I've had this around for awhile, and I thought I'd publish it now since I can read it without wincing. If you're familiar with the Zelda games, you'll notice that the scenery and atmosphere are partly based off of the forests in them. Enjoy!
Kartik yawns deeply and stretches his long arms high over his head. He doesn't know what has roused him from his peaceful slumber, but he can feel the night's magic thrumming within his veins. Armed only with his capable self and the waxing gibbous moon's light to guide him, he strolls deep into the woods, following the will of his feet.
A soft noise freezes him. At first, Kartik is unsure of his bearings. The gypsy camp is behind him, yet there is music playing somewhere in front of him. Is it music? He listens closely. Yes, he can discern what sounds like a wood flute or two, and perhaps a violin as well. Who could be playing music at this hour?
He immediately thinks of Gemma, but shakes the thought away. Her talents do not lie in music.
And yet…
He cannot stop thinking of her now that she is in his head. He cannot imagine her not gracing a night like this. So magical and balmy, so unlike a normal night in English springtime.
Kartik's legs bring him forward. He does not think of the potential danger, of the lantern and dagger he left behind. No. His head is only filled with what lies ahead, in the clearing he knows to be just beyond these trees. He pauses as a flash of light darts in front of him, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake. He blinks rapidly, then rubs at his eyes.
Am I dreaming?
A soft, feminine giggle resounds somewhere in the trees. Kartik pushes into the clearing and gasps. It has been transformed; tall grass carpets the earth and willow vines sway where they have never been before. Most stunning, however, are the lights. Fairies? Insects? They are balls of golden light, twinkling and flying around, dancing independently of the rich wooden music emanating from the trees.
A light (fairy?) flutters in front of Kartik's face. He watches it in awe, trying to discern a shape beyond its glowing shell. It flies away as he reaches out to touch it, but hovers near again when he lets his hand drop. Another giggle reaches his ears. He looks up into the thick canopy of branches.
"Gemma?" he asks. He has never known her to giggle much, and is certain she cannot climb trees under normal circumstances, but he also knows that things are never normal with her.
"Who is it that roams my woods so freely? Speak your name. Speak!"
The trees rustle just above Kartik. He grins into the shadowed leaves. "It is I, Kartik."
Gemma perches just out of his sight, smiling at his response. Her cheeks are flushed with magic from the realms, magic that would otherwise prove too strong to contain, had she not created this dreamlike setting. She deserves a bit of fun, correct?
"Climb up," she calls down.
Kartik turns round, looking up all around him. "Where are you?"
"Come find me," she says, pitching her voice to the far end of the clearing. She laughs to herself as he spins around, completely confused. Gemma rests her chin in her hands as she lays on her stomach, feeling the tingly combination of magic and love run its course through her core.
"I'm not going to climb all of these trees looking for you," Kartik says loud enough for her to hear wherever she might be. On one hand, he liked it better when he was the one playing games, not her, but on the other hand…he finds it rather…titillating, like a grown-up game of hide and seek.
He'll search through the dense trees, becoming more and more anxious, and when he finds her…
What might happen then?
Kartik would very much like to find out.
"I'll give you a hint," Gemma offers, her hidden spot making her far more bold and playful than normal. This isn't really me…is it? "I'm directly above you."
Kartik looks up again, and this time he swears he can lock eyes with her.
The fairy lights follow him as he nimbly climbs the tree. They illuminate the thick cluster of branches where Gemma has made her nest, so to speak. Kartik's eyes widen when he sees her, but he does not turn away like he would if the setting was different.
She wears only her chemise, though it is ripped and torn by branches. Dirt smudges her bare arms and legs, and leaves decorate her tangled curls. For the first time ever, Kartik feels overdressed in her presence. He has so many questions (What is this? How did you do this? Aren't you cold?) but instead he just stares, drinking in her haunted eyes and milky skin.
Gemma blushes under the intensity of his gaze. "You found me," she says bluntly.
"I found you," Kartik repeats, temporarily spellbound by the heat in her cheeks. He tears his eyes away and looks around the tree house she's made, like a coven for a wood nymph, or a very large, dexterous bird. He wonders what she's up to, and fears being made a fool in some fashion. "You are alone?" he asks.
"Yes. Miss Bradshaw isn't very creative and Miss Worthington finds the forest too common for fun."
Kartik smirks. "But why are you here?"
Gemma shrugs. "I couldn't sleep. I had to come here."
"But why?" He wonders if it's because she wanted to see him.
