Chapter 5 – Dragonflies

All cranked up together under a much-smaller-than-she-thought trillium leaf, they roamed the border in search of a way out. With all that rain, roots and rocks were impossible to climb, and the soil was extremely slippery. Furthermore, the danger of the water on the soldiers' wings restricted their movement by making them captive of the leaf's protection.

Around the middle, the soldier on her right stopped and shushed them softly. He pointed upwards: a darner dragonfly was clinging to a large maple's trunk, not far from the ground. It was covered in blue, red and black water drops and its wings were shaking silently in the wind.

Marianne immediately knew what she had to do. Without thinking, she passed the too-short front branch of the leaf to one of her companions and sneaked under the insect. One hand at a time, she escalated the trunk's crevasses, careful not to scare it away.

Once she got closer to its body, it suddenly seemed to notice her, because it shook the water away and its legs bent to take off. Marianne had just the time to jump on its abdomen before its legs launched it into the air and its wings started buzzing.

The creature lifted her along and spun in wide, clumsy circles, while she climbed its body forcefully. "I'm sorry…little guy," she groaned, adjusting herself to lean on its thorax, between its angry wings. "I promise this'll be over soon. I just need… a bit of help."

She gripped to it until it calmed down, then used the weight of her upper body to guide it back to the soldiers. It surrendered to her commands, but she still sensed a lot of anger in its jerky movements, or at the way it didn't mind its speed at all. She hoped she'd be able to keep control of it until the two fairy men could mount its back.

They stared at her with a wide expression of shock spread across their faces. She didn't have the chance to puff her chest only because the dragonfly initially refused to land, so she had to lay atop its head and block its wings with her arms to keep it on the ground. "Come on, climb on it, now! I'm sorry, you'll have to leave the leaf behind!"

They threw their umbrella aside and ran on its abdomen, right behind her. Under her grip, the dragonfly's struggle intensified. They held on to her back, but she turned her face so she could look at one over her shoulder: "I'll let go. Get ready to jump here."

"What? You're not coming with us?!"

"I wish I could, but it won't be able to lift the three of us. Try to make it carry the two of you out of the forest and as far as possible towards the castle." The dragonfly was pushing harder against her. She used her legs to force it to stay still. "Tell my father not to send people to look for me, okay? Tell him I'll be back as soon as the rain stops, not to worry."

"Okay, but—"

"I'll release it, now. Are you ready?"

"No, wait! I can't fly a–"

"Good luck!"

With that, she jumped next to them, and as she had predicted, the wild dragonfly sprinted up into the air. The soldiers let out a panicked scream but grabbed at it and held on. She looked at them fly away in the wrong direction, draw a large turn back through branches, then zoom over her past the trees at the border, the sound of their yelling following them all the way. She smiled, satisfied.

Now, she could finally rest. She ran to cover herself with the now-much-larger trillium leaf and headed for the heart of the forest, hoping to find a shelter soon and wrap herself in her wings.

Eventually, she found one, not very far from two white mushrooms. Once she had sat down and settled her wings into a wet cocoon around her, she noticed a third one a bit farther up the slope. It had an eye on her.

Wait, what? An eye?

She shook her head slightly and tried to better look under its cap, wondering if she had imagined an eye there. From where she was sitting, it was impossible to make out the details of its stem, so it looked smooth.

She turned her gaze to the other mushrooms that were nearby, but aside from small bulges, they looked just as smooth and faceless, undisturbed by the water sliding down their caps. It must have been her imagination...

Deep in thoughts, it suddenly hit her. It was most likely suppertime already; night was starting to fall. If it didn't stop raining before it turned dark, she'd have to travel almost blindly.

Inside her cocoon, she crossed her fingers, begging the clouds above for a bit of mercy, and suppressed a shiver.

The Bog King was getting angrier and angrier. The more he went, the less goblins he saw searching around. They would be impossible to miss if he came across them; in the rain, especially in the late hours, they usually carried amber torches. Being entirely indifferent to the rain himself, he could not fathom that they might have grown tired of it.

