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CHAPTER 2 – THE ELF AND HER LUNCH

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It is still only mid-morning and already Galahad is nearly at the top of the hill. He finds that there is a mountain stream running parallel to his path – all he needs to do now is follow it to its source at the top and plant the seed. He starts to feel a sense of relief that his quest may not be so arduous as the Dark Faerie had implied.

Just then, he hears a lilting voice call out. Perhaps to him. He stops to listen for it again.

"You there! Boy! Please stop! I am in need of some assistance!"

Galahad was many things, but most of all he was chivalrous. Whenever someone called out to him in a genuine need for help, he always heard the call and would respond. Today was no different, quest or no quest. He turns to his left and approaches the sound past some trees into a nearby clearing.

Galahad finds himself in the presence of a young Elf with a face wet with tears. The Elf dries her tears, and looks askew at the human who answered her call. Her face turns a tad redder as the human boy approaches. With all the manners of a budding knight, the young Galahad bows and introduces himself. "Don't cry, Elf. My name is Galahad, son of Sir Lancelot, knight of The Round Table, and I am here to answer your call for help."

The Elf composes herself. "It has been many years since I last saw a human, but… I always thought your kind were a little more – modest. But I will not be one to judge." She looks up and down at Galahad, his solid form quite visible, and his pale skin dotted with mud. She can see that he is barely a strong wind away from being naked. She decides to look away, then a moment later decides not.

"You said you were in need of help?" Galahad repeats himself, trying to draw attention away from his (lack of) attire.

She nods, resuming her face of grief. "Yes – my lunch! My lunch has been stolen!"

Galahad takes a moment to consider the situation. "By whom? Can't we just get it back?"

The Elf shakes her head vehemently. "Oh no. It was taken by a Troll – the one that lives in the cave just over there." The Elf points to a hole in a nearby cliffside at the far end of the clearing.

Galahad takes a deep breath. He considers his options, and then snaps a twig from a nearby tree and walks towards the cave. "I have an idea," he says to the Elf as he walks. "I know that trolls can be greedy, and are not too bright. I also know they can be cowardly – perhaps I can bargain with it for your lunch."

The Elf shudders. "Oh, don't do that! Trolls are mean, and it may get angry and kill you. Don't you have a sword or something, oh child of a knight of The Round Table?"

Galahad shakes his head. "No, I have only my wits. Perhaps it may be enough."

The Elf runs to hide as Galahad soon reaches the entrance to the cave. He takes a deep breath, grips the seed in his left hand and the leafy twig in his right, and walks into the cave.

He soon happens upon the Troll – a stumpy being hardly as tall as Galahad, and catches him poking at the basket like he is unsure if it is safe. He is startled and whirls about, pointing a small blade towards Galahad. Galahad simply stops and introduces himself once again.

"Greetings, Troll. My name is Galahad, son of Sir Lancelot – may I ask, what do you have there?"

"It is me lunch," the Troll gruffs back at the boy. "Git away or else I'll cut ye." The Troll sneers at the human, and steals a glance at the twig in the human boy's hand.

Galahad slowly brings the twig to his lips, and takes a bite of one of the leaves and chews it while meeting the gaze of the Troll. Then he slowly responds. "I hear you stole it from an Elf. Do you enjoy eating elven food that much?"

The Troll looks at the basket, then at Galahad again. He stares at the nearly naked boy and is surprised to see him take a second bite from the leaves on the twig. Trolls are not known for their smarts nor their kindness, so as Galahad predicted it betrays an ignorant sense of greed and curiosity.

"What kind of devil has possessed ye, boy? What manner of tree are ye eatin'?"

"This is my lunch," Galahad responds back, then takes a third bite from a leaf on the twig. "And you can have none of it. It is mine."

The Troll stares at the boy and the twig for a time, upset at the terse response from the human boy, then licks his lips as he finally decides how to take the boy's show of defiance. "No," the Troll says back to Galahad. "That lunch should be mine. Give it to me!"

Galahad takes a step back and assumes a defensive posture. "In all my life, no one has ever taken my food from me. Not without a fight – for I am the son of Sir Lancelot, knight of the Round Table, so be warned that I am a trained fighter." He can see that the Troll is starting to look unsure of himself, so he continues. "But, I am willing to make a trade. My lunch for the basket – what do you say? Do you accept?"

