Arizona, The United States, Present Day

Magic had a high range of versatility; however, a mute function against fellow fairies wasn't one of them. At least not for Sindri. Paloma hadn't stopped chatting since Storm presented the hockey stick, and Sindri was ready to cut off her ears and mail them to her friend.

After ensuring no one was paying attention, Paloma magically gathered her stash of lost teeth, tucking them away into a hidden pouch. The very idea of handling someone's bloody denticle made Sindri shudder. There was no telling where those mouths had been, and frankly, she didn't want to know.

"Are you gonna call him?" Paloma had demanded after finishing her work. By the way she bounced and giggled, one would think she was the woman Storm had asked to dinner.

"I don't know yet," Sindri hedged, looping her purse strap over her shoulder and grabbing the stick as she led the way to the exit. Most of the spectators had cleared the arena, with only a few stragglers hanging behind to chat or wait in line at the bathrooms. A metal grate already sealed off the concession stands while staff moved throughout the facility with a cleaning cart, slumped shoulders, and slow steps.

Paloma huffed once before running ahead, blocking the path to the most direct exit. "What do you mean, you don't know? A beautiful man — a professional athlete — has asked you on a date." Leaning closer as an elderly couple trudged past, she whispered, "You were totally into him. I could tell."

A giggle bubbled inside Sindri's throat as she fought to keep a straight face. "I think you were the one ogling him," she teased, refusing to acknowledge Storm wasn't hard on the eyes or that maybe he had a nice smile. She hadn't committed that cute little dimple to memory or secretly wished his backside wasn't covered by so much clothing and gear as he walked away. Nope. Easier to turn it around on the fangirl.

Paloma smirked and looped her arm through Sindri's. "Guilty as charged, and completely unashamed. But this isn't about me; you're the one who needs to fall in love to break that curse."

"You make me sound like one of those fairytale princesses." Minus the fact Sindri wasn't underage or rushing to kiss a stranger in an effort to find Prince or Princess Charming.

The pair exited the building into the mild January air. The rain had been relentless, bringing down the temperatures, but never enough to freeze. Here in the desert though, people bundled themselves in thick hoodies while darting to the parking lot without the umbrellas they'd likely forgotten to keep in their cars.

As they kept dry beneath the overhang, Paloma uttered a wistful sigh. "Well, even among fairies, you do seem to bring home more animals than most. One might consider that a standard princess trait."

Sindri laughed. There was no denying she attracted wildlife of every variety that somehow seemed to follow her into the Fae realm. Rín, that fox she'd named Mischief, and many others. But a princess? "I think that's the only criteria I've met. I'm fresh out of fairy godmothers and evil stepmothers. Oh, and I'm totally not royalty, and neither is Storm."

"He's hockey royalty," Paloma insisted. "It counts."

Ever the romantic, Paloma could spot a match between a bird and a fish. But for once, Sindri didn't mind the optimism she'd lost over time. While she didn't think she had a type of man or woman, Storm had so far impressed her with his mild manners and athleticism. There'd also been a brief spark — probably static electricity from brushing skin — but it had been nice and enough to catch her off guard.

Should she call him? If she asked Paloma, her bestie wouldn't hesitate to encourage the match. Then she'd fly to the nearest rooftop and shout it to the city. Thayer, on the other hand... well, he'd never approved of any of her trysts; he'd always said her partners weren't a good match before proving Sindri right. Sooner or later, her lovers left the earth while she remained behind.

Thunder rumbled overhead as the rain increased in intensity, forcing the women to huddle against the wall. Wind sprayed water in their faces and clung to their hair, gathering in fat droplets until they slid down Sindri's back. Wiping her face, Sindri changed the subject and asked, "So how do you want to do this? Find a portal or call a rideshare service?"

Paloma scoffed before fishing a tiny pouch from her purse and waving it in front of Sindri's face. "I don't know why you utilize human methods of transportation when we have more efficient means to get around."

The wings were a pain to fit into a car, and like all fae, Sindri didn't enjoy the sensation of keeping them contained. Hiding the appendages wouldn't do permanent damage per se, but keeping them confined longer than a few hours led to muscle spasms and a tension migraine from the base of her neck until it spread to her shoulders and the spot behind her eyes.

