The Faun
Part two.
By late spring, the recently plowed and planted field of corn was bright green with the young stalks reaching for the sky.
Many of the raised beds now had a veritable salad wall of carrots, onions, celery, swelling heads of lettuce and cabbage, rutabagas, turnips and many others.
One whole bed was entirely devoted to potatoes, with another just for various heirloom tomatoes.
Sprawling pumpkin and melon plants had taken over parts of the front yard and required constant rearranging to allow for their continual growth.
Honey bees and the many sprites now living there, labored mightily to keep up with all the blossoms opening up on the pitted fruit and nut trees.
The stately oak trees now bore many tiny blossoms that hinted at the bounty of acorns due in the fall.
Even the wooly bugs, now heavy with the wool they had grown, would soon need shearing, according to Freya.
In the forested portion of the property, the berry bushes and grape vines now drooped under the weight of the swelling berries and clustered grapes growing on them.
The local black tailed deer and raccoon population looked forward to noshing on them, come the fall.
With no field trips being planned for the moment and Freya at school, Roger was out hoeing the weeds near one of the apricot trees.
Out of the corner of his left eye he saw a stealthy movement and pretended not to notice the tawny skinned faun as she teased loose a remaining apricot from last fall and happily ate it.
The sweet juices running down the corners of her pretty mouth and chin before dripping onto her swelling breasts as she ate.
Her injuries from the night she and Roger met were long since healed and her hips, buttocks and thighs now bore only faint scars, scarcely visible through the short golden fur covering her lower extremities.
Roger kept up the pretense that he didn't see her as she ate and she kept up the pretense that she was a shy northern woodland nymph, a faun hiding from the clumsy and clueless human working nearby.
It was their private little game and they both enjoyed playing it.
She knew she was safe here, but instincts and tradition dictated she'd play the hard to catch, yet lusty woodland nymph, seducer of mortal men.
Having eaten her fill, she washed the juices from her face, neck and swelling breasts from the rain barrel nearby.
She also ran her fingers through her dark curly hair to get it under some sort of control and washed off her growing horns.
It seemed that since she began living in the mortal world, she had reached puberty and was now approaching sexual maturity, if her swelling breasts and growing horns were any indicator.
There was an outdoor shower Roger had put up near the small barn for her to use, but she liked rinsing off in the rain barrels, as it gave her a chance to be near the man she regarded as her savior.
And it gave him a chance to see how she was doing.
Taking the fresh, clean hand towel that had somehow gotten hung conveniently nearby, she dried herself off and rehung the towel.
Pausing to look around to see if anyone else was looking, the young faun flitted from the rain barrels to the row of apricot trees.
With a flickering of her deerlike black tail, she flitted to the row of blossoming plum trees and a moment later, darted to the nectarine trees, also laden with blossoms and abuzz with honeybees.
After the nectarine trees there was an open stretch destined to get a row of peach trees, but for now, open land.
Beyond that was the corral and small barn where Samson stayed when he wasn't out working or being ridden by Freya, his frost giantess owner.
Having negotiated all these obstacles both real and imaginary, she paused to visit with the huge, gentle horse known as Samson.
The young faun smiled as the huge horse came over to the rail fence where she stood.
He nickered softly as she gently caressed his great head and velvety ears.
Roger stood leaning on his grubbing hoe and smiled as he watched the slightly built faun and the massive horse interacting.
He mused, had it really been only a few months since her arrival and the night she was attacked by a night gaunt of some kind?
Since then, a small cluster of gray granite boulders had appeared near the edge of the woods, just beyond her hollowed out oak tree home.
To a geologist, the boulders would have been classified as a 'glacial erratic' or a 'drop stone', meaning they had gotten deposited by a melting glacier.
Only a geologist would know the last ice age hadn't reached as far south as the Portland, Oregon area and therefore the boulders had been placed by 'agencies unknown at this time'.
Roger knew perfectly well they were a spriggan guarding the house at the request of Doctor Shannon and sent there by the queen herself.
Roger wasn't sure if he was Silky's grouchy friend, or one of his minions placed there as a guardian.
He did know that Silky would take a picnic basket with her when she went to visit that pile of rocks.
The young faun strolled towards her oak tree shaded den and from the way she moved, the suggestive sway of her slender waist, trim hips and the firm rondure of her pert little fanny partially hidden by her little black tail.
Roger could see why her kind were considered so dangerous by the church, she was sexuality personified.
She could seduce a man just by walking by, he thought to himself.
Prince Oberon certainly enjoyed pursuing her kind and Roger couldn't blame him if this young faun was any indicator of just how attractive a mature faun could be.
