{A/N}: What's this? An update? Yesh! This is…kinda an in-between chapter, and it's sort of short. The whole mood has changed up, and I think I may have caused more questions than actually answering some. But regular Fjóla shall return soon! If you're confused about anything, I'll try my best to explain as I go along with the rest of the story. Ah well, I promise to have the next one out waaaay sooner! Btw, Michaela, you. were. spot. on. XD Amazing, really! And that song! Yes…just yes, I have deemed it this fanfic's theme.

As always excuse errors and typos. I write this while half-asleep, geh. Only time I'm inspired, but I'll go back over it and correct them.

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7-Swim Out of the Current-

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Fjóla bit her tongue, to keep from blurting out something stupid, as Nuada turned away from her. Unmoving, she watched with forced passiveness as wide eyed surprise flooded the prince's face. For a moment there was a hard stubbornness in his golden eyes, and she feared he was going to refuse. That he was going to demand an answer. His dark lips parted and a harsh breath left her. She couldn't do it again, couldn't manage her uncaring appearance for long. Yet before Fjóla caved, he was back pedaling from her without a word, his long hair whipping behind him as her words of rejection followed after.

She jolted when the front door slammed, and he was gone. Fjóla sunk down onto her a bed a shaking mess, letting out the breath she held just a tad too long. Gilded irises flared at her trembling hands, and slowly dulled back to a calm violet once she clenched them shut. Memories she rarely addressed were shoved back down, along with the hand she drew across her face. This wasn't like when you're in the city, she scolded herself, there was no need to be scared, no one was going to see her, hurt her…

Sighing heavily, she rubbed at her sore arms. At least, not much. Still, she had nothing to fear, he was gone, and nothing needed to be told as her secret was safe. No more drawing and visits, geez, she was an idiot…to think she would be able to keep things normal, to keep up her charade with him. Him: a magical being, an elf, a prince for Pete's sake! Of course he would've noticed, no matter how hard she worked to play full human. It was best to send him away while she could.

However, some part of her was just saying; coward.

Fjóla was not as stupid as she acted. Naïve at times, yes, but not blind to possible consequences of her actions. She knew it would happen eventually, yet she still asked him to return. Secretly, she had wanted to tell him… now here she was backing out when he had technically met her halfway.

The thought of there being nothing to fear resonated within Fjóla again. Only this time because, as she sat there, alone, she realized and remembered Nuada was like her. What was there to be afraid of with a kindred spirit? There was the chance of rejection, again…but what did it matter if she didn't try? (And, not to mention, she basically rejected him first already…) Did she really prefer being ridiculed and disregarded to a chance of finally, finally being accepted again?

What are you? rang in her head. He…hadn't said it with disgust. He sounded frustrated, but genuinely curious, as if knowing what she hid about herself would solve some issue. Then, she was hit with the full force of not seeing him again because of her cowardice. She'd only have pictures to remember him by, ones that would yellow over time and fall to pieces. Fjóla suddenly had difficulty breathing; no, that wouldn't be enough for her. There was a sensation of getting decked in the gut, twice, once her desire to just see him dawn upon her.

"Oh…" Fjóla gasped softly, a hand covering just below her heart and eyes wide. "O-Oh. Oh." Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed before Fjóla realized she really was a big, big idiot.

The next thing she knew, she was darting out her house barefoot and into the forest after him.

"Wa-Wait, wait! Nuada!" She called, voice heavy with desperation, head whipping back and forth madly as she searched. She was sprinting fast, unhindered by stones and thicket her uncovered feet rushed through. The trees, her trees, called with her. Their leaves rustled his name, as the wind sweep through with her beckoning. The prince was long gone; she knew this, even as she pressed her hands to the earth below and felt for his presence. The wind returned to her, a comforting caress through her hair as it held no trace of Nuada.

A look of utter defeat filled heliotrope eyes garnished with citrine. She was too late. She'd missed her chance and Nuada.

Though the peace of her forest reached out for her, the gentle spirits of its inhabitants offered their calm and consolations, the dryad merely curled against an oak, and hung her head in silence.

