I awoke to a large fire and warm blanket. In front of me on a table
was some of the porridge I had eaten the day before. I grabbed it and
started eating like someone starved. My dreams that night had been so
vivid, it was almost like they had actually happened. I laughed at the
thought. There was no gorgeous man watching over me. I was alone in an
enchanted cottage, that was all. I looked down at the empty bowl in my
hand. I needed to find a way to get dinner and supper, or I would soon
starve. The cottage couldn't do everything for me.
"Would you like some more?" I started, dropping the bowl onto my lap. I turned, even though I already knew who it was. The voice was unmistakable. He was standing beside the chair. He was real. He was offering me more porridge, and I was acting like a fool.
"No, thank you." I set the bowl on the table, then stood in front of this god-like man, wringing my hands.
"Would you like more clothes?" he asked me. I looked down at my wrinkled garments, then back to him.
"If it isn't a burden." I could use a brush also. But that could wait.
The man walked into another room and I could hear him rummaging around. Oh, he was there. He was real. Could he really be there? Of course not. I pinched my arm, and then flinched. Ow! So it wasn't a dream. But maybe he was one of those otherworldly devils father had warned me about. This was an enchanted cottage, after all. He could be one of the Faerie Folk, waiting to lure me onto his raft and keep me forever, laughing as I did everything wrong.
He walked back in, his hands full of a soft, silk-like fabric. I looked over, in awe of the expensive cloth. Gleaming green, the color of the trees hanging their branches over the cottage, up to the sky. He unfolded it, and I realized it was a dress. A beautiful, expensive dress, for me to wear casually. For me to work in. I couldn't possibly.
"Here, take it." He said, holding it out to me, seeing the awe in my eyes. I reached forward, fingering the soft material. Oh, how it would feel to slide into this, as if I wore something like it every day I could see the Delicate embroidery on the sleeves, framing the neck line. I took it, caressing it like a newborn child. My eyes gleamed as I looked back at him.
"Are you sure you want me to wear this? It seems like something for a special occasion. I need to work. You can't care for me always." I held tightly to the dress, not wanting to let it go, but knowing I had to. He had made a mistake.
"It is a special occasion. Put it on. I'd like to see you in it." His eyes flickered, an emotion passing quickly through them, unidentifiable. He turned, walking back into the room he had come from, and waited. I lifted the dress to my body, looked down on it. It was so lovely. I turned, making sure he wasn't there, and took off my shirt, quickly pulling the dress down over my head. I shrugged out of the breeches, pulling the dress into the right position. I marveled at how perfectly it fit me, as if made for me, and no one else. The fabric was soft and wonderfully smooth against my skin, and my red curls looked as flame against the fabric. My neck looked bare, and I longed for jewelry to complete the wonderful picture I had made.
I heard a sound behind me, and turned to see the man holding a necklace. It was small, and delicate, made of braided gold and small amber stones that hung regularly on the chain, in a beautiful pattern with the emeralds, looking like Brandy roses in full bloom, the leaves vivid green and the petals tender and bright. I held my hair away from my neck, and he placed the necklace tenderly on my milk white skin. I turned, and smiled, the quiet companionable after a short moment of tension. His eyes seemed to take in every part of me, and I felt as if her could hear the swift beating of my heart against my ribs as I gazed at him, his black hair gleaming, like a raven feathers.
"You look beautiful, a ghra. The dress suits you." He had changed also, it seemed. He wore a pair of black breeches, made from a material I had never seen, but looked as soft as falling snow. His navy blue shirt was delicately embroidered, the stitches invisible on the hem. As much as I marveled at the handiwork of this creation, ever more was I amazed at how he looked in it. He was more handsome than when I had first seen him, seeming to glow with an inner light. He smiled, and my heart seemed to melt. I gasped, shocked. My pulse beat rapidly in my head. Could it be? This was impossible. I didn't even know his name, and I had fallen, hard and deep, and I was afraid I would never get out of this instantaneous love I had foolishly leapt into.
"Would you like some more?" I started, dropping the bowl onto my lap. I turned, even though I already knew who it was. The voice was unmistakable. He was standing beside the chair. He was real. He was offering me more porridge, and I was acting like a fool.
"No, thank you." I set the bowl on the table, then stood in front of this god-like man, wringing my hands.
"Would you like more clothes?" he asked me. I looked down at my wrinkled garments, then back to him.
"If it isn't a burden." I could use a brush also. But that could wait.
The man walked into another room and I could hear him rummaging around. Oh, he was there. He was real. Could he really be there? Of course not. I pinched my arm, and then flinched. Ow! So it wasn't a dream. But maybe he was one of those otherworldly devils father had warned me about. This was an enchanted cottage, after all. He could be one of the Faerie Folk, waiting to lure me onto his raft and keep me forever, laughing as I did everything wrong.
He walked back in, his hands full of a soft, silk-like fabric. I looked over, in awe of the expensive cloth. Gleaming green, the color of the trees hanging their branches over the cottage, up to the sky. He unfolded it, and I realized it was a dress. A beautiful, expensive dress, for me to wear casually. For me to work in. I couldn't possibly.
"Here, take it." He said, holding it out to me, seeing the awe in my eyes. I reached forward, fingering the soft material. Oh, how it would feel to slide into this, as if I wore something like it every day I could see the Delicate embroidery on the sleeves, framing the neck line. I took it, caressing it like a newborn child. My eyes gleamed as I looked back at him.
"Are you sure you want me to wear this? It seems like something for a special occasion. I need to work. You can't care for me always." I held tightly to the dress, not wanting to let it go, but knowing I had to. He had made a mistake.
"It is a special occasion. Put it on. I'd like to see you in it." His eyes flickered, an emotion passing quickly through them, unidentifiable. He turned, walking back into the room he had come from, and waited. I lifted the dress to my body, looked down on it. It was so lovely. I turned, making sure he wasn't there, and took off my shirt, quickly pulling the dress down over my head. I shrugged out of the breeches, pulling the dress into the right position. I marveled at how perfectly it fit me, as if made for me, and no one else. The fabric was soft and wonderfully smooth against my skin, and my red curls looked as flame against the fabric. My neck looked bare, and I longed for jewelry to complete the wonderful picture I had made.
I heard a sound behind me, and turned to see the man holding a necklace. It was small, and delicate, made of braided gold and small amber stones that hung regularly on the chain, in a beautiful pattern with the emeralds, looking like Brandy roses in full bloom, the leaves vivid green and the petals tender and bright. I held my hair away from my neck, and he placed the necklace tenderly on my milk white skin. I turned, and smiled, the quiet companionable after a short moment of tension. His eyes seemed to take in every part of me, and I felt as if her could hear the swift beating of my heart against my ribs as I gazed at him, his black hair gleaming, like a raven feathers.
"You look beautiful, a ghra. The dress suits you." He had changed also, it seemed. He wore a pair of black breeches, made from a material I had never seen, but looked as soft as falling snow. His navy blue shirt was delicately embroidered, the stitches invisible on the hem. As much as I marveled at the handiwork of this creation, ever more was I amazed at how he looked in it. He was more handsome than when I had first seen him, seeming to glow with an inner light. He smiled, and my heart seemed to melt. I gasped, shocked. My pulse beat rapidly in my head. Could it be? This was impossible. I didn't even know his name, and I had fallen, hard and deep, and I was afraid I would never get out of this instantaneous love I had foolishly leapt into.