Well, no matter the reason, he was now devoting much of his focus to the way he'd scold them later. Lack of attention to his route led him unconsciously to the Old Maple tree, the most crowded insect palace that he knew of and inside which he could always sit and not be bothered. A chain of mushrooms circumvented its foot, so he usually hid in the higher leaves to access the branches near the trunk (these damn mushrooms, they repeated absolutely anything and everything they heard and saw).

This time, though, as he was lost in his thoughts, he forgot to use the safe route and noticed the mushrooms after they had noticed him. He was about to sigh, until he saw one was flailing its arms timidly at him. Intrigued but on his guard, he flew down at it and held himself above the ground to hear it.

The mushroom, however, didn't speak. Instead, it pointed in slow movements to a fissure in the Maple's root. It then placed a finger on its lips to silence him, a gesture that made Bog frown in defiance.

He understood the appeal of silence once he peeked at the fissure and saw a purple cocoon in it, wriggling like the person inside was doing something.

Startled, he backed away, out of sight, and as all his anger vanished, he realized how very unprepared he was to see her just yet. (Even though he had been looking for her specifically.)

He wondered what to do for too long. The mushroom was staring at him with a neutral, but judgmental gaze. It made him self-conscious, especially about the fact that he had no idea what to do about not knowing what to do. Should he poke her with his staff and force her to come out and see what happens? Should he give her a start? Or maybe gather some spider web and try to tie her up?

But then, what would he do with another captive? There was a tiny possibility that she had some kind of rank (unless their peasants had started taking up sword fighting?), so they might come looking for her eventually. Which would not be good. Because they had discovered not too long ago that a group of beetle larvae had bored winding tunnels throughout his castle. They'd have to move and until then, it was not the best place to call a fortress.

Or maybe he should sit somewhere and wait until she came out by herself?

No, the mushrooms were watching. They'd speculate and find it worthy of gossip, his worst enemy at the moment.

No choice: he had to move her from there. Faking impeccable self-confidence, he landed not far from her and touched her wing slightly. As was to be expected, she gave a loud start and reached for her sword, a look of surprise on her face. Finally, their eyes met.

She looked horribly tired. He simply couldn't bring himself to be unpleasant anymore.

"You, err…" he began, not loud enough, then cleared his throat. "You have to leave. Now."

She held his gaze a moment longer, then switched to an expression of challenge.

"Make me."

He didn't know exactly what to reply, so she was the one who kept talking.

"I'm just…" She held her hands flat in front of her with a clear annoyance in the way she held her shoulders. "…so done with this rain. There's no way I'm getting out of here until it stops. I've had more than enough. So, no. I'm not leaving right now." Her voice was resolute. "I will as soon as the rain stops, though, I promise."

She then repositioned her arms against herself, her eyes shifting, her sword at her feet and her wings a little closer. Shutting herself down, he realized. It was a wonder she was still alone in this position.

"Well…" He found the words to speak and silently thanked her for starting the conversation. "You don't have much choice. If the goblins see you, or your peer, they won't take the time to ask questions. They'll just tie you up and bring you to my… to the castle."

She glanced at him and puffed a mocking laugh. "I'd like to see them try. If I do get bothered, I'll just fly higher and hide somewhere else."

So she was alone. He let out a smirk. "I'd like to see you try to fly higher." She seemed to be cut off guard because she froze. "I know you can't fly right now, tough girl. Why else would you stay so close to the ground?"

She sighed and threw her hands in the air, dropping her sword next to her. "Okay, yeah, touchée. I can't fly." She turned a mean gaze on him and grasped the weapon again. "Doesn't mean I'm defenseless, though."

A sudden laugh escaped him. "I'm aware," he said simply. And he cursed himself for not being able to maintain any kind of threatening stance. The mushrooms are listening, dammit.

She must have been expecting another kind of response because she seemed surprised. Saying nothing, she sheathed the blade.

The silence was making him immensely uncomfortable, though. He couldn't help fidgeting with his staff. "There's—" She started speaking at the same time: "Aren't you—"

They both laughed to mask the awkwardness. "You first," he offered.

She smiled a pleasant smile, one of sincerity, that took him by surprise. "I was thinking: aren't you cold? You look like you've spent the last hours under this crappy weather."

