Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my OC, anything/anyone else belongs to their respective owners.

{A/N}: Made because Nuada's training scene instantly elicited a strong desire to draw him in me. /squeals into sketchbook.

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1. - Watching whilst unknowingly being watched. -

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He blamed it on her eyes.

They were a weird coloration that was possibly inhuman, but she definitely wasn't anything of faerie lore. Her clumsy mannerisms were proof of that, as was the lack of any evidence of glamour. This girl was one of those creatures; a human, he'd concluded with a scowl. He was sure of it.

And yet, as those vivid lavender eyes freckled with copper scanned over his hidden form, Nuada couldn't quite shake off the not-so-human feeling he received upon them unknowingly passing by him. Each day, he kept unintentionally returning as if drawn by them, much to his disdain and annoyance.

He didn't know whether it was because of his curiosity about her strange eyes, or the flipping sensations they gave his stomach. Either way, he didn't like any of it for the simple fact that a human, of all things, was causing his unusual behavior. Even Mr. Wink found it disturbingly odd.

As usual, she was sitting under an massive oak tree that lined the thinnest part of the forest, back rested against its trunk with a large drawing pad settled in her lap. The human was sketching away, those eyes of hers occasionally flicking up just left of his position amongst the thicket of the forest. With his own keen eyes, Nuada saw she bought coloring materials this time, and tilted his head, watching intently as she slid the pencil she'd been using between the wire wrapped about her neck. Then focused on matching the colors of her creation to the view she was modeling it off of.

Though she was human, Nuada had to give her a bit of a positive outlook.

When he first stumbled upon her, he was rather surprised to find a human out enjoying the simplicities of the nature miraculously still clinging on the outskirts of their 'great' cities. It wasn't like he hadn't seen any before…though most of them constantly complained about the weather or the smallest of insects. And he never stuck around to study their mannerisms much more past the complaining, he never had the patience to.

But she was different, he noticed, after spending less time musing over her eyes. She was quiet and seemed quite serene, alone in the sanctity of the trees, only with that pad and a basket of art supplies. No fancy, air polluting and earth disrupting machinery, no group of rowdy friends littering the purity of the wild foliage with discarded trash. In fact, even with those unique eyes, she looked as if she belonged there. With deep mahogany colored hair and skin matching the golden brown leaves beneath her bare feet…

With a sharp scoff, Nuada hastily shook of such thoughts and berated himself. This woman was a human. They had long ago lost their affinity with the earth, and the magical touch and creatures it once held to their proud and greedy quest to take it and reshape everything to fill their bottomless pit of desire, to make it their own. Trading open, fertile lands for cold, cramped steel. And they didn't care that they were killing what once was in the process. He was sure this human was doing the same, in her own way.

"They're all the same…" Nuada muttered under his breath, his grip on the branch of a bush tightening as he glowered at the woman. Through his own thoughts, Nuada had agitated himself, and was beginning to lose the frightening strong interest he found in this mortal. For the briefest of moments, he felt that he was in the right set of mind again, relieved almost.

Then she began singing.

His grip slackened and his contorted features almost instantly relaxed. It was his first time hearing her voice, and now his interest was peaked tenfold. It was nothing like the elf-maidens of his kingdom, but uniquely melodious, soft and gentle, soothing. Surprisingly…beautiful. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying, even with his sharp hearing, and this frustrated him. Something urged him to move closer, but he simply gave an irritated sigh and battled against it. She'd see him. He would just have to settle for staying hidden.

The woman continued to sing, light and wispy sounding, as she stood and stretched out her legs. She did the same with her arms, the pad still in her hands as she stretched them above her head, smiling wide up at her completed drawing. Her eyes almost seemed to glow like amethyst stones dribbled in honey. When she turned to gather up her things, Nuada then moved, carefully and slowly. He knew she was preparing to leave, and this was when he would do the same, waiting for her to tread out- and trip occasionally- of the sparse cover of trees she sat in. Then he would leave to return to his home beneath the Troll Market…and perhaps would just have to option staying there for awhile.

But she did something different this time. To his surprise, she tore the page from her drawing pad and folded it neatly in half, right down the middle.

What is she doing..? Nuada mused, frowning as she proceeded to tack it to the oak tree, slowly lowering himself back down to remain unseen. Did she not want to keep it, after working for so long on it?

The woman stood there a moment longer before running a hand through her dark hair and finally taking her leave. She glanced back at the paper once, then after a few minutes, was soon from Nuada's view, the singing fading with her.

As soon as he was sure she wouldn't return, he hastily made his way to the paper and snatched it from the tree, the tack flying off to the side from the force. His senses had righted themselves now that the human and her strange eyes were gone, and now he was just annoyed and perplexed. What was she thinking, leaving it on a tree of all things? Was it meant for someone? No… In the time he's observed her, he hadn't seen any traces of anyone else. She was always alone. So why leave it here?

Nuada glared off in the direction the woman left, shaking his head as he unfolded the paper. Though fuming over such an odd action, He was curious as to what she had drawn.

"And they use to call us th-"

Nuada froze as he gazed upon the picture, his eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline as his eyes widened in pure shock.

There on the paper, drawn in amazing detail, was an image of him, surrounded by the lush greenery which he thought had hid his presence.