Titania's attitude seemed to be, let her stay right where she is, as she was one less faun for her foolish, wayward husband to pursue.
Thus far, he was the only man to have seen her as she roamed the extensive property and Roger was fine with that.
Having essentially saved her life and cared for her while she recovered from her injuries, he felt protective of her and was cautious about letting other people see her.
Especially, some of the more fannish types belonging to the Portland Science Fantasy Society.
Many of them were obsessive and seemingly lacking in a sense of social boundaries; as related to him by Warren Johnson, their senior librarian.
Like Roger, he too, said little about the unseen denizens of both the big house and the Karloff Research library.
The unspoken agreement was, the less the fannish types knew about what went on in the house built for a giant, the better.
What they did know was that an adventurer scholar named Roger Tate lived there along with his young companion, a frost giantess named Freya Sigurdsdottir and a mating pair of guardian wolves, the size of Shetland ponies.
Some of them knew that Anita Larsen, nascent author and friend of Anna Karlsen rented a bedroom from Roger only because her mother worked largely overseas.
They did not know about the diminutive house spirit known as Silky or the Silver Lady, or Dena Greenwood, a two foot tall woodwife and frequent bedmate of Roger's.
They certainly did not know about the coterie of sprites or the tree spirits living about the property.
Of the many society members, only Warren Johnson had been inside the big house, and he was not one for bragging about who he knew or hung out with.
He left that wearisome habit to others.
That afternoon Roger noticed Anita with picnic basket in one hand and books in the other, trudging up the hill towards the barn.
As always her gigantic wolf companion Axel ambled along behind her, his nose investigating any new smells.
She had recently announced that she was going to teach the young faun how to read and write.
Roger had wished her well in her endeavor and simply got out of the way.
Flora Oakenwood, Anita had named her, a name she liked and accepted as her own. After all, not many fauns had her own name, and Flora was delighted to have a name all her own, a name that set her apart and meant that she mattered.
That, and the fact she was living in the mundane world and presumably safe from Prince Oberon's amourous interest.
She smiled as she saw Anita approaching her with her wicker basket hanging from the crook of her elbow.
The basket meant food and Anita meant she would talk to Flora and share her books with her.
Flora had already learned her ABC's and was now learning how words were made by using those ABC's to make a word that had a meaning, that described something, or an action, that named something, or a someone, like her.
As he went to put away his grubbing hoe, he glanced towards the old oak tree Flora lived under and saw the two of them having a rather animated discussion.
Flora was seated on the blanket Anita had brought and Anita was acting out whatever it was she was trying to convey to the young faun.
Roger merely chuckled and headed into the big house he shared with so many people now.
Once he was inside, there was a whirring of tiny wings and little April settled onto his shoulder.
"Choclit?" she squeaked as she held out one incredibly tiny hand.
He was about to give her a bit of chocolate when Maribel, her mother and queen of the sprites in their home, suddenly began hovering in front of him and held up one tiny hand to stop him.
Maribel squeaked, "Ye'll spoil 'er dinner, we hae some nice fat grubs frae th' rose garden...No choclit!"
"Awww...Meanie!" squeaked April and she flew off in a tiny huff, presumably to Roger's bedroom, where she was born.
Satisfied she had stopped the before dinner snack, Maribel flew off towards her own home, high above the great cast iron stove in the kitchen.
Roger could only shrug, Maribel was the parent and if she didn't want her child to load up on snacks before a meal, who was he to contribute to April's rebelliousness?
That afternoon Roger was in his study reading up on the Paul Bunyan myths from the days when North America had vast, dense forests covering much of its north and eastern states and Canada.
He couldn't help wondering if perhaps the mythical Paul Bunyan really had been a Jotun who had come down from Canada and found work in the logging camps of 19th century America.
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft voice of Anita saying, "Come inside Flora, I want you to see the inside of our house. It's okay..."
He heard the soft thudding of dainty hooves coming along inside the back hallway and moments later, he looked up and saw Anita and Flora peering into his cluttered study.
"This is Roger's study, this is where he is when he's not outside tending the gardens for Freya." declared Anita.
Flora smiled shyly and Roger said quietly, "Hello Flora, it's nice to see you!"
Flora's dark eyes fluttered briefly and she replied, "H, Hello Roger, it's nice to see you too."
Having exchanged pleasantries, the two ventured deeper into the house as Anita said quietly, "Next is our kitchen and dining room..."
Roger was about to call out to warn Anita that Silky might object to Flora's presence in her house when he heard, "Oh, Hi Silky! This is Flora...Wait, what? Okay! You can stop pushing now, we're leaving! Sheesh!"
Moments later he heard the back door slamming shut, Silky had booted Anita and Flora out!