"The magic." She tilts her head up to look at the moon through the sparse openings in the trees' cover. Kartik admires the way the shadows hit her collarbone. "If I use the magic in a small way, it begs to be used more. It is like…a small hole in a dam; the pressure builds until the magic threatens to consume me." She looks down at her dirty hands. "So I must use it."
Kartik frowns slightly. He knows he should probably dissuade her from this, but he doesn't care to right now. Maybe in the morning he will, but tonight is for magic, for them.
"It's beautiful," he murmurs. You're beautiful.
Gemma's mouth parts slightly in surprise. "You're not angry?"
He hesitates, then shakes his head. A ball of light dances lazily near Gemma's neck, throwing shadows about. She doesn't seem to notice, but Kartik does. He is overcome with the sudden urge to kiss her.
For fear of rejection, he resists.
So he turns to the one thing he never tires of, the one thing that still manages to spark passion between them, even without touching.
"I must commend you on managing to climb this tree," Kartik says nonchalantly. "How many times did you fall before you made it up?"
"I didn't fall," Gemma protests.
"Oh?" Kartik boldly reaches forward and touches the torn strap of her chemise lightly. "Are you just experimenting with a new fashion then?"
Her cheeks burn. She had torn her chemise on purpose, for no wood nymph is pristine. But there is no chance she will say this to him. She trains her face into a practiced half-smile, like the Mona Lisa hiding her many secrets.
"I'll bet you'd like to see me fall," she whispers huskily.
"Of course not," Kartik says, confused at her sudden change in mood and intrigued at the same time.
"Oh, no?" Gemma scrambles to her feet and leaps off the bough of the (very tall) tree.
"Gemma?" Kartik cries out in alarm. He looks down at the ground in a panic, bracing himself for the sickening thud of her hitting the forest floor.
It never comes.
"You forget that I'm a priestess," Gemma says calmly, hovering in the air before him. Two great gossamer wings have sprouted from her back, all shades of iridescence, like an exotic butterfly only seen in foreign lands. Kartik stares at her in awe. This is so bizarre!
She holds her hands out to him. "Come on."
He eyes her flimsy wings suspiciously. "I'll just climb down."
"No," she says, grabbing his hands and pulling him off the branch with surprising strength. Together, they twirl to the ground like a single dried leaf in autumn.
Kartik doesn't open his eyes until his feet touch the ground.
"Well?" Gemma sits herself in the thick grass.
"It wasn't that bad," Kartik lies, sitting next to her. Their shoulders nearly touch, and it creates a current that makes Kartik's face feel hot. He opts to lie down instead, and he does so, resting his hands behind his head. From this position, he can see the elegant curve of Gemma's hip, and the definition of her shoulder blades. There is still one nagging question in his head.
Why?
Why am I here? Why is she here? Why are we here together?
Gemma sits very still, feeling his eyes boring holes into her body. She worries that it might have been a mistake to dress in what she did. She doesn't want him thinking that she's cheap and only out to throw herself at him. Her fingers find her amulet and grasp it firmly. Warmth spreads throughout her bones. Her confidence returns.
She lies next to him.
With her head nestled in the plush glass, Gemma can faintly hear every slight move Kartik makes; her ears buzz with the sound. They lie close, perhaps only centimeters apart, aching to either close the gap or move further away.
The upkeep of such a setting begins to take its toll on Gemma. Her breathing becomes labored as she struggles to keep the illusion. She doesn't want this moment to end.
Kartik notices the way her chest heaves. "Are you alright?" he asks, concerned.
Tears prick at Gemma's eyes. "It's too much," she moans. "The magic…"
Without a thought, Kartik leans over and kisses her. A sigh escapes her lips as she wraps her hand around his neck, brings him closer. She lets herself be swept away by his mouth, his tongue erasing the magic from her palette with every circle and stroke executed with an artist's precision. Now he is the one painting a beautiful scene for her to enjoy.
Unbeknownst to either of them, the forest drains of enchantment. The trees turn back to ordinary, the thick grass recedes back into the ground, fairy lights fade into the darkness. All that is left are the two blissfully ignorant people lying on the cold ground.
"Oh," Gemma breathes as Kartik lifts his face from hers. Her eyes drift to the canopy of trees beyond him. "The magic is gone," she whispers sadly.
Kartik glances around briefly. "Is it?" He kisses her again.
La la la. What do you think?
Wants to play Zelda now,
LunaEquus
PLEASE REVIEW!