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That was how he found her.

Fjóla had felt a warning tickle at the back of her neck, yet didn't look up. She kept her head buried within her folded arms, breathing in her regret. Long, slightly tangled brown tresses acted as a curtain, and she saw nothing but the dirt covered ground. Sniffling again, she caught the odd scent of damp earth, it hadn't rained in weeks, but she dismissed it.

The tickling was replaced with an acorn being dropped on her head.

"Please," The wood nymph muttered to the oak tree, voice muffled. "Give me a moment, I think I'm deserving of a moment of wallowing."

Branches crunched, the out of place smell intensified, and three more acorns bounced off her head. From her contact with the oak's trunk, she felt a wave of annoyance and a tinge of apprehension.

Fjóla gave a weak groan, and rolled away from the abusive tree, onto her side with her eyes closed. She didn't notice the pair of booted feet until she was lying across them. Her eyes snapped open in a heartbeat, as intruder blared within her mind. Gold, bright and warning, replacing the normal violet color as she slid back and locked gazes with a very amused pair of steel cobalt orbs.

"I'm startin' to believe there might be some kind of hidden hatred you're harboring for me. First the phone call, now you're treating me as an intruder. Ouch."

It took Fjóla ten seconds to take in the damp jet-dark hair stuck to tanned skin, and intricate turquoise tattoos trailing down lean arms before her.

And only one to breathed out, "Sóvat."

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"You shouldn't- you smell awful by the way- you shouldn't try to hide them." Thumbs circled around her eyes, which were still flaxen from fright. "I like them. It shows you're not hiding yourself anymore."

Sóvat was holding her tightly, cheek resting against Fjóla's forehead. He kept sniffing at her hair, which he found foul smelling. It smells like elf, he muttered, and she almost laughed. The forest nymph was quiet and still letting him fawn about her, as wheels were spinning in her head, an idea just sparking to life. She had gotten Nuada to talk about himself, just a little at times. He told nothing too personal, but often spoke of places he'd traveled to over the years. There was always one place, however, he would always speak of…

"Hey, hey, are you even listening?"

Blinking, then furrowing her brows, Fjóla made a weird gargling noise as the male pulled at her cheek. He laughed and released her, only to grab her hands and mock-waltz down the path they had been traversing. She stumbled all the way, but forced a smile.

"I asked if you'd made up you mind yet?"

She swallowed, nervous. No...she hadn't. Oh geez, she just got in the right mind set to solve her issue with Nuada. Couldn't he just wait, just a little longer?

"I-I…hrm. Just give me one more month. Please!" She exclaimed, though politely when Sóvat's smile dropped. "I've…been trying what you said, meeting more fae creatures…spending less time with humans."

Understanding lit up his eyes. "That's why you stink like this."

"Well, I don't- They don't really stin-…yes. The elf. They're my friend…and I've messed things up with them. I'd like to patch things up, b-before I tell you my decision."

Sóvat regarded her with a cool stare, the hand encasing her own tightening. "Alright…one more month, Fjóla. One."

It worried her a bit. They'd known each other since childhood, not exactly friends, but Fjóla used to be able to say she felt safe around him. Their parents were old friends, they would meet up, bring them along. He would show her tricks with water, and Fjóla would show him how to make a daisy dance in the sunlight. He was one of the only other fae creatures she met before her mother decided they should try to blend with humans. Being half of one, her mother thought that maybe she would be more like her father, would want a 'normal' life. When that failed, Sóvat was still around, an ear for her to rant off to, an elder to seek advice from.

Perhaps that's why she felt obligated to accept the offer he made her several months ago, the real reason why she moved back out to her forest. But since she said she'd consider it, he's changed. She felt…pressured in his presence-he wanted an answer and her cooperation. Of course, he was desperate, she understood that. But she didn't like how he was already treating her like a possession. She'd thought he'd accepted her…but he was just using her. She was going to tell him no, that's why she went back to her human act and habits, to prepare for when she went back to the city.

If she told him that now, however, he might not be willing to help her…

So putting on her sweetest smile, she asked, "Have you ever been to the troll market?"