Chapter 3
He had been sitting there hidden on the outskirts of the grove watching them perform their ritual for days. Entranced by their movements, he failed to see why his father believed them to be so dangerous. It was true that they had magic, yet it was weak, and unless they wanted to heal or kill someone, it was also quite useless. The druids were no threat to their way of life.
Still he was intrigued. Here were mortals who worshiped more gods and deities than he could keep track of. They were unafraid of death and as a result performed useless human sacrifices which he had been unable to watch. They also had an uncanny knowledge of herbs and plants along with their uses. It was from this knowledge and use that their supposed magic came from. What he found truly entertaining, however, was the fear sorcerer's had of them despite the fact that unlike the druids, they had true magic.
Chuckling to himself, he thought about the recent war between the sorcerer's and the druids. For a short time the two groups had lived in peace among themselves; all except Merlin, that is. However, the old man had disappeared not long after the death of King Arthur and without a common enemy, war between the druids and sorcerers began again. It was a sad day among the fairies when the last of the sorcerers had died; the day they removed themselves from among the mortals.
Despite his father's insistence that they could no longer interact with non fairies, Eavan could not stay away; he believed peace for all was possible, an ideal he had learned from Merlin himself. Merlin had taught Arthur to respect all persons, that everyone should be treated equally, and that magic need not be used to gain power. It was this last ideal that had angered the druids and sorcerers for they believed themselves to be privileged. This same ideal had inspired Eavan to study other beings. For he believed that only by understanding them could they live in peace.
He had been sent out to prepare the land for the coming winter when he had come upon the druids. They were celebrating the end of the harvest season, and the celebration and rituals had been continuing on for three days. He knew he was shirking his duties, yet he could not tear himself away. He wished to know all about them in the hopes that in the two decades since the war, their hearts had softened towards those who had true powers. Though despite his curiosity, fear of being outnumbered should he be wrong and discovered to be a fairy had kept him in the shadows, content to simply observe. Soon he would have to leave to complete his task, but for now he had no wish to do so.
The rustle of the wind from behind him caused him to perk up listening to his surroundings. It held the scent of an animal and the deep forest. It also held another scent he could not quite make out, that of another magical being. Carefully, so as not to attract attention to his presence, he unsheathed his sword and sunk deeper into the shadows. Still listening, he could detect no movement. Cautiously he lowered his sword and began to turn to once again watch the druids when he came face to face with a pair of emerald green eyes aiming an arrow straight at his heart.
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Darcy paced agitatedly in his room at Netherfield, a half empty glass of brandy in his hand. Unable to sleep, he had spent the night uncertain as to what he should do. He had insulted Miss Elizabeth in a most cruel manner and in turn, she had made known to all in attendance of his proud and disagreeable manners. His company in Hertfordshire would be unwelcome, yet tolerated for the sake of his agreeable friend.
Cursing himself for his remarks, he had allowed himself to wallow in his guilt as he downed his glass and reached for the decanter to refill it. How was it possible he had not recognized her right away as he should have? If he had, he would have been blessed with her hand for a set or two, and her smile and laughter shared with him and not with others at his expense. He had not insulted her so since their very first meeting.
As guilt is wont to do, he soon began to doubt. Perhaps his original assumption was correct and Miss Elizabeth was not Iliana. It is possible that he had not truly seen that flash of green in her eyes as she passed by him. He began to wonder if it had been merely a figment of his imagination. After all, he could not deny that he had found her most attractive; perhaps he only saw what he wanted to see. If indeed such was the case, there would be no need to repair the damage he had caused. Between the lady herself and her family, he believed the task would be difficult indeed; a task he was unsure if he could truly accomplish.
For hours he had gone back and forth between his guilt and doubt unable to reach a settled conclusion. His mind wished to believe that he had good reason to doubt while his heart rebelled at the thought. Eventually he decided that the best course of action was to simply observe her every chance he had and hope for another sign to prove whether or not she was Iliana. As the sun began to peek over the distant hills, Darcy finally set his brandy aside and gave in to his exhaustion hoping for a few hours of undisturbed slumber, recalling the first time they had met.
