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Prompt:
Tamson gazed around the gardens thoughtfully, brushing by a flower every once in a while and rubbing the soft petals lightly against his lips. Ah, how he loved that feeling… the daffodil fairy smiled sheepishly at his thoughts, they seemed so utterly random at the moment.

In truth, Tamson was only buying time to stay away from the court. As far as he had seen it was horrible, people were everywhere and everyone seemed to be examining everyone else with a dispassion that made Tamson shiver.

Just as he was examining a rather lovely rose in the garden, a young Seelie ran up to him.

“Lord Jareth has called for you.” He said, fidgeting before nodding at Tamson and then running off; no doubt to relay another message.

Tamson held up a hand as an after-thought as if he might call the Seelie back to him but then sighed and gave up.

Where was the goblin king anyway? And… how was Tamson expected to find his way through this intimidating party?

The fairy let out a harsh sigh before walking out of the gardens and straight into the large main room where it seemed everyone was either talking, dancing, or drinking. Tamson drifted through the ballroom with barely another thought, he was just another vivid, masked, color making his way through the crowd.

“Hello there.” A cool voice that reminded Tamson of water trickling in a brook sounded as a slim female elf with bright auburn hair and delicate features walked up to him. “You look out of place here.” The elf informed him coolly, smiling.

Tamson paused. “Well, perhaps I am.” He replied, allowing his eyes to dart around the court uncertainly. “Ah… I beg your pardon, but have you seen Lord Jareth anywhere?” He added in an abstracted tone of voice.
The elf’s silken laugh rang out at the abruptness of the fairy before her. “Well, at least your in finery that’s well enough for a court.” She said, gesturing to his bright clothing; sleeves and a flower-like, almost-skirt that was folded extravagantly. “And.. Lord Jareth?” The elf raised one delicate brow. “No, I don’t think so…”

Tamson allowed a translucent wing to twitch as he listened to the elf, he knew there was a joke intertwined in that. Fairies always worth clothing such as his at the moment, while Arkya was decked out in an expensive-looking green gown that was highly intricate and full of hidden designs. The daffodil fairy shrugged it off to glance at the elf again. “Ooh… great.” He moaned, in obvious horror.

The elf frowned, “Oh, maybe Chelle knows where he is. I’m Arkya by the way,” She adding winking. “I expect your name in return.” She added in a scolding voice to Tamson, who looked as if he were going to start and run off like a maniac as far away from Arkya as possible.

“I’m Tamson.” He replied with his tight-lipped frustration clearly showing.

“Tamson! That’s a pretty name!” Arkya exclaimed with a grin. “Anyhow, Chelle!”

Tamson winced as the chatty Arkya raised her voice. He watched in slight surprise as a tall kitsune with drab brown hair, bright blue eyes, and an overall clothing choice of ’black’ suddenly parted the crowd to walk towards them, looking none too contented.

“What is it?” Came the deep voice. The male kitsune was a few inches taller than both Arkya and Tamson and in truth he looked as if he’d be happier to kill something than to talk to them.

“Chelle!” Arkya cried with a grin. “My friend Tamson here needs to find Jareth.” She said, trying to whisper confidentially as she brushed back a strand of her auburn hair.

Chelle glanced at Arkya dryly before taking inventory of Tamson. “Ehh. He’s in the throne room.” The kitsune said begrudgingly.

Arkya’s vivid green eyes lit up as she heard Chelle speak. “Perfect!” She cried, gazing at Tamson happily.

Tamson nodded slowly as Chelle and Arkya spoke together. He then peered at Arkya curiously, “Can you take me there?” He asked, feeling out of place.

Arkya’s smile grew even wider as she glanced from Tamson to Chelle. “Yes! Come on! You too, Chelle!” She cried enthusiastically.

Chelle looked as if he were on the brink of refusing, but walked on slowly when Arkya beckoned him impatiently. “She always like this,” He informed Tamson through gritted teeth.

Arkya’s face darkened as she looked back at the two. “ I heard that, Chelle!” She complained.

Tamson surmised that Arkya and Chelle were probably together then, what a strange couple, yet… it seemed to work. He smiled weakly up at Chelle before squeezing through the multitudes of fae to follow behind Arkya as closely as possible.

Soon the trio entered a large room, not unlike the one they’d been in before. There were still many people here, but Tamson could discern that there was something surrounded by the chatty swarms of fae.

“That’s the throne up there.” Said Chelle gruffly as he took inventory of where Tamson’s eyes wandered. “Relax… I haven’t ever heard of Lord Jareth biting.”

Tamson glanced up at the kitsune, who’s face had taken on a lighter, less gruff side. The fairy smiled uncertainly back at Chelle before looking to Arkya.

Arkya smiled brightly up at Chelle before adding to Tamson with a wink, “Well, you never know.”

Tamson looked at the crowd of people skeptically before nodding to Chelle and then Arkya who in turn nodded back. It was a silent thank-you, but actions had as much meaning as words did. Perhaps their paths would cross again someday. It was always a possibility.

Tamson was pulled from his reverie of thought as he looked up and realized that both Chelle and Arkya had disappeared into the crowd.
With a surprising confidence Tamson shouldered his way through the dense thicket of fae-folk before stopping before Jareth’s throne. The daffodil fairy then bowed deeply to the host of the ball. “You sent for me, your highness?”

Poem: Daffodils
Author: William Wordsworth

wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:-
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.