The Troll looks at the basket, then at the twig with several bright green leaves still on it. He considers the option of just taking the twig, but he thinks carefully about the warning. Unlike the Elf, Galahad is the child of a famous and formidable warrior, so the Troll fears Galahad may put up a fight and hurt him. He also considers trading, but then he wouldn't have the basket anymore. He struggles to decide, then accepts the bargain. Better safe than sorry, the Troll thinks to himself.

"Fine!" The Troll barks out. "We'll trade. Besides, I can't stand the taste of elven food. It smells of flowers – disgusting!" The Troll approaches, cautiously, and Galahad slowly relaxes his stance just enough to allay the fear that the Troll can't hide from its eyes.

They trade, then Galahad turns to leave the cave with the basket in hand. He smiles to himself that the Troll have given up the stolen lunch without a fight, for he knew the Troll was only interested in taking what was cherished by others. The Troll looks at the leafy twig, still trying to figure out why the son of Sir Lancelot would be eating leaves for lunch. As the Troll tries to speak up to ask, he finds that the human boy has already left the cave. He stops from going after him – better safe than sorry, the Troll thinks again to himself. He takes a bite from a leaf on the twig, unsure if he has been tricked, but too afraid to chase after the boy in the end.

Galahad emerges from the cave into bright sunlight. It is noontime, and the young boy is starting to get genuinely hungry. He can smell the fresh bread and cake from inside the basket along with the natural aroma of wild flowers – staples in the diet of Elves – and he can feel the hunger well up inside him. But, Galahad is a gentleman, so he refrains from poking into the basket.

Galahad soon finds the Elf, still cowering near a tree. The Elf's eyes light up with joy as she sees the brave human return her precious lunch back to her. She betrays a stance of utter glee as she dances around and gracefully accepts the basket from young Galahad's hands.

"Hooray for us!" the Elf shouts out as she cradles her basket of food. "My lunch! Oh, you are ever the child of Sir Lancelot, young Galahad! However can I ever repay you for your kindness? Perhaps a fresh pair of breeches?"

Galahad smiles and shakes his head. "Thank you, but no reward is necessary." Galahad looks back towards the cave entrance to make sure he wasn't followed by a cross Troll. "I think you should eat it somewhere far from the cave before the Troll realizes the error of his decision." Galahad collects himself to return to his quest, but not before his stomach makes a growling noise.

The Elf laughs and hugs Galahad. "Alright," she responds. "But, I must share my lunch with you. You must be hungry – let me split my lunch with you as a token of my appreciation."

Young Galahad smiles and nods, and together they travel a small ways to the stream Galahad was following. There is a fallen log just into the shade of a nearby oak tree, perfect for two to sit and enjoy a basket of food. Galahad welcomes the Elf to sit, but has nothing to offer to drape over the log. The Elf, being a spirit of the woodlands, sits happily anyways just as she casts a little spell to clear the log of dirt and filth. Galahad soon joins her, and without a moment's hesitation the Elf cracks open her basket and starts to split a loaf of aromatic bread to share with her champion.

Galahad takes the bread and thanks her, then asks a question before he takes a bite. "I am curious to ask – who should I thank for making such a delicious bread?"

The Elf nods. "My mother made this lunch for me to enjoy while I enjoyed the forest. As you can tell, she is a wonderful cook."

"Indeed," Galahad replies as he readies to take a a bite. "My thanks to your mother." And with that, Galahad takes his first of many bites. He has never eaten Elven food, but it is rich and full of flavor, so he finds the experience very pleasant. Together, the boy and the Elf talk and enjoy the small feast of bread and cake, baked fresh by the Elf's mother.

After a brief stay and a few drinks of water to wash down their lunch, Galahad gets up and says his goodbye. As much as his respite has been fulfilling he knows he must return to the trail to finish his ascent of the hill and finish his quest.

"I hope you are successful in your quest, young Galahad," the Elf says as she finishes to pack her basket and prepares to return to her home in the forest.

Galahad nods, and thanks her for her kindness. As they part, young Galahad turns to trudge up the hill. The Elf takes a moment to look back at the kind human. She gives a simple prayer that the spirits of the woods show mercy upon him and his mother. One thing the Elf knows that the human boy may not, is that the spirits of the woods are always watching, and no act of kindness and cruelty is overlooked when the time of judgment comes.