He hid his hands behind his back and leant a bit forward. "I'm fine, actually." He cursed his higher, faster-than-usual voice. "The rain doesn't bother me at all. It just…" he made a vague gesture at himself. "…slips through me." Before she could say anything back and ask questions about his anatomy, as she was probably about to do, he decided he had to change the subject. "And… I was about to tell you that… there's a knot with a hole, midway up the trunk," he pointed upwards with one hand. "I think a squirrel used to live there. But it's gone now, so…"

She followed his finger with her eyes and visibly considered it, pressing her lips on the side of her cheek. "Thanks. I think I'm gonna look for it."

He watched her step down the crevasse reluctantly and cover her arms with her wings, then turn around and examine the trunk. "That way?" she pointed randomly, upwards.

"No, on the other side," he instructed, taking flight, and before he could offer his help, she started escalating the trunk.

He smiled to himself, heading towards the hole, waiting for her without purposefully waiting for her. Of course she wouldn't ask for help. She'd probably turn it down if he offered, and take it as an affront to her dignity. Best not say anything and wait for her there.

As he turned to watch her climb, his eyes met those of the mushroom that had signalled him of her presence. He froze in mid-flight: it was too late to silence them now. She'd see him go back down and talk to them, and she'd suspect something was going on. Besides, she hadn't acknowledged their presence, so maybe he was lucky and she had no idea what they were and what they did…

He looked at her struggling form instead. Her hands didn't look like they had firm grips on the wet trunk, and her wings were only half-opened, fluttering a bit, like she was trying to keep her balance. She kept her eyes on the trunk, though, avoiding his carefully.

As much as it was endearing, it was also quite reckless. He kept his ground and did not offer her any help. While she almost fell (an eventuality he was very much prepared for) a couple of times, she eventually made it to the squirrel hole and let herself fall against the inside wall with a tired sigh of relief and a quick laugh. "Whew! Now that's what I call an adventure! Have you ever tried not relying on your wings for a whole day?"

"No, never."

"Don't do it. It's just not worth it."

He put his staff against the wall and went to sit near the edge, giving her plenty of space. He could bear to watch her only subtly, in the corner of his eye. Her hair was a mess, her makeup was almost entirely gone, her clothes were sticking to her body and it was just too much for him to stare at openly. What was it that was making him so uncomfortable? Was it the knowledge that there really was nobody but the two of them now? Ridiculous, he thought. He'd been alone with females before. (Because of his mother, most times.) This one was nothing different… right?

She brushed the water over her wings, like she was dusting them, then pulled at her collar. "Thanks for showing me. It feels much better than… that freakin' place. I swear, I was about to become claustrophobic."

He smiled but didn't turn towards her. He just kept staring outside. "No problem. I… come here, sometimes. So... It's only natural, since I knew of it."

She paused behind him. "Oh, really? Well, it's, err… nice. It's a nice place. Very… handy."

"Thank you." He gathered some courage before saying: "It's a… perfect place, to observe the dragonflies. They always gather over there at night." He pointed to another tree, not very far, and when she crawled closer to the border to follow the direction of his finger, he found himself oddly nervous. "They almost always stay in groups when it's raining, because when their eyes are covered in dew, they can't see well around themselves."

He heard her make a long humming laugh and retreat deeper into the hole. "So that's why it was easy."

He couldn't help but turn around to face her. "Easy?"

She averted her eyes to the rain. "I caught one, earlier."

There was no hiding the surprise from his face. "You caught one? You mean, you were able to ride one?"

"Yeah. It was hilarious," she said with an amused smile. "My, err… partner, the other fairy, he didn't know how to fly it, so he almost fell down. He did manage to fly it, though, in the end," she added quickly. "So he's on the other side of the border now. You don't need to look for him anymore. But… it was fun. To see, I mean."

He nodded and turned back. "Yeah… That's an impressive feat, though. Dragonflies are just about the toughest insects to catch. They see everywhere, the front and the back."

She seemed to hesitate. "You seem to know a lot about them."

"What? No, it's just… I observe them." He twisted his hands on his lap. "Never tried to catch one. But I do know they're evasive bastards."