Roger had a feeling he knew why Silky had objected to Flora being in the house, her normal appearance was that of a naked fur clad forest spirit unused to being indoors or wearing clothing.
Sighing, he got to his feet and sought out Silky.
Finding her in the kitchen busily preparing the evening meal, Roger quietly asked, "May I ask why you shooed Anita and Flora out of the house?"
Silky finished chopping up the bell pepper she had and by signs, indicated to him that she was objecting to Flora's nudity inside the kitchen or dining area.
"So, if she wore some kind of clothing, she would be okay inside the house?"
Silky's rapid nodding indicate a 'yes'.
Unable to resist, Roger said quietly, "You've not objected when the ladies walked around the house in the nude before. Or is this strictly about clothing must be worn in the kitchen and dining areas?"
Silky gave him an arch look, as if to say 'Do I have to draw you a picture?'
Roger smiled at her and said, "Okay, we'll go with clothing must be worn in the kitchen and dining areas by everyone."
Silky quickly nodded a yes then picked up another bell pepper to chop up.
Having solved that minor problem, Roger went outside and found Anita and Flora playing with one of the plump wooly bugs.
"Hey guys!" He began. "I talked to Silky about what happened earlier and it seems that she was objecting to your being naked inside the kitchen and dining areas of the house, Flora."
He smiled and continued, "She would have objected to anyone of us entering the kitchen while nude, so it wasn't just Flora she would have done that to."
Anita looked thoughtful and said, "So we just have to come up with some clothes for Flora then?"
"That was the impression I got."
"Okaaay, we can do that."
Roger grinned at the two, "So we're all good now?" he asked.
"Yep! We're all good!" replied Anita with a dazzling smile.
He smiled, "Welp, back to my studies, problem solved."
"What're you studying now?" asked Anita.
"Whether or not there is a Jotun connection to the Paul Bunyan myths from the 19th century logging camps of New England and Canada."
"Ah"
Anita paused a moment then asked, "Is there a connection, if any?"
Roger smiled, "The earliest stories I've found describe a man between seven and eight feet tall and weighing around three hundred pounds. That would be big for a human and small for a Jotun. A giant among men for certain, but not the sky high giant of popular imagery!"
Anita heaved an exaggerated sigh and said, "There goes another cherished myth from my childhood, and the song was so catchy!"
"Sorry." Roger replied as he left them to their devices while he returned to his research.
That evening Anita approached Roger with a request.
"I need to hit Joann's to get fabric for Flora's outfit, would it be possible for you to take me there?"
Roger glanced at the wall clock and asked, "What time do they close?"
"9 O'clock, I already know what I'll be needing so I shouldn't be long."
Noting that it was only 6:30 PM, Roger smiled and said, "Okay, I'll be ready in five minutes."
Anita squealed in delight and trotted off to fetch her wallet.
She met Roger at the door and as they were getting ready to leave, Freya asked, "Whaur ur ye twa gang aff tae?"
"He's taking me to Joann's to get some fabric, want to come along?"
Freya briefly thought then said, "Nae, Ah'm guid, maybe next time."
There was a brief interruption when Silky seemingly came from out of nowhere and handed Roger a list of things she needed from Joann's, when he accepted it she smiled slightly, then whisked away once more. Back to her evening's chores, whatever they were.
As Roger maneuvered through traffic Anita asked, "So what made you think of a Jotun connection to the Paul Bunyan stories?"
Roger smiled and replied, "It was while we were up north delivering Sasha's three pups.
I had a chance to look over Peter Ericcson's work shop briefly, he had some of the biggest axes and wood working tools I'd ever seen."
He grinned at Anita, "Can you imagine the impression a Jotun male showing up at a logging camp with his giant double bitted axe resting on one mighty shoulder would've made? I know I would've been impressed!"
Anita laughed and remarked, "I know I was impressed when I saw Freya's home, I never felt so tiny in my life!"
Roger chuckled, "And you're being pretty little to begin with, certainly didn't help!"
Anita retorted, "At least I'm taller than Christina Aquino!"
"True that!"
"Ah, here we are, Joann's!"
A few minutes later, Roger was going down Silky's list and adding the items to his basket of stuff.
Anita had disappeared into the fabric section and was keeping the ladies at the cutting counter busy with her selections.
As she made most of her own clothing, they were quite familiar with the slightly built teenager and her fashion ideas.
He had stopped at the sewing machine department and was admiring the newer machines that can do almost anything when Anita caught up to him.
"Those are pretty cool aren't they?" she muttered at his side.
"Yes, they are," he replied, "All those little old granny ladies who learned how do needle point in their youth must be wondering what they'll come up with next!"
