Chapter 5
Flying as fast as he could, he looked around desperately for a spot of shelter. Having finally finished preparing the land for winter a week behind schedule, he had been unable to make it home before the first of the storms hit. Torrential rain fell all around him, and he knew that if he did not find shelter soon, his wings would be too soaked to carry him any further.
Eventually he came upon a small grove of trees on the outskirts of a field. Hesitating, he knew the trees would not be the best shelter in this storm, but he doubted he would be able to find better anytime soon. Fighting a particularly strong gust of wind, he finally made it to the grove.
Searching around, he found a spot up against a particularly sturdy spruce tree that was decently dry. With practiced movements, he pulled the water from his soaking clothes and bags, sending it towards a small rivulet wending its way through the trees. Sighing in contentment at being dry once again, he pulled out some of his bread from a market town he had passed the day before and began to nibble on it lightly. Dry and fed, he gave in to his exhaustion and fell asleep.
Several hours later he was awoken by a change in the wind. Where he had been comfortably settled and protected from the rain before now no longer offered such cover. Frustrated, he looked around trying to find another spot to wait out the storm without success. Before long he began to try to coax the tree into moving its branches to offer him protection, but the tree would not comply with his wishes. Cursing himself for having delayed his journey, he found himself wishing he had been trapped in a grove of flowers instead; at least they would obey his will.
As he continued to fight with the tree, he was startled to hear soft laughter from behind him. Reaching for his sword as he spun around, he was surprised to find himself face to face with the elfish woman he had met a fortnight ago. Infuriated that she was laughing at him, he raised his sword in challenge, which of course only served to make her laugh harder.
"There is no need for your weapon milord," she said as she tried to contain her mirth. "If I had truly wished you harm, you would've been shot before you had even been aware of my presence."
With a sneer, he quickly sheathed his sword and turned again to the tree determined not to pay her any attention. As the tree continued to fight against him, he was unable to shake the feeling that she was standing directly behind him still silently laughing.
"Allow me, milord," she said. Without saying another word, she walked past him towards the tree and touched the trunk. Whispering a few words in the ancient language, she began to wave her hands as the tree followed her movements with its branches. Before long, several trees had formed a tight dome around the duo providing protection from both the wind and the rain. Amazed at her skills with the trees, and frustrated that he had been incapable of such magic himself, he finally allowed himself to fully observe his new companion.
She was dressed in a dark green tunic over her trousers and covered in a thick brown cloak. Her long auburn hair was falling out of its single braid hanging down her back. Drenched from the rain, it took him several moments to realize she was also covered head to foot in mud. Struggling not to give in to his own laughter, he looked up into her green eyes only to see them raised in question. Embarrassed at having been caught staring at her, he quickly donned a neutral facade and turned away looking for a dry spot to sit.
Hiding her own discomposure, she quickly apologized for not having secured them anywhere to sit, but hoped he was satisfied enough with the shelter. Concern at the rueful tone of her voice caused him to glance her way again, only to realize that she was colder and more miserable than him.
"If you would be so kind as to form a bowl from those leaves over there, madam, I would be happy to provide both a dry spot for us to sit as well as water for you to wash from."
With a raised eyebrow she replied, "So, the fair prince has manners does he? This is indeed a delightful discovery." Laughing once more at the heightened color in his cheeks she continued. "Of course it would be my pleasure to do as milord commands." And with a flourish, she waved her hand as the leaves nearby rose into the air and settled back down onto the ground having formed a perfect bowl. Having finished her task, she then looked up to him waiting for him to do as he said he would.
With his own flourish, he once again used his magic and pulled the water from her hair and clothes, as well as from the ground beneath the shelter of the trees. He watched her look of awe with pleasure, glad that he could impress her with his powers, and sent the water neatly into the bowl of leaves without losing a single drop.
Without saying a word, he motioned towards the bowl in an invitation for her to wash up while he once again settled himself against a tree trunk. Hesitantly, she began to wash the mud from her face as he watched her every movement. With a smirk, he realized his staring was making her uncomfortable; a fitting punishment for her ill treatment of him when they had last met. Once she had settled herself against her own tree trunk, she lifted her eyes defiantly to meet his.
Determined not to let this elf best him again, he decided he would be the first to speak.
"So, my dear Ellette, what brings you to this small grove of trees so far from your forests?"
Puzzled she cocked her head. "Ellette?"
"Indeed that is what I have decided you shall be called."
"You decided?"
"Most certainly," he replied with a smug smile pleased that she had taken his bait. "You were most uncivil by refusing to leave me a name with which I might call you when we last met that I determined I must give you one myself."