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Unable to take his eyes from the green orbs staring at him, Eavan attempted to raise his sword again only to be halted by the arrow being drawn further back upon its bow. Sighing with resignation, he made a show of slowly sheathing his weapon. Once it was put away and his hands out in front of him again the arms holding the bow and arrow relaxed; but only slightly.
Frustrated with himself for having been too distracted to pay attention to his surroundings, he was slightly relieved to know that the person standing in front of him was not a mortal. Only a magical being could traverse the undergrowth of the grove in complete silence. Yet, he was still embarrassed to have been caught at all.
With a small nudge of the arrow, his captor motioned for him to slowly turn and walk away from the druids in the grove deeper into the forest. As he walked, he felt the arrow trained upon his back and knew that to attempt any escape, magical or otherwise, would cause his captor to let loose the arrow. A fear he had never before felt crept over him. Although considered immortal, any creature, fairies included, could be killed if dealt a fatal physical injury. He did not doubt the aim of his captor.
Once they had traveled a good distance into the forest, his captor signaled for him to stop and seat himself down upon a fallen log. As he did so, he got his first good look at his captor. His embarrassment at being caught increased as he realized his captor was nothing more than a young elf. Face hidden behind a helmet, he was unable to perceive any physical details besides the young man's light build and short stature. It was true that elves were the greatest hunters in all the realms, but even he should not have allowed himself to be caught by a youngling.
Determined not to be the first to speak, Eavan sat up straighter allowing the young elf his own perusal. He would not be intimidated. After several uncomfortable minutes of silence, the elf slowly lowered his arms yet did not release his hold on the arrow, poised and ready to shoot at a moment's notice.
"Who are you fairy and what business do you have in our forest?"
Eavan was surprised by the light and airy tone of the elf's voice; an elf much younger than he had thought, although the voice also held much strength and confidence. Quickly trying to don an air of boredom, he merely raised an eyebrow and asked for the elf's name in return for his own.
With a chuckle the elf raised the arrow and said, "I believe I am the one asking the questions and I demand an answer."
"Very well then, if you must know I am Eavan, son of Adair, King of the fairies." He finished with a flourishing half bow from his seated position on the log.
"Well, well, well," the young elf chuckled. "Today seems to be my lucky day, for my catch will reap quite the handsome reward."
Anger caused the corner of his mouth to rise into a snarl. He had hoped by revealing his identity that his captor would realize his mistake and let him go. Instead the elf seemed to be laughing at him with no intention of releasing him. Drawing himself even higher on the log in an attempt to intimidate the elf led only to outright laughter.
"My, aren't we quite the self-important being."
Eavan bristled at the impudence of the elf. "Important yes, after all I am my father's sole heir. As to self-import, I know not what you mean. Now I insist that you release me and in return I will promise you that word of your indiscretion will not be heard of from me."
"Hah! You trespass on our land and make demands of me?" The elf soon was unable to control his laughter which served only to increase Eavan's anger. "Yes, indeed you are quite full of yourself milord." Finishing with a mock half bow, the elf once again raised the arrow to point at his chest.
"If anyone is full of themselves it would be you, son," Eavan replied ignoring the amused expression in the elf's eyes. "For it is obvious to me that you do not understand who exactly it is you hold prisoner. It is understandable though since you are so young in age. I would not expect a mere youngling such as yourself to understand the folly of what it is you have done."
"A youngling you say. Ignorant, too. Is this what you have to blame me of?" Eavan watched as a flash of ire sparkled in the elf's eyes. Yet despite the anger there, he could not shake himself of the feeling that the elf was still laughing at him. "Indeed I must be the most ignorant of elves as I have captured the pride of the fairy realm. Quite the impossible feat as it is said that his powers know no limits, his strength unbeatable, and his kindness unparalleled. He was born, after all, with the suns rising on the summer solstice. On that day it is said that the skies sung his praises, claiming him as their own for he would be the one to lead the fairies through all eternity. Oh and did I neglect that there is no rival for his abundant good looks. Oh how all the ladies must swoon in your presence."
