It was dusk and the young woman was still scouring the fields and hills outside her village for the herbs and plants that would serve to heal the villagers' various aches and pains. She made a mental note of what she'd already gathered: a bunch of yellow flowers would help to ease her neighbour's sleep; the white ones could be used to settle upset stomachs.
With a soft sigh, the woman put down her dagger, brushed the stray wisps of dark hair out of her eyes and stretched. She eyed the quickly darkening sky and debated silently whether or not she should venture into the forest in search of the rarer roots hidden beneath its' floors. Eventually her tiredness won out and she decided to return to her home before the sun set completely.
As she gathered up her things, something stirred in the forest. It was but a small, swift movement and whatever had moved barely made a rustle. None the less, whatever it was, it had caught her attention. She stood peering into the thickness of trees and shrubs, hoping against hope that it was nothing but a rabbit. A distinct feeling of unease settled over her and she, being a sensible young woman, decided to make haste and leave. She swiftly picked up her basket and rose to her feet, intending to put as much distance between herself and the now foreboding trees as possible.
Nevertheless, the disconcerting feeling of being watched did not leave her. The wind blew, making her skin goose-bump and the hair at the back of her neck prickle. She picked up her pace once again, but startled when something moved past her so closely she felt the air move. She gasped and whirled around on her heels, looking about anxiously. Her eyes settled on a small form directly in front of her and her hand flew to her breast to cover her racing heart.
"Mearan!", she breathed, "What are you doing here, out so far and so late alone?" She gently reprimanded the little boy who merely flashed a gap-toothed, dimpled smile.
The young woman sighed. "You nearly scared the life out of me, you know!" She held out her hand, "Come. 'Tis getting dark." Instead of taking the proffered hand Mearan grinned wider and held out an apple that he'd been hiding behind his back.
The woman laughed and took the fruit from his tiny fingers. "Thank you, love. I am a bit hungry.", she said before biting into the apple with a crunch. She took young Mearan by the hand and they began their trek back to their small coastal village.
It wasn't long before the young woman began feeling light-headed. Soon she began to have trouble coordinating her movements. Her limbs felt strangely disconnected. Brushing the feeling aside as weariness and not wanting to alarm the small child walking by her side, she said nothing. But, the feeling only worsened. The world blurred before her eyes, her limbs went numb making her stumble along clumsily. When she felt she could go no further without collapsing, she opened her mouth and took in a slow breath to tell Mearan to go get help. Panic surged through her as she found that she could form no words. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, as though it were made of lead.
The last thing she saw before loosing consciousness entirely was Mearan looking down at her, grinning, his shoulders shaking in muted mirth.
"Get her leg! Her leg!" the Hob cried to his companion whom, in turn, shot him an annoyed loom and grumbled, " I always get the heavy end…"
"Stop your whining! We're almost done here!" the other snapped. If anyone had been around to see, they would have been witness to a strange sight indeed. A woman with long dark hair, floating precariously in mid-air before and old abandoned fishing boat. If the witness had had any prowess for magic, they would have then seen two tiny man-like beings desperately trying to hoist the limp dark-haired woman into the boat.
The two beings were in fact Hobs, creatures of the Faery kingdom or wee folk, as many liked to call them. The two Hobs were both dressed in raggedy clothes and both wore red caps atop their shaggy, white-haired heads. If one were so lucky as to get a closer look at he Hobs, one would note their brown and wrinkled skin as well as their wizened faces.
But, there was not a soul about that night to bear witness to that sight. So, with a final shove from both Hobs, their human cargo was dumped unceremoniously into the boat. The two faery men stood on their tiptoes to peek down into the boat.
"Didn't forget to take her voice, did you?" the first Hob asked the second. His companion shook his head and patted the vial at his hip. The first nodded once brusquely.
"Good. Now, help me push the boat out so we can go home." The two struggled a bit more but soon the boat was sailing swiftly out to sea.
For three days and three nights the boat sailed on, with its' cargo never once waking. Despite its' age and state of disrepair, the little fishing boat stayed afloat, even braving a storm on the third night. Surely either the boat or its' passenger had someone watching over them as they reached the opposite shore, just a ways away from the kingdom of Kells, on the third day both still intact. The boat came to a gentle stop on the beach and still the dark-haired, drenched-to-the-bone woman did not stir out of her unnatural slumber. And so they remained for a time before two young men came traipsing along the wet sand.
One was tall, broad-shouldered and had light brown hair with a curl shorn just above his shoulders. He had clear eyes and a peaceful look on his handsome face as he listened to his friend speak enthusiastically about something.
The other was not quite as tall or broad-shouldered. He had dark hair and equally dark eyes. He was not so much handsome as he was striking in his looks. His features were perpetually merry and his eyes glinted mischievously.
The taller, fairer man excused himself to find a dry patch of ground on which to seat himself. His friend, on the other hand, continued to explore the beach, occasionally picking-up an interesting piece of driftwood or seashell washed ashore from the previous night's storm. Soon the sad looking fishing boat caught his attention. Wondering how the boat came to be marooned on the beach on it's own, he strolled over to it in order to examine it thoroughly. As he neared it, his keen dark eyes glimpsed what appeared to be a mound of cloth within the boat. He quickened his pace and his eyes widened as he took in what lay before him.
"Rohan!" he cried out in alarm. "Rohan, quick!" He brushed the woman's hair out of her face and felt her forehead. It was hot, which both relieved and worried him.
"What have you found Angus?" Rohan asked his friend casually, mistaking his urgency for excitement. He jogged toward the boat but when Angus lifted the woman out of the boat and turned to face him, he gasped "Sweet Lugh! Is she…?" Angus shook his head.
"No, but she's burning hot to the touch. This is very strange Rohan…" He trailed off, already heading back the way they came, towards Kells.
"We'll take her straight to Cathbad. Hurry." Rohan said and the two took off at a slow run towards the castle.
A/N: So? What did you think? This is my first fanfic, so I'd appreciate any reviews or comments you have. I take criticism well so don't be shy if you think it's horrible! Please R&R! Thanks:-)