Enchanting, a story of the Faerie Apocalypse for Three-Word Wednesday

Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Elves are marvelous. They cause marvels.
Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror….
-Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett

Alwin was giddy. She’d touched him. She’d brushed her hand over his, and she had smiled at him!

The lady had called herself Titania. When everyone who happened to be nobody at all was claiming gods’ names – there was that thing with “Zeus” in Greece, that thing with “Hera” in New York City, and nobody really wanted to think about the problems with Czernobog in Buffalo – it wasn’t surprising that a beautiful woman would take on a beautiful name. But she wasn’t standing in the center of town declaring her godhead like those nutcases, or trailing fanatic followers like some of the others – Bast. Bast had been a bad case, according to the news.

No, she was just sitting in a bar – some might say “holding court,” but Alwin thought they were snobs. She was just sitting at The Last Dock, drinking beer and smiling that enchanting smile at everyone.

Alwin’s smile faltered. Her gaze had moved on from him – of course, she had other things to thing of, other things to worry about. But she was smiling at Joe from down the street now, and her fingers were brushing over his hand now.

He’d have to get her to look at him again. He’d have to do something to get her attention.

Alwin finished his beer and picked up a pool cue.

for the 3-Word Wednesday prompt here

From the middle of the apocalypse blogged on [tumblr.com profile] faeapoclive and [twitter.com profile] FaeApocLive

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