"So you settled on calling me 'Little Elf'?" She asked, a trace of ire flashing in her eyes.
"I believed it to be most fitting. After all, even as a woman you are very small for one of your race."
"Ah. So milord has a sense of humor as well as manners," she said with a harsh laugh leaning forward. "I might perhaps then agree that Ellette will suit me fine. Much better, I might say, than calling you 'Fair One'. What kind of name is that? Were you named such because you are one of the fair race? Or perhaps it is based off of your fair complexion and hair. Wait, I know. You were named 'Fair One' because you are destined to be a fair ruler."
Refusing to give in to his anger and let her win, Eavan nonchalantly shrugged off her laughter and replied, "Perhaps you might consider that I was indeed named for all three of those reasons."
Eyes wide open in shock she looked at him unwilling to believe that he refused to be affected by her words. Laughing at her with much amusement he said, "Now that I have sated your curiosity regarding our names, you could honor me with a reply to my own query."
Shaking her head to rid it of the confusing manners of the man in front of her she settled further into her tree before answering. "Due to the increased presence of the druids in our forests, we were unable to secure enough food for the winter. I am one of many elves who were sent across the land to hunt." At this she gestured towards a large cart he had failed to notice before, filled with many bundles wrapped in bark and leaves which he assumed were the animals she had killed. "Unfortunately," she continued, "I was detained a few days ago by a band of rogue elves that were unhappy that I had trespassed upon 'their' forest. I was hoping to arrive home today but I had failed to notice this storms approach.
"I had been unable to find shelter for several miles, and knew that to protect the food I have gathered, I needed to get out of the storm and quickly. Upon spying this grove of trees, I knew it was my best option. Imagine my surprise to find the Fairy Prince upon my arrival trying to influence the trees to do his will. I would have thought if you had been as desperate for shelter as you appeared, you would have been better off shrinking yourself down to a smaller size and hiding among a thick patch of pine needles."
"And risk getting swept away by the wind? I had thought you were in possession of better wits than that, or perhaps my demise would have been preferable to you," he scoffed.
Paling, she quickly began to apologize. "Milord, indeed I had not thought of that. Please forgive me for my thoughtless comment. Of course in such a storm a larger size must indeed be to your advantage."
Knitting his eyebrows in concern he looked at her. She was indeed distraught at the thought that she had so carelessly suggested something so harmful to him. Wishing to ease her discomfort, without knowing why, he reached over to where she sat, took her hand and bestowed a kiss upon it. "Fear not Ellette that I hold any animosity towards you for your suggestion. It is understandable that one who is unused to the ability of changing ones size would not consider such things to be so dangerous."
Blushing at his touch, she mumbled a simple thank you before they both settled back against their trees in companionable silence.
Shortly afterwards, the elf looked up towards him and asked if he would care for some dinner as she herself was quite famished. Nodding in appreciation he offered what little bread he had left, but she merely shook her head, walked over to her cart and retrieved a small package of meat. Having declined his offer of assistance, she began to prepare the meat and the fire. However, when she reached for her flint to start the fire, she dropped it among the many packages in the cart.
Instead of letting her unpack her cart simply to retrieve the flint, Eavan offered to find it himself. Shrinking down to the size of a small bird, he was able to fly between the packages towards the bottom of the cart and easily found the flint. When he had returned to his normal size, he was amused at the look of astonishment upon her face.
"Do I so astonish you, Ellette that you must stare in such a brazen manner at me?" he teased.
Blushing, she closed her mouth and turned away in embarrassment as she started the fire. "I must admit," she stammered, "that I was indeed surprised you could actually change your size. I had thought perhaps that you were merely trying to impress me with your words so that I would release you. I of course did not believe you."
Frowning he said, "I will not deny that I was indeed trying to manipulate you into letting myself go. I am surprised, however, that you would doubt my word about my abilities. Despite what you may have heard about me, I do not make a practice of going around boasting of skills I do not have. For that matter, it is only in extreme circumstances that I boast of those I do have, and it is never a comfortable experience for me. It is why I volunteered for this job; I grow quite tired of the constant attentions I receive at home."
"Forgive me then, milord, for having caused you such distress. I suppose you were right; I truly do not know you or what it is I am talking about."
"You must stop all this apologizing. Although I do enjoy it more than your high and mighty demeanor, I find myself quite displeased with it." Smiling at the look of shock upon her face he continued. "I admit that of the many sides to your personality I have seen thus far, I much prefer your light and teasing manners. Now with that thought in mind, might I ask why it is you doubted my abilities?"