Anita laughed and said, "Are you kidding? They're loving it! You'd be surprised at how many middle aged women buy these things and start up little businesses doing fancy embroidery for people. The machine saves them a lot of time and effort!"
Roger laughed and remarked, "Let's hear it for the entrepreneurial spirit of middle aged women with free time on their hands!"
"Hear, hear!" replied Anita.
Having made their purchases, they were driving home when Anita asked, "What are your thoughts on my teaching Flora how to read and write and how to behave around people?"
"Hoo boy, how do I begin?" replied Roger, "I personally have no objections to it, in fact I like the idea of her being able to read. I'd hate for her to get into trouble because she couldn't read a caution sign or a no trespassing sign."
He smiled, "Putting clothes on her is not a bad idea as they will tone down her sexual aura. The girl exudes sexuality just by walking by. It's not her fault, it is what she is, a faun, one of Prince Oberon's favorite playthings."
Anita looked thoughtful and said, "I do wonder how she got here, don't her kind live under the hill?"
"For the most part they do. I think she may have entered our world through that open gateway and somehow found that den inside the big oak tree when Titania and her entourage visited us during last mid winter's solstice event."
"How do you figure?"
"Well, Titania did remark to me about having left the door into summer open by 'accident' as she put it.
She remarked that a stray faun or two might've entered our world by 'mistake'."
Anita muttered, "I don't think it was a mistake, having a faun here attracted that night gaunt who attacked her and now we have a spriggan keeping watch up by the oak tree she lives inside."
"Yes, it does seem rather convenient doesn't it? Titania gains a toehold in the new world and it's right in our back yard!"
Roger glanced over at Anita and said quietly, "Let's keep this between us, shall we?"
"So what do we do now?" She asked.
"Nothing, for the time being, we do nothing except take notes and keep watch."
"Ah"
Anita looked over at him and asked, "Do you think Titania might be up to no good?"
There was a pregnant pause, then he replied thoughtfully," I don't rightly know for certain. I'm just not getting any impressions that I should be concerned about.
"I do know that she lost old Albion to the encroaching Britons and their Christian missionaries. Those who clung to the old ways and still honored her were driven into the wild lands and marginalized, decried as rustics, pagans and heathens."
He sighed, "Her people were driven under the hollow hills and largely relegated to myth, legends and folklore."
"For all her power and magic, she had to give way before a people who brought their own magic, which was the power of their belief."
"Their magic was their belief? I never thought of Christianity as being a form of magic, why was it so powerful against the fae?"
Roger smiled and said grimly, "That was the beauty of it, it wasn't so much its power, it was the lack of belief in magic of its followers.
"As you know, most humans lack the sight, they cannot see our neighbors, therefore they cannot be afraid of, or respect that which they cannot see. Although they believe in an invisible god themselves, ironic isn't it?"
"But we can, therefore we can be afraid, we can respect and we can adore, or even envy, our neighbors." Muttered Anita.
"Yep. Which brings us back to the beginning of our little chat. Titania is an awesome force of nature and magic. Living under the hills changes humans, remember Doctor Shannon's husband?"
"Uh huh."
"He was the human boy who took her place when she was exchanged for him. He grew up under the hills and it changed him, tremendously. He was able to find her and bring her back under the hills because of their being a changeling pair."
Roger grinned, "That would never happen to a sightless normie, Doctor Shannon's husband must've had the sight from birth, how else would they have found him to make the switch?"
"Okaaay, so why aren't you concerned about what Titania may be up to?"
Parking the van in their driveway, he shut of the motor and said, "Titania, for all her power is largely impotent against non fae who are sightless and don't believe in her. "She can affect us because we can see, and we believe in her."
He looked out the window of the van and noted the plump wooly bugs, huddled together on the small lawn in front of the house, then said, "This house and its family within it, have become like a portal between the worlds, a nexus if you will."
He pointed towards the hillside where the barn and the woodlands beyond lay, "Just before last winter's solstice, Freya and I had an encounter with the horned god Cernunnos and his Dark Lady, thankfully she accepted our offering of mistletoe otherwise, it could've gone very badly as he was not happy about being seen by us."
He smiled, "It was very scary as we had no idea of what he would likely do, even Titania prefers to avoid him., if that tells you anything."
Exiting the van and taking up his purchases he said, "I think Titania sees this house as a place where she can interact with normies on a limited basis and she wants to protect it, hence the spriggan up by the woods.
"The attack on Flora by the night gaunt while it was pretty hairy, we were able to deal with it with the aid of our wolvies. The presence of a spriggan lets night walkers know, this house and its inhabitants are under Her protection, and is Not to be disturbed."