If she traveled in a car, her wings needed to be free — much like unclasping a bra at the end of the day to let her breasts breathe. And revealing herself to humans was out of the question. Unlike children, who were pure, adults had to rationalize everything into a scientific explanation. Sindri didn't need another reminder of humankind's destructive nature.

Despite the inconvenience though, Sindri didn't mind. She couldn't break her curse if she didn't give herself the opportunity to be around people. "It's not so bad once you get used to it," she finally said with a shrug. "Walking is good for the mind and body."

Paloma rolled her eyes as she grabbed Sindri's hand and led her around the corner. The moment no one looked their way, she dropped Sindri's hand and poured a small amount of glittering pink and violet dust into her palm. Then, she blew it toward the wall where a shimmering portal materialized, transparent over the solid barrier. To a human, the facing appeared normal, visible only to the supernatural or animals with very good instincts.

Stuffing the pouch back into her purse, Paloma once again looped her arm through Sindri's, and they walked through together. One moment, they stood on a rainy sidewalk in Tempe, and the next, in Sindri's very dry, warm living room in Scottsdale across the valley.

Wasting no time, Paloma clicked her fingers, and the overhead lights illuminated the room while a delicate pair of light green wings with a champagne pink rim sprang into existence, clashing horribly with the burgundy, green, and orange of the Arizona jersey. Setting her purse on the end table, the other fae plopped onto the ottoman and sighed. "I don't know how you manage to hide these for days on end."

"Just make yourself at home," Sindri said with a laugh before doing the same. The itching between her shoulders immediately ceased, and all the tension left her back. This was better than removing a bra — it was like letting down hair after having it in a tight ponytail for several hours as all the blood flow rushed into the scalp.

A soft meow echoed down the hallway, and Buttons, Sindri's Norwegian Forest cat, bounded into the living room. She cast Paloma a disinterested glance before weaving a figure eight between Sindri's legs. Then she mewled, swiveling her head between the kitchen and her mistress.

Placing the hockey stick and her purse on the coffee table, Sindri went into the kitchen where she kept Buttons' wet food. The cat immediately got beneath her feet, tripping Sindri as she reached to open the cabinet. Wagging her finger, Sindri scolded her. "Oof, bad! No treats if you do that again."

Buttons hissed, but backed away, having learned her lesson the last time Sindri withheld the special food. As she opened the can and dished it inside the bowl, she answered Paloma's question. "Regarding my wings, I don't really get much say in the matter. If I stay in our realm, I remain immortal."

Crossing her legs, Paloma leaned forward. Though she smiled, sadness reflected in her eyes. "Would that be so bad? Everyone adores you, especially the queen. Do you know how hard it is to earn her favor? You'll always have a home with us."

Elvinia had been good to Sindri, doting upon her the way a mother would a child, but sooner or later, the offspring needed to grow up and leave the nest. The queen had understood that, and Thayer in his own way, but Paloma had been born in the mid-1800s, and viewed Sindri as an older sister.

"I love you," Sindri whispered, crossing the room to fold Paloma in her arms. Stale butter from the popcorn mixed with the scent of pumpkin spice and cinnamon as they hugged, and she soaked it all in because this young fae would always be her family. Someday, Paloma would have to move on without her. If Sindri had any regrets, it was the knowledge she'd break at least one heart when she left them forever.

Speaking and feeling the words did nothing to change Sindri's condition. Loki never specified the relationship parameters but didn't appear to consider platonic affection part of the criteria in her quest to find true love. Not that Sindri expected anything else; she'd uttered the words several centuries ago to a child she'd adopted while she'd lived in Finland. Erik had grown into a fine young man, running his own smith and marrying a nice local girl. Once it became harder to explain her ageless appearance, Sindri had disappeared into the mountains, watching her found family thrive from afar. She even loved Elvinia as a mother, but it seemed nothing short of romantic love would break her curse.

When they broke apart, she glanced at the hockey stick and puckered her lips. Paloma had asked if Sindri tired of her curse. The honest answer was yes. She'd made the best of it and pretended to be fine, but eternity was too long for anyone to live. Emotions — good and bad — dulled over time, wearing everything down until only apathy existed.