Chuckling quietly, she shyly looked up from the fire into his eyes. "Are you sure that milord would care to hear my reasoning? For I would not wish to make him feel like a fool."
"Try me," he challenged, truly enjoying himself for the first time that evening.
"I sat there in that forest for three hours watching you struggle against those branches. I had thought that if you could truly change your size, you would have. It would have made your imprisonment of quite a short duration."
Amazed, she watched as he threw his head back and laughed, his rich tenor tones filling their little shelter with joy. Before long she found herself laughing along with him, unable to remove her eyes from his dancing blue ones.
"Are you telling me, Ellette, that I could have simply shrunk myself and escaped your branches?" he asked wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
"Indeed I am. Actually, if you had done so from the very beginning, I would not have been able to detain you at all. Although we elves are the greatest hunters in the world, not even we could hit a moving fly."
Her last statement caused his laughter to begin anew, and the two spent the evening sharing stories filled with joy and amusement. Eventually the elf began to doze, and having slept earlier, Eavan insisted she lay down to rest while he kept watch.
Shortly after dawn, he woke her to let her know that the storm had finally passed and they should continue on their way. After being assured that she was not in need of his assistance or company he bid her farewell and turned to leave when she called him back. Turning expectantly towards her, he was amused to see her shyly looking down at the ground while shuffling her feet back and forth.
"Iliana."
"Pardon me?" he asked confused.
"Iliana. My name. It is Iliana."
Smiling he said, "'Bright'. Now would that be for the brightness of your spirit, or perhaps your smile? Yet still, could it be the brightness that shines from your bewitching eyes?"
"Yes," she whispered, neither denying nor confirming his conjectures.
Walking back towards her, he once again took her hand in is and bestowed a kiss upon it. "I do believe 'Bright' is an apt description for you, milady. Yet I find myself still quite partial to Ellette."
With that he dropped her hand and flew off laughing quietly, leaving her behind with a bemused smile upon her face mumbling about the proud and arrogant fairy.
.
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Dazed, Darcy woke up from his unexpected nap, smiling at that morning's scene which had caused that particular memory to surface. The previous evening while the gentlemen of Netherfield were dining with the officers, Bingley's sisters had invited the eldest Bennet daughter to dine with them. Unfortunately for the young lady, she had been sent over by her mother on horseback and had been caught in the rain. During dinner she had taken cold and had been shown to a room for the night. That morning, shortly after receiving a note from her ailing sister, Miss Elizabeth made the journey herself on foot.
She had been shown into the breakfast room while the household was still partaking of their morning repast. The various reactions of the room's occupants upon her entry were not lost upon Darcy, although he had eyes only for her. Her eyes sparkled with the joy of exercise, her cheeks brightened by the outdoor chill and her windswept hair was escaping from her simple bun under her bonnet. All this he noticed, yet it was her hems covered in mud that truly caught his attention, much as it had that stormy day long ago.
Unable to mutter more than a simple greeting at the unexpected pleasure of her presence, Darcy was thrilled that Bingley at least was able to offer her a proper welcome. Surely that would have been the duty of the mistress of the house, but Miss Bingley seemed much too preoccupied with staring at Miss Elizabeth in dismay.
While Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst accompanied their new guest upstairs to Miss Bennet's room, Darcy grudgingly joined the other gentlemen for a day of sport. Much to Mr. Hurst's disappointment and Darcy's relief, Bingley was not as attentive as he normally was due to his concern over Miss Bennet's health. Thankfully, Bingley decided to end the day early wishing to check up on her progress.
Worried that he would miss her, Darcy was thrilled to arrive just in time to hear Miss Bingley change her offer to Miss Elizabeth from the carriage home to staying until her sister's recovery. The joy and happiness he felt at her staying in the same house as him for a few days seemed to shine from her eyes as well; although he soon realized her joy was at the relief of not leaving her sister to be cared for by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.
Knowing that he would not likely have an opportunity to converse with Miss Elizabeth until dinner, Darcy had retired to the library to read a new book he had recently purchased. However, he had been unable to concentrate on the tome in his hands as his mind wandered to the picture Miss Elizabeth had presented upon her arrival that morning. Lost in his thoughts he had dozed off.
Upon waking, he realized that it was past time to begin to dress for dinner, and that his valet was most likely waiting impatiently for his master. Quickly scooping up his forgotten book from the seat, Darcy strode out of the library upstairs to his room anxious for the opportunity to see his love again.
