All Strange Wonders
By Tabine
In which Tenten finds a curious something in a tree.
In the Land of Fire, strange and magical occurrences were a normal and every-day affair. Having grown up in the company and care of dragons (who were among the most fantastic and powerful and wise of all the magical creatures found within the borders of the Elemental Lands), and therefore having seen firsthand her own fair share of such things, Tenten was of the mind that there remained still very few things in the world that could possibly catch her off-guard and unawares. But the powers of the world had a tendency to work in strange and mysterious and often unknowable ways, and so it was that when Tenten happened upon something exceedingly unusual one fine and balmy spring morning while venturing through the Western Wood, she couldn't quite help but stare up disbelievingly at the sight above her.
There, in a net suspended from the highest branches of a gnarled old oak tree, was a man who didn't seem especially thrilled by his predicament — particularly so when he caught sight of Tenten gaping up at him, if the way the furrow in his brow seemed to deepen upon noticing her was any indication.
Of course, there was also the slightest possibility she was wrong about the man's apparent distemper, for as sharp and keen as her eyes were, the distance between the treetops and the ground was simply too great. Beyond the man's pale skin and dark hair, she was too far away to accurately determine his more distinctive facial features, let alone his expression.
A princess of dragons though she might be, Tenten was first and foremost a human, and nothing more.
"Do you intend to stand there all day?" the man in the tree called down to her, then, snapping Tenten out of her thoughts. His voice was deep and very smooth, and sharp with terse irritation. "Or were you planning on being of any assistance?"
Blinking coolly up at him, Tenten took a step back, leaning her weight on one hip and folding her arms over her chest. It was hardly polite or proper of the man to address her in such a brusque manner when she had done absolutely nothing to deserve it, she thought, and promptly decided that she most certainly did not appreciate it in the least.
"Well, that depends," she shot back. "Were you planning on being so rude to your savior?"
"Save me first," he replied shortly. "Then we shall see."
Wordlessly reaching into the leather pouch at her hip, Tenten narrowed her eyes, carefully taking in her surroundings when her fingers brushed against the familiar edge of a metal throwing star. "Consider this your warning," she shouted to the man suspended above her. A moment later, she let the weapon fly from her fingers with an expert flick of her wrist.
The action was so quick, the man in the net barely had a chance to respond.
As always, her aim was perfect, and Tenten watched in smug satisfaction as the sharp-edged projectile cut through the top of the net, sending it and the dark-haired man held captive within plummeting unceremoniously to the ground below. Had there not been a thick layer of spongey moss and dried leaves left piled up around the base of the tree to break and cushion the man's fall with a lovely, muffled sort of whumph!, she might have been concerned for his safety — indeed, if that had been the case, she might not have been so inclined to have taken such drastic action in the first place at all, despite her irritation with him. Even so, Tenten felt compelled to check on his wellbeing all the same, and she strode over to the stranger, ochre-grey eyes trained carefully on him and fingers within easy reach of the dagger strapped to her belt all the while.
With the exception of a few bumps and scratches and a very obviously bruised ego, the man seemed no worse for wear. He did, however, level her with a cool glare from his sprawled position when he saw her approach, before springing to his feet and methodically brushing away the dirt and leaves and bits of moss that now covered his clothes.
"How did you do that?" he asked when she was within speaking distance, with as much dignity as he could muster (which, admittedly, was considerably more than what Tenten would have expected from anyone who had been in his predicament mere moments before). He jerked his chin in the direction of the net he'd been held captive in and, still sounding a bit winded, continued, "That net was made from pixie silk — no regular blade could have made so much as a dent in it. Only an item of substantial magical power would have the ability to do so."
Tenten shrugged, bending down to pick the net off the ground. Casting a well-trained eye over the object, she realized it had been made by sprites. They certainly were clever little things: the material of the net was smooth and fine, the weave tight, and against her calloused fingers it felt lighter than the most delicate of her silken robes. "Dragon fire," she told him. "It's common knowledge that a weapon forged in something so potent has the ability to cut through any material without resistance."
The man narrowed his eyes, and Tenten was taken aback by their paleness, like silver and starlight or the faintest shadow cast upon freely fallen snow. Never before had she ever seen eyes like that — surely she would remember if she had. "Common knowledge though it might be, the reality of it is a separate matter entirely." His lips pressed together in a hard, thin line, and his expression grew wary. "How would someone such as yourself have access to such powerful weapons?"
With another careless shrug, Tenten leaned down further and started looping the ruined net loosely around her hand. "Well," she began slowly, fixing him with a pointed look, "it's rather easy, you see, when you happen to be the one making them."
Hello, friends, and happy new year! It's certainly been a while, and for that I apologize. But here's another story I've been poking at, and have had a lot of fun working on! It's really just one take on a fantasy AU, which I know has been done time and time again, but, well. I started working on this around this time last year, so now that I've got at least a small part of the beginning of it finished, I supposed I could at least post one chapter (and if not, at least it's a good standalone fic). :p
The title comes from one of my all-time favorite poems, John Donne's "Song (Go and catch a falling star)", and a majority of the chapters will be small like this one. Any commentary or feedback you may have on this, or ideas for future adventures or shenanigans, is also greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!