Entering the house once more, they were greeted by the wolvies who gave the two of them a nasal going over to see where they had been.
Anita finally began laughing as she played with Axel's velvety ears, "I'm fine, you big silly! I just went and bought some fabric to make some clothes."
She giggled as her giant wolf companion nuzzled her and said gaily, "Always with the 'snuff snuff'!"
Satisfied she was all there, he relented and sat on his considerable haunches, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
"Thanks Rodge, for taking me to Joann's!" she cried cheerfully as she disappeared upstairs to her room with Axel's large form close behind.
Roger found Silky at her sewing and presented her with the bag he'd brought home.
She smiled at him and looked inside where in addition to the sewing items and notions she had asked for, there was a couple of brochures for sewing machines.
She looked up at him enquiringly, he smiled and said, "If you decide you ever want to try one of these, let me know and we'll go pick one out. You've already seen what Anita can do with one, it might be worth a try!"
Silky flushed slightly and went back to looking around inside the bag Roger had given her.
The next day, after Roger had gotten back from dropping Freya and Anita off at school, he resumed his hoeing of the weeds around the row of apricot trees.
This time he had with him a bag of the nibblies Flora seemed to like.
Leaving the bag in plain sight, right next to a berry bush as a lure.
He patiently chopped at the stubborn weeds rearing their leafy heads amongst the fruit trees.
It was an endless task, keeping slightly ahead of the weed population and one that Freya took seriously, even though it did seem like Roger was doing much of the menial labor part of it.
Before long, out of the corner of his eye he saw a stealthy movement, Flora was stalking his bag of nibblies.
Feigning ignorance, Roger blithely continued waging war on the weeds before him, while Flora edged closer and closer to the tempting bag of nibblies lying in plain sight.
Roger smiled to himself as the delicately built young faun slipped behind the berry bush.
She was taking the bait.
He knew it would only be moments before a delicate, long fingered hand at the end of a slender, golden brown arm, reached out from the berry bush and slipped inside the unprotected nibblies bag, in search of a tasty morsel or two, or three.
Four, if it could be managed in one go.
Roger wanted to laugh, he and Flora had been playing this game almost since she had recovered from her injuries, and they never seemed to tire of it.
Their game was interrupted by the appearance of Hazel, the centaurian postman, he was picking up a package from Ildico to Doctor Shannon via Silky.
Medical supplies from the labeling on the boxes Roger saw.
Hazel waved at Roger and said, "And a good day to you, Sir! Your fruit trees are looking well I see."
Roger grinned at the centaur and replied, "We're expecting a good yield this year, last year the apricots hadn't quite established themselves yet, so this year ought to be a good one."
He glanced over at the berry bush where Flora had absconded with the nibblies bag and said, "I expect our resident faun will enjoy sampling the fruits as they grow and ripen, she certainly enjoyed the last of last year's crop!"
Hazel chuckled and remarked, "If your 'resident faun' liked them, I know they had to be good!"
Roger chuckled and replied, "This year's crop ought to be really bountiful, what with all the sprites helping out in the gardens and Flora shooing the local deer population away from our crops so she can enjoy them instead, we ought to have a good harvest. Not to worry, I'm fairly certain there will a be a pie of two headed your way as a thank you, for all your hard work!"
Hazel grinned, "That, I am looking forward to, Silky's pies are legendary!"
Roger smiled at Hazel and said, "Got a minute?"
Hazel nodded a 'yes' and Roger said, "Excuse me a moment..."
He turned towards the berry bush and said softly, "Flora dear, come on out please, I'd like you to meet our fae postman, Hazel."
There was a moment's hesitation, then Flora stepped out from behind the berry bush and stood next to Roger with a shy smile on her pretty face, one delicate hand was lightly grasping his arm for reassurance.
Hazel smiled at her and tipped his messenger hat while saying, "It is a pleasure to meet you Flora, I do believe you are the first faun I have ever spoken to."
Flora gently squeezed Roger's arm and said, "I, it's a p,pleasure to m, meet you t, too!"
Roger smiled and said, "Anita is teaching her how to read and how to interact with people, she's still pretty shy around people, including me!"
Hazel smiled at the young faun and said cheerfully, "You're doing just fine, young miss, just fine!"
He glanced at the sun and said, "Well, I must be off, if I expect to get this package to the hospital on time!"
And with that, he trotted off and slipped under the hill through an entrance near the pile of large rocks that marked where a spriggan stood guard against night gaunts.
Roger turned his attention back to Flora, the childlike faun was still standing close to him, her hand still grasping his arm.
He smiled at the girl and said, "Let me have a good look at you, if you don't mind?"
