. Once the cottage walls had returned to their original state of whitewashed repair, and the holes in the thatch above their heads had been duly mended, April found that she had more and more spare time on her hands. In fact, she was often the one volunteering to take a trip into the village, if only so she could have some peace and seek refuge from the constant hassling she received from the others. Camelia always had something to tell her about, some story or slice of gossip that she had read about in one of the many old tomes on the bookshelf in the living area of the cottage, and Teal - as usual - spent much of her time berating the younger girl for any inappropriate behaviour, including the use of too much Fairy Slang.

The fishing village, Merriton, was only small, but it was better than the desolate isolation of the woods. April had been told to keep herself to herself, to not mind what anybody else said and to hold her tongue, but as the months turned into years, she found it harder and harder to keep her promise to the others. She needed to talk to somebody besides those two windbags, perpetually frozen in middle-age, and she found that by discussing even the most trivial things with the people in the village she was getting at least something of a social life.

And as they grew as mortals, developed their skills and family roles, grow also did their ward, young Juliet the foundling child. She was a pretty baby, fair and with a good temperament, and as the months went by she grew into a similarly pretty, healthy young toddler. Despite her current predicament, and her distaste for children in general, April found herself growing rather fond of the child, and even sometimes offering the results of her new-found love of cookery to please somebody other than herself. Juliet loved her ginger cookies, and this made April feel like perhaps there was something in this situation that would leave her able to walk out of all of this with some remainder of self-esteem.

“At least you appreciate me,” she would whisper, handing over another cookie in the shape of a royal crown. “I think you’re the only one around here who does. I sometimes wonder if I’m not only here for the sake of criticism.” And Juliet would smile, gurgle what April interpreted as an agreement, and bite the little diamond of sweet sugar from her treat.

TBC.