*I dont own Jane and the Dragon or its characters
This is an odd story and there will probably be dozens of questions or not, but hope you enjoy.
Once, when he was very young, he buried a picture thinking it would grow into person, though at the time he was not aware that people did not grow out of inanimate objects, but grew into a person in a more metaphorical sense. As a lad, he was taught not to fear nature with all its trees and things that crawled about. His earliest memories had to do with rivers and the gentle wood, the crunch of leaves beneath his feet and something that smelled good. When he thought of his mother it was always a fog, though the forest and flowers were what came up in his mind. The forest was like a home, a place to be alone, a place that was kind.
He always thought he was forgetting something each time he traveled through the wood, but he had an inkling it had to do with someone no good. If the princess were to hear of his venturing out, she would tell him beware of mysterious creatures he knew nothing about, and do not fall asleep if he knew of things such as jesting fairies and goblins when in the wood. It was madness to believe in such lunacy, though he could not deny that nature intended to go on without assistance. Perhaps it could help him, think it a friend, though good memories without end met him then in the wood.
The crunching of leaves beneath his boot was nostalgia, the warm breeze a loving caress as searched for a clearing to relax and have a bite. Another stressful morning of bashing swords, and too many things spoken left him wanting peace and relaxation. No one dare disturb him if they glanced upon his sword, he was sure of it, though trouble had a way of finding him.
Awoken by the rustling of trees in her gentle wood, she crawled out of her hiding place, letting out yawn, the warm air felt good. Through small openings from the tree tops, the light blanketed the forest floor with a careful soft glow like a tender kiss upon a child. With a small leap, she landed in a pile of leaves with a light thrash like an acorn, feeling fluttery with life. Ready to jest whoever she would find, she was neither bad or really kind. It really was terrible habit to go from place to place, playing jests on whoever she pleased, but she had time, much more then she would ever need. Times were not like they once were, when everyone lived in balance, when she was not so alone with her thoughts. Yet, it was nice that no one could tell her where to go, or what she would find if she ventured out, but more often then not, the silence spoke for itself.
The dance of the forest was at a standstill, indicating a foreign presence. It was often disturbed by unwanted visitors, though most were easily frightened away and were of no threat. However, whoever was out and about made a crude mess of things, trampled all over the flowers, and crushed a few toadstools. A bear perhaps? Was what she thought, though she could not detect its scent.
Considering circumstance, she knew she should have been cautious, though what is caution if there hardly was ever reason to feel it? She had been careful for too long, and danger hardly came her war, so onward through shrubbery she went, through common paths, following footsteps that were leading her to something smelling good. The tantalizing scent was a tease, and her brisk walk became a run. With a joyous heart she shivered in excitement as she got closer to her prize, and that in itself was treat, like an appetizer so to speak. All her anticipation was not for nothing since it led her to a small clearing nearby the river, where a large fish cooked nicely above a small fire pit.
She paused at the very first sight of the human, whose grey eyes glared down at her, watching her carefully. It was him again, whose presence was sharper then his sword. If it were anyone else, she would have jumped and stolen his lunch before he even had time to breath, but no, this human was not just anyone. The glint of his sword was like a warning, and he certainly was frightful, but she inched in closer because she knew she could. He smelled of leather and spices just like last time, and carried the same air of resentment. When they had met last, it was under similar circumstances. And she could not deny that she recognized the emptiness in his eyes as though he were a lost child, since she herself was alone without anyone in the world.
And just like that time, he carried a similar air, but he did not appear so vulnerable, in fact, he looked upset. "You again" he complained
He carried a light bruise beneath his right eye, and a cut on his lower lip showed signs of healing. A human with a little fight in them was never a bore, and a challenge was the flavor of life. She dare not flinch, for he was no threat, and a part of her knew that he needed her too. He grabbed her with ease, only since she allowed it, and she meowed like a tease. He frowned at her insolence, and her stubbornness was all about familiar. He scoffed at the reminder of his fellow knight. "This is my fish, not yours" he scolded as he pointed at the fish, "You have claws, so why not catch your own fish?"
Glancing at the river, she shivered a bit at the thought of even stepping in the cold water. She sensed no malice, so she meowed to him sweetly, hoping he would be ever so kind. Her tail moved about, as though she had not a care in the world. His wary glare softened with every feline cry, and he soon forgot his small outburst. Her black fur would have made her an outcast, and like him despised. They were different, and yet the same, so put her down gently since he knew they could use the company. "Come here" he said in a defeated tone, offering her the belly.
With a happy cry, she nudged him softly, and he could swear she nodded, though it could have been delirium. They ate in silence, though it truly was absurd he thought to eat with a cat. He was an odd human she thought, to not chase her away when he appeared fully equipped to. Perhaps they were alike in a way, outsiders in their own right; their hair certainly matched. Who knows where he came from, or why he was there, but every so often she would find him resting by the river, eating a freshly caught fish. His past did not matter, neither did his circumstances, but she found him to be kind no matter how frightening he appeared to be.
At the end of their meal, she allowed him to pet her until he fell asleep. She thought it rude to disappear right after being rewarded, but waiting till he was asleep seemed alright. He was a handsome man she thought, but what would that matter to a cat?
As she ran, she disappeared behind some shrubbery, changing into her true form. A beauty she really was, but that is a story out of the norm. She giggled lightly as she placed a crown of daisies upon his head, and felt daring stealing a kiss, but she could not stay, she knew that. In his ear she whispered, "Thank you Gunther, for remembering me" and kissed him softly, and left before he could ever know.
Do not wake a sleeping fairy or they will disappear into a dozen butterflies and they will be gone forever she thought to herself, wishing it were not true. But, she had seen it one too many times, so she trusted no one, except nature, and the raven like human. There were so many things she wished could have told, but it was not like times of old when fairies lived together with humans. Though, perhaps a halfling and a fairy could coexist, but that would mean leaving a place and going to a place not his own. If she were so lucky, perhaps they would meet again, but one could only dream.
When he woke the cat was gone, with nothing but a rock in its place. He glanced around, but she was nowhere to be found, with no other clue except a crown of daises. Who knows who placed them upon his head, but a feeling of warmth lingered on his lips. Perhaps that cautionary tale was true about sleeping young victims and fairies, but whoever it was, he hoped his friend would appear again and keep him company in the gentle wood.