Flora blinked a couple of times and stood still while he looked her over as if she was a specimen to be catalogued.
His blue grey eyes had a warmth to them as he gazed upon her and she felt safe in his presence, no Prince of the fae realm was he!
Roger noted that her breasts were swelling now and there was a suggestion of a soft downy tuft growing between her long, delicate legs.
He noted the white spots along her hips and thighs seemed to be fading, which was typical in a deer like species and they would disappear altogether as she matured.
Her thick, dark and curly hair had gotten longer and her horns had definitely gotten longer.
Whether or not they would come to resemble a goat's horns or a deer's antlers, remained to be seen, he would wait and see.
Although he suspected deer antlers from the shape of her long ears, made for catching any suspicious noises, like the sounds of a night gaunt stalking her.
Her oval face had these lustrous dark eyes and luxurious eye lashes human women would envy for their beauty.
Her mouth had incredibly ripe, kissable lips with just the trace of a shy smile, the kind of a look nearly impossible to resist for a mere mortal man.
He sighed, Flora was going to become an incredibly beautiful deer woman someday and heaven help the man she chose for her own.
Roger finally smiled at her and kissed her lightly upon her forehead before saying, "Thank you, now scoot! Take your bag of nibblies and I'll be fetching Anita in about another hour or so. I think she has something she made for you last night and I'm sure you'll see it this afternoon!"
Flora smiled at him, her dark eyes twinkling in merriment just before her perfect mouth formed the words, "Thank you!" and she trotted off to her den inside the big oak tree above the barn where Samson lived.
Putting away the hoe, he trudged down to the house, headed straight to his study, got out his notes on Flora's development and began jotting down his observations.
There was a method to his interactions with any 'neighbor', he would make note of how they reacted to his input or another person's input.
In this case, Anita was the one doing much of the 'other' interacting while he made observations and kept notes.
Today, he was recording her growth patterns without putting down any measurements as to height, weight or in her case, sexual development.
Just before the dismissal bell rang, Roger had pulled up next to the curb behind the other parental units and took his place in line.
Moments later, the bell rattled about alarmingly.
In his mind, Roger privately wondered when the damn thing was finally going to fall off the wall and break.
For several moments there was stillness, with only a teacher or two to monitor the students as they left for the day.
Soon, the low rumble of voices high and low began to intrude, and moments later the advance wave of students moving as rapidly as the school would allow began streaming towards the exits.
Presently, he saw Freya's red-gold hair and smiling face rising two feet higher than all the others, as she seemingly rode the wave of kids eagerly fleeing for home.
Right behind her was Anita, looking slightly frazzled as always with her oversized book bag slung over one slender shoulder.
For such a slightly built girl, she was surprisingly strong and always carried her weight in any endeavour she chose to undertake.
While Freya stood out by virtue of her sheer size and looks, Anita stood out through her choices in clothing.
Preferring to wear clothing of her own design and making, she dressed to her own style rather than the current designer trends.
While the queen bees boasted of their expensive designer clothes, she described her clothes as 'Larsen originals', and ignored the queen bees.
The two of them smiled as they piled into the van and Roger drove away.
He smiled at Anita and said, "Hazel stopped by today to pick up a package from Ildico to Doctor Shannon. While he was here I introduced him to Flora, she seemed to enjoy the experience."
"How did you manage that?" asked Anita
"Simple, I was out hoeing weeds, she was stalking a bag of nibblies and he stopped to say 'hello!' The rest was easy."
"Ah"
"Oh, I hinted that you had made something for her last night and that you would likely show her the item later on today."
"Awww, you didn't tell her I was making her some clothes did you?"
"Uh, no I did not, I just told her you'd made something for her and that she'd likely see it later today."
Roger glanced up at the rear view mirror so he could see her, "Was I not supposed to say anything?"
"I would've preferred you didn't say anything..."
"Sorry."
"It's not that big of a deal, I'll think of something before I see her this afternoon."
"Okay."
A few minutes later Roger parked the van in their driveway and shut it off.
Out the corner of his left eye he saw a flicker of movement up near Samson's corral. When he gazed directly at it, he saw it was Flora happily spoiling Samson with some carrots.
"Speak of the devil," he said, "There she is now, up by Samson's place."
Freya muttered, "Doobtless she's spoilin' his tatties an' neebs by givin' heem aw those carrots Ah use fur his treats!"
Roger chuckled and remarked, "She feels safer with him nearby, he could fight off a night gaunt with those great hooves of his, and if he bites one. Let's just say, it'll leave a mark!"