They said nothing for a long moment. The woman wasn't moving; he wondered if she was asleep, but a good part of him didn't dare turn around to look.

"So you say you… come here often?" she asked in a slow voice. "To— To observe the dragonflies?"

He felt he had to calculate his response, but finally opted for the spontaneous answer. "Yeah. Almost every day."

"Almost every day, huh… At night?"

"At dawn. Around daybreak."

"Oh… I see."

There was another long moment of silence until she sighed loudly. "I can't wait to get home…" she confessed. "You know, you don't have to keep me company. I can take care of myself. Oh, unless you're—"

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Hm?"

"You're… probably waiting for the rain to stop, to make sure I head home… aren't you?"

The question hit him like a bullet. Why was he keeping her company, exactly? He could force her through the border; carry her in her arms and throw her on the other side. For some reason, that did not sound like something he'd like to do.

"Err… yeah." He had no idea what else to say.

She didn't add anything, but started fanning her wings, slowly, carefully. "'Better dry these as soon as I can, then…" He glanced at her (her wings looked heavy) but went back to his silent contemplation.

He then hated himself for saying: "The rain's getting weaker."

Behind him, she stopped moving. "You're right…"

He twisted his hands a bit harder, but realized what he was doing and stopped. This moment would not last and he'd have to remember all the small details he could absorb now because it wouldn't happen again. Her voice cut through his disappointment: "It was fun, by the way."

He froze. The spar, perhaps?

"It's been awhile since I've had someone keep up with me."

He cleared his throat. "Really?... M-Me too, sort of."

"Perhaps we could… spar again, sometime. You know, if… you have time."

To his surprise, she then crawled and sat next to him, still fanning her wings. "Yeah, why not…" he responded, daring a look in her direction and meeting her eye.

She smiled again. He returned it and averted his gaze shyly. She leant a bit on her knees, holding her face in both hands. "Say, why do you live here? It's so dark, and there's so little space to fly. And there are… dangerous-looking plants everywhere. Doesn't it get tiresome? Don't you miss the open sky, sometimes?"

He took some time to think, but the response came quite naturally. "The Dark Forest is full of mysteries. You wouldn't believe how many species of insects live here, all around, beneath our feet and above our heads. And with the goblins everywhere… Strange things happen in here."

She turned a bit towards him. Their eyes met again. "Strange things, huh… I think I can imagine."

They held each other's gaze longer than before, both of them smiling nervously. She was the one to break eye contact.

Eventually, night fell and the rain stopped. Her wings were not dry but they had considerably lost water, and she said she felt able to fly. He knew, then, that it was over, so he got up.

"I know this forest by heart," he told her in a low voice, then offered her a hand. "I can guide you."

She got up with him and stared into his eyes, never looking at his outstretched hand. To his surprise, though, she smiled and took it softly, like a whisper. He closed his fingers on hers, careful to give her enough space so she could let go if she wanted.

He led the way, successfully not hitting any trees or branches until they arrived at the border. She didn't let go of his hand until they were in front of the trees, with the same gentleness as before.

"Thank you," she said in a soft voice.

"You're welcome." They smiled at each other one more time, and she left without turning around. He waited until she was completely out of sight before heading back to the castle. The forest suddenly felt empty.

As he glided home, time stood still. Everything was beautifully right and painfully wrong. He'd never see her again and he had to accept that fact, he told himself. Or perhaps he'd see her again, but by then, she'd have realized who he was, and understand he was her enemy. There would be no more soft-spoken words between them, no conversations about the Dark Forest or the dragonflies, and no warm smile. When she'd be back, it would be in her combat attire, dark makeup on point, wings propelling her in purple rays of light through the sun. If they ever met, the tip of her sword would fly to his throat again and he'd have to be intimidating for her.

When he arrived home, Stuff tried to greet him: "Welcome back, Sire. Message from the mushrooms—"

"I don't want to hear it," he cringed. They had probably said things about him and the fairy, and everybody had certainly heard already. "Remind me later."

He slumped on his throne, never letting go of his staff. "Tell everyone the fairies are gone and the Forest is safe. And leave me alone."

"Yes, Sire."