"At least I can boast of tempting the ladies," Eavan replied with a sneer letting his anger get the best of him. "A pleasure I can assure you will never have with such cheek as you possess."
"Ah, but I have no desire nor need to tempt the ladies milord. If you wish to insult me, you must do better than that."
"A young man who does not wish for a lady's pleasures? Indeed you are the most ignorant and perhaps dim-witted elf imaginable."
"No, milord, it is you who is lacking of intelligence here." All trace of amusement was gone from the elf's voice. "I am all amazement that you took my suggestion to find a better insult to heart. I after all am the one who has captured you and keep an arrow trained at your heart. Is it so unbearable to you that you have been caught by me that you feel the honest need to insult what you do not know?"
"I know that I can and will overpower you. Did you not consider the possibility that I have only been humoring you? After all, you have boasted of the great pride you will receive at having caught me and as magnanimous as I am, how can I deny you of your boast. How is it by the way that a youngling has been allowed to hunt all by himself? I had thought the elves possessed better sense than to let a child out close to the mortals alone."
Fury shone from the elf's eyes. "You are the one who knows not of what he speaks. You are here, in our woods, where we alone can control the trees. You fairies believe yourselves to be all powerful, yet all you do is play with your flowers, flitting from here to there. Besides, how is it that such an important man has such dainty wings? They look far too thin and flimsy to carry your great weight. How embarrassing! And the reason they must boast so of their heir is because he must seem a giant to them all. I thought all fairies to be no larger than a bug."
Ignoring the arrow still aimed at his chest, Eavan stood up and stepped closer to the elf seething in his anger. "I would thank you, son, not to confuse my great race with that of the sprites, spiteful creatures that they are. I must only say that such an accusation from you must derive from your jealousy. I can change my height and size, be as large or small as I wish to be. You, however, are stuck with whatever nature sees fit to hand you. I believed all elves to be tall, proud and graceful beings. You must be ashamed at your small stature. All your fellow younglings must tower over you. Indeed this must be the reason you are so sure of yourself while committing the greatest error of your life. You seek only to impress."
Surprised, he watched as the elf smiled and finally put away his weapons. With a swift movement, the elf reached up to remove his helmet as Eavan fell back upon the log in shock.
Standing before him was not a youngling as he had thought. Instead he watched as a young woman raised her sharp profile to once again stare into his own eyes, her long auburn hair cascading down her back in waves. With a smirk she said, "Perhaps now we might finally agree that I am not the one here who is in error."
If he had thought that the being caught by a youngling was bad enough, it was nothing to the embarrassment he now felt at realizing he had instead been caught by a woman. She appeared to be around the same physical age as him, and he found her beauty quite striking. She also seemed to hold herself in such a manner that spoke of nobility if not royalty. These thoughts, however, merely added to his anger and frustration and seeking to blame her for his predicament instead of himself he said, "Indeed we may. For who could expect a woman to know of what she speaks."
Before he was aware of what was happening, Eavan found himself hanging upside down by branches tightly coiled around his body and leaves gagging his mouth. Unable to move anything other than his head, he watched as the elf began circling around him.
"For an all powerful fairy, I believe you still have much to learn. Even a prince has need of proper manners, something of which you sorely lack. I feel sorry for the ladies of which you earlier bragged about. I would hate to see your pathetic attempts at flattery if today is any indication as to how you feel about the fairer sex. Now, I will give you some time to yourself to think about how you can improve your demeanor. After that, you will be freed and allowed to leave this forest. I will be watching to make sure that you do leave, and if I ever see you in our forest again, I will not hesitate to shoot you."
As she turned to leave, the leaves gagging him fell away and he called after her his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Am I not allowed to at least have the pleasure of knowing to whom I may credit this afternoon's event?"
Pausing, she turned around and quirked her head considering his request. Chuckling quietly she said, "No. I do not believe you are worthy of such information milord. If today is any indication of how you feel about me, then I would not grant you any power over me by giving you my name. Good day milord."
Amazed he watched as she sauntered away. "Insufferable little elf," he mumbled much to the amusement of the elf, her laughter lingering as she disappeared amongst the trees.