He smiled, "Besides, he'll raise the alarm and I've got something for any night gaunt, an Ithaca Hogslayer shotgun. It'll bang out eight rounds of double ought buckshot or rifled slugs in short order!"
Freya looked at him and said bluntly, "An' yoo'll nae be shootin' onie night gaunt while th' wolvies ur tanglin' wi' it, ye coods burst a body!"
Roger smiled and replied, "Between the wolvies and Samson and you jumping in, I may never get to fire a shot."
"Guid! Ye neednae be bangin' awa wi' onie kinda gun doon haur an' bringin' th' police a'lookin' arroond."
Anita sighed and said, "You two work it out, Imma talking to Flora!" and she set out for the barn where Samson lived.
That evening, Anita stayed up in her room while the rest of the gang enjoyed a simple dinner made by Silky.
After dinner, Roger and Warren enjoyed a flagon of Jotun ale while Freya worked on her homework and studied up for a history quiz the following day.
At the tolling of the tenth hour, Warren sighed and remarked, "I have to be up early tomorrow, a shipment of rare books from Romania are arriving at seven A.M. And I need to be there to receive them."
"Sounds fun." replied Roger as he took the two empty flagons to get washed.
Warren grinned, "It's actually pretty cool seeing some of the shipping documents in languages I can't even read!"
Pulling on his cloak, Warren whistled softly and Astrid rose to her feet, her floofy tail wagging.
Grinning at his giant wolf companion Warren said cheerfully, "Ready to go home now?"
Astrid let out a short, not quite bark that sounded more like a 'boof' than a bark.
He laughed, "I'll take that as a 'yes' then!"
Roger let the pair out the back kitchen door and stood outside for a few moments while he watched them trudging up the hill towards hearth and home.
When they were almost out of sight, he heard a slight sound behind him and saw Anita coming outside with Flora close behind her.
The two hugged each other briefly and as Flora turned to leave, Anita said quietly, "I hope to have it finished in another day or so, that way Silky won't object to your being inside the house."
Flora smiled at her benefactress and said, "Thank you!" before she turned and trotted up the hill to her den.
Anita saw Roger standing there and asked, "How long were you out here?"
"From about 30 seconds before you and Flora came outside. I was watching Warren and Astrid as they left, just before you guys came out."
"So you weren't checking up on us then?"
Roger refrained from a sarcastic reply but said, "Unless you prove otherwise, I like to think of you as a responsible young woman who doesn't require my close supervision."
"In other words, you have better things to do than watch over me?"
Roger smiled and replied, "I would never go that far. Your mom entrusted you to my care and I do take that seriously, I just don't feel the need to hold onto the reins tightly. You're young, you'll make mistakes, they happen and hopefully, you'll learn from them.
"My purpose is to keep the really bad things from happening to you while letting you find your own way with a minimum of scarring, physical or emotional."
"Ah, okay...Thanks!"
"You're welcome!" he said as they stepped inside and he closed and secured the door behind them.
The next day being a Saturday, everyone tried to sleep in late.
Only Silky had other ideas, and they found themselves eating a light breakfast in preparation for the task ahead, a spring cleaning.
After breakfast, Silky by signs, directed Roger and Freya outside where they saw buckets filled with water and a pile of wash cloths and clean rags.
Their job was to clean the furniture that Silky brought out of the house by making it float, so she could send it outside.
Next, Silky drafted Anita and Dena into washing all the dishes, the pots and all the rest of the cook ware.
To Roger's surprise, Dena did not raise her pipsqueak of a voice in protest, although the tittering of the sprites was quite lively when they swarmed out of the house and settled onto the eaves of the house, to wait until the cleaning was finished.
Even Flora got drafted when she came down from the oak tree she lived in.
To her surprise, Silky presented her with a mid thigh length tee shirt and a feather duster.
Apparently, her job was to dust the shelves and corners of the big house they all shared.
Flora beamed when presented with the aforementioned items and she quickly pulled the tee shirt over her nakedness and took up the task before her.
Freya looked up from her wiping down one of the chairs and said, "Looks loch uir wood nymph is tryin' tae get in guid wi' Silky."
Roger smiled and remarked, "Wouldn't you? I didn't know she could make things float like that, what else can she do that we don't know about?"
Freya shrugged and said, "She is fae an' fae can dae mony things we cannot, loch hoo Dena can teel us whit th' wolvies ur hinkin'."
Roger could only smile at her remark, it was all too true.
They paused in their labors briefly when Silky, wearing boy's clothing and carrying a wicker basket filled with what looked like dandelion tufts, came outside, looked up at the clustered sprites, pointed at Maribel, then beckoned to her.
Maribel fluttered down and stood in Silky's outstretched hand while Silky whispered to her.
