The Captured Queens Go to Tea

          Enter Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons and Theseus’s prized bride.  

          Her eyes fell to the scene before her, a beautiful garden at night with its flowers in the full bloom of summer. The sparkling city of Athens glittered by torchlight on the hills below as she took her seat at the white-painted, iron lattice table for two. She grinned, letting her long, dark hair fall free from its restrictive braids. She turned her smile to the two porcelain teacups set before her and the still empty seat across from her. Her tea companion would arrive shortly.

          And in the next moment, at the speed of a thought, brought on a warm summer’s breeze and dancing pollen, the Fairy Queen, Titania, appeared in the seat opposite the Amazonian Queen. The Fairy Queen’s shining blonde hair, as if spun from the finest gold, curled freely on the breeze, falling long past her waist. She grinned at Hippolyta, lifting the cup in front of her.

          “To queens,” she toasted.

          “To queens,” Hippolyta echoed, and the two drank.

          “So, how do you fare, Hippolyta, wife to her captor?” Titania asked, a sneaky grin coloring her small, rather pointed, face.

          But Hippolyta shot the look back just as good as any fairy might, and laughed.

          “Oh, just as well as you, the wife of a manipulative lord, I imagine,” she answered, barely trying to hide her triumphant grin behind her cup.

          Titania laughed, but the noise was not as mirthful as it should have sounded. She set her cup down upon its little, matching white saucer—both cup and saucer, like the garden, decorated with vines and colorful flowers—and crossed her legs, knee over knee. Leaning back, she shook her head.

          “Oberon has the boy, as I am sure you’ve guessed,” she said with a heavy sigh.

          Hippolyta swore under her breath. Leaning forward, she gave the Fairy Queen a playful slap on the back of her dainty hand.  

          “So he won, even after that rotten enchantment with the ass?”

          Titania nodded. “The changeling child now lives in his court. Oh, but have I mentioned that the boy now favors the shape of the mocking bird?”

          “No, you have not.”

          “Oh, yes! And he just sings beautifully. Day and night. Night and day. Right above Oberon’s bed, which he still keeps separate until his, ahem, necessities yearn for me.”

          Hippolyta and Titania laughed then, keeping it low like wicked giggles of naughty schoolgirls. Finally shaking her head, Titania sighed.

          “Yes, yes. The boy had taken to that shape a little time before the whole debacle with those Athenian children in our forest. And he likes to stay near his master’s, or mistress’s, bed at night—so he feels safe.”

          “Indeed. Well, still such a shame that Oberon got his way, in spite of everything,” Hippolyta chuckled, sipping at her tea.

          “Oh, I agree. But, how is it with your dearest Duke? Won you in battle, didn’t you say?”

          “That’s right.”

          “And all was well with the matches that had been made among the children?”

          Hippolyta grinned. “You should know the answer to that. You were at the wedding play.”

          “Aye, Oberon and I were both there. All seems quite well.”

          “Oh, yes. Theseus talked it out with the girl’s father. No feelings were hurt after all. I never got to thank you, by the way, dear Titania.”

          “Thank me?”

          “Yes. I mean, without you, I would have never known that Oberon was so fond of romances and star-crossed lovers.”

          The two queens laughed and giggled, taking that moment to take another sip of their fine tea. With a sly grin, Titania gestured to the surroundings.

          “The garden is quite fine this year.”

          “That it is.”

          All was still said through knowing chuckles and smiles hidden behind their hands. Finally, when both had quieted themselves, Titania arched a single, pale brow.

          “I do have one question for you, something that confuses me.”

          “Yes?”

          “After a time, when your wedding had finished, you grew quite silent. In fact, you barely spoke a word. Why?”

          “Well, I could say the same for you, Titania! And I imagine it is for the very same reasons.”

          Both queens smiled. After all, what had been left to say? Everything worked out just as they had planned, better. 
        
          Suddenly, from somewhere behind the curtains of vines, trees, and flowers, a decidedly regal voice called out, “Hippolyta, dear! Where have you gone?”

          Hippolyta rolled her eyes. “My Duke calls for me. One last toast?”

          “Yes,” Titania said, raising her cup. “To…ah, our lords.”

          Hippolyta blinked, surprised. “Really?”

          The Fairy Queen smiled wide. “Yes.  To our lords…who only think they are in command.”

          Hippolyta laughed and touched her tea cup to Titania’s. “Indeed!”    

          With that one final drink, Hippolyta stood and quickly re-braided her hair. A warm summer’s breeze danced before her, and Titania vanished. With a slight bow, a rare gift from the warrior Amazon, Hippolyta turned in the direction of her husband’s voice.

          “Coming, my Duke!”









Patricia Puckett graduated from the University of North Alabama with a degree in English, Shakespearean studies securely under her belt. Her works have appeared, or will appear, in volumes published by Pill Hill Press, The Library of the Living Dead, Hydra Publications, Wicked East Press, and Scribblers and Ink Spillers. While she dreams of all things fantastical on a daily basis, she still pops back into reality every now and then to do things such as reading, crafts, and, of course, writing. For additional information, visit her website at patriciapuckett.yolasite.com.