Something else she'd learned though; was in a religious sermon she'd watched during a bout of boredom and curiosity where the pastor spoke of a man and a tree. Every day, the man asked God to remove the tree from his yard, yet every time he stepped outside, the tree was still there. It wasn't enough to pray for the removal; God would provide the means, but the man needed to put in the work. In Sindri's case, she needed to do more than reject every man and woman in sight just because they might not be a match.

Sindri closed her eyes and swore in Icelandic under her breath. "I'm so stupid."

"What do you mean?" Paloma asked, making Sindri jump. She'd forgotten she had company.

Taking the stick and turning it over, Sindri examined the strip of paper with Storm's phone number written in scratchy text. "I'm the reason this curse isn't broken," she explained, carefully peeling the tape from the handle. "Loki said 2023, and I assumed the year. Well, what if he had some kind of foresight and predicted I'd turn this into a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

Paloma leaned backward with a groan. "Oh, no... That kind of prank would be in line with what I've heard of him."

The irony. All this time, Sindri had taken the god's word for it, never considering she could have tried sooner. Instead, she'd been the man waiting for the tree to come down. With an inaudible scoff, Sindri said, "Girl, you don't know the half of it. I don't think there's only one soul mate for everyone. That would be implausible because what if someone within the pair dies?" That living person would then be doomed to never find love, and the entire concept had more holes than Swiss cheese.

Understanding brightened Paloma's eyes as her pink lips formed a wide smile. "Oh my gosh, are you actually going to call him?"

Sindri held the slip of paper in the air for her friend to see as she perched at the edge of the couch. "I think I am."

Her melancholy over losing Sindri seemed to fade immediately as Paloma squealed, almost falling off the ottoman in her excitement. She was a permanent ray of sunshine, overcoming even the darkest shadows, especially when romance was involved. "Can you do it right now?"

Sindri laughed and rolled her eyes while stuffing the slip of paper into her back pocket. "No. It's almost eleven o'clock."

"Please, he's probably out celebrating. The night is still young!" On the last word, Paloma sprang to her feet and lunged for Sindri, reaching for her pocket.

Having predicted this, Sindri dodged, hovering half a foot away as she crossed her arms and smirked. "I'll call him tomorrow. I don't want to seem desperate." Which was true. If someone gave out their phone number, the best tactic was to wait a few hours or even the next day. She didn't want Storm to infer the wrong message.

Paloma hurled a small accent pillow at her and pouted. "But I want to be there when you call him."

There was no winning this battle. Paloma would be deeply offended if Sindri didn't acquiesce, but she'd go into fangirl mode and giggle the moment Sindri pressed 'Send.' If she spoke to him, she wanted a clear head and no distractions.

With a heavy sigh, Sindri tossed her hands in the air. "Fine, but I'll do it tomorrow." She lifted her finger to shush Paloma as the other woman bounced in her seat. "If you so much as make a peep while I'm on that call, I'll have your superior put you on Renaissance Fair duty until March where you can dig lost teeth out of the trash and half-eaten food."

Paloma scrunched her nose and curled her upper lip, nodding. She knew when she'd been beaten at her own game. The Ren Fair was one of the worst assignments a tooth fairy could receive, and was usually meted out as a form of punishment.

With that settled, Sindri snapped her fingers, and the television flickered to life. Settling back onto the couch, she took the remote from the table as Buttons jumped into her lap and purred. She stroked the cat's soft fur and leaned against the sofa arm. "What do you say we watch TV before you head back? Then at one o'clock tomorrow afternoon, I'll make the call."

Scooting closer, Paloma rested her head on Sindri's shoulder and hugged her arm. "Okay, but let's watch something happy. No doom and gloom or things blowing up. And no deaths."

Sindri clamped her mouth shut and scratched her nose to hide a grin. Maybe having her watch Little Women had been a mistake. Oh, and Diehard over Christmas. Paloma had complained about both movies, but had sobbed over the former with a promised curse if Sindri ever put on a movie like that again without warning. Clearing her throat, she handed over the remote and said, "Alright, you may choose as long as it's not trash TV or a romcom."

Paloma eagerly clicked through the menu and chose an old Disney movie. Once the opening credits rolled, the women fell into comfortable silence while Sindri pondered that slip of paper burning a hole in her pocket, and she wondered if Storm had even spared her a thought after the game or if she was another person in a long line of women.

There was only one way to find out, and now she was committed to making the call.

Word Count: 2610
Overall Word Count: 12465