A few moments later Maribel flew back to her gathered sprites and tittered at them for a few moments.
Roger and Freya glanced at each other and shrugged, what could Silky be up to now?
They got their answer when many of the sprites fluttered down from the eaves, circled around Silky while she handed out tiny dust mops then when they each had a miniature dust mop, they swarmed back inside the huge house built for a retired circus giant couple.
For her grand finale, Silky looked up at all the closed windows and with a wave of her gloved hand, they all opened at once with a bang.
She smiled at Roger and he bowed slightly towards her as a sign of respect.
After all, wasn't she the keeper of their house?
That evening as Roger and Warren enjoyed an after dinner flagon of ale, Warren looked around and said, "The house looks different somehow..."
Roger smiled and replied, "It should, while you were sorting through that book delivery yesterday. We were engaged in a spring house cleaning, under Silky's direction."
"Did the cleaning also involve changing the wall paper and the flooring?"
Roger glanced down at the parquet flooring now underfoot in the front parlour and replied, "It involved all of us, even the sprites got drafted into waging war against the dust bunnies, with tiny dust mops she provided for them."
Warren laughed and said, "I'm guessing I dodged quite a bullet then?"
"You could say that."
Warren smiled and said, "I'll have to stop by Oak View Dairy and pick up a bottle of extra heavy cream tomorrow then."
Roger chuckled and remarked, "Nice save bro!"
After Warren and Astrid had left for the evening.
Roger was back in his study reading more of his findings on the Paul Bunyan tales when he heard a soft knock on his door.
"Come in!" he called out.
The door opened and Anita came in first with a smile on her pretty face.
Roger smiled at her and said, "And how is your little project coming along?"
Anita beamed and said, "I, no we, have something to show you!"
She turned towards the door and beckoned to someone waiting outside.
That 'someone' turned out to be Flora, who was wearing an outfit Anita had made for her.
It was a simple garment, designed more for modesty rather than catching the eye.
In keeping with her being a northern wood nymph, it resembled a dirndl as worn by many Jotun girls and Oktoberfest beer hall girls.
Anita smiled and said, "That, is her renfaire outfit, for when we take her with us."
Roger smiled at Anita's audacity.
"Next, is her urban street attire."
To Roger's pleasant surprise, Flora doffed her outfit and hastily put on what amounted to a 'Portland Grunge' outfit, except it had a longish skirt and a buttoned up top rather than faded jeans and a sleeveless knit top, to hide Flora's deerlike legs and hooves.
A Sherpa cap covered her long deerlike ears and growing horns.
Anita grinned, "Annnd this is what I really wanted to make for her!"
She smiled and said, "Don't go away!"
Just before she hustled Flora back out of his study with a cheery, "Be right back!"
A few minutes later, the door opened once more and Anita entered the room wearing her black silk Goth Loli finery with all the trimmings, including an elaborately decorated parasol.
She strolled about his room as if she were on the promenade at Hyde park, until she stopped, turned towards the door and beckoned.
Moments later, Flora wafted into the room wearing a caramel colored, silk outfit that hugged her slender curves quite intimately from her shoulders down to her tiny waist where it flowed over her svelte hips and jutted out behind and over a small bustle to cover her tail.
The dress ended just at her knees in front and flowed downwards towards her rear to just above the carpeting on his floor.
Silk stockings covered her delicate legs and specially made shoes covered her cloven hooves.
Her luxurious dark hair was confined by matching silk ribbons and a tiny top hat was perched at a jaunty angle just behind her growing horns.
Flora strolled about his room just like Anita had done earlier until she stopped, turned towards Roger and smiled, her perfect lips glistening redly from the lip gloss Anita had applied.
The effect was devastating and only Roger's unspoken vow of celibacy kept him from falling under her enchantment.
He whistled softly and said quietly, "Flora, you are truly a beautiful young woman, one of the loveliest I have ever beheld."
He stood up and bowed towards Anita before saying, "Anita, you are a young woman of many talents and I feel quite fortunate to know you."
He grinned, "This is amazing and yes, I will be adding this to my next report to my boss!"
Sitting down again he asked, "So, when can we expect Flora to make an appearance at dinner?"
Anita smiled and replied, "It'll be a little while, Flora's still pretty shy. You have no idea what it took for me to get her to wear these tonight!"
He smiled, "Take all the time you need, the gang can wait."
The enormous grandfather clock in the front hallway tolled the midnight hour and Roger said quietly, "Welp that's my cue, it's my bedtime and would be yours too, if it was a weekday."
The two young women, one human, the other a faun wished him a good night and with a soft rustling of silken clothing, left him to his musings.