Chapter 28: The Fairies and Bees (Posted)

Violet blindly shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, unable to take her eyes off the elf in front of her. Sitting on the edge of his bed wearing just his leather leggings, Tamival was bare from the waist up. Lean like a runner yet muscular, he could have been sculpted from marble as he sat frozen in shock. Her fingers twitched with the need to trace those muscles and she balled her fists behind her to stop the urge. His skin seemed to glow in the light of the single candle that flickered on the chest of drawers his room was furnished with.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with almost a growl, getting over his shock, and standing.

"I wanted to talk to you. I need to get things cleared up between us," she answered, pushing away from the support of the door and taking a tentative step towards him.

"It cannot wait til morning?"

"No, it can't."

Tamival shook his head, "you're drunk."

"No, I'm not," she replied. It was the truth; she was only a bit tipsy and that was wearing off fast. "You're not getting out of this that easy."

"Fine," he said in a clipped voice.

Now that she was there, she didn't know what to say without sounding childish. Suddenly, she wanted to slip back out the door and go hide under the quilt in her room.

"What?" he raised an eyebrow. "Nothing to say?"

"What have I done to you to make you dislike me so much?"

His eyes narrowed at her question, "what have you done?"

"Yes," she snapped. "I don't understand. Sometimes you are almost nice, then you turn into the biggest ass," she hissed the word. "So, what is your problem?"

"My problem," he ground out, stepping closer to her so that he towered over her, and she had to crane her head up to meet his eyes. "My problem is everything about you."

This close to him, she could smell the beer he drank during dinner over his normal woodsy scent. Her first instinct was to step back and put more space between them, but that's what he probably wanted, she reasoned, so she held her ground, clenching her fists in the hem of her borrowed shirt. His shirt.

"Everything about me?" she echoed.

He reached up and twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers, "everything."

"I see," she breathed, her heart fluttering. All her anger died, replaced by something she couldn't identify. "So, there's nothing I can do to make you like me?"

He smiled wryly as he leaned down and breathed in the scent of her hair. "Liking you is the problem, Violet," he said in a husky voice that did funny things to her.

She shivered. "I…, I don't understand, then."

"No." The fingers twisting her hair now trailed lightly down the side of her neck to the hollow at its base. "You wouldn't." He swayed towards her slightly as if unsteady on his feet.

Violet stayed frozen in place by his touch, unable to form a thought. In fact, she had forgotten why she had come in the first place. Unconsciously, she leaned into his touch, turning her head until his mouth hovered over her cheek. She could feel his warm breath against her skin. She wanted…, she wasn't sure what she wanted, her brain was refusing to work.

With his other hand, he reached behind her brushing against her back. So softly that she wondered later if she imagined it, he kissed the corner of her mouth before drawing back enough to speak.

"You should go now," he said softly, stepping away from her in one smooth motion while opening the door behind her. His hand on her neck flattened against her and he pushed her gently out of his room before closing the door in her face.

She stood there staring at the door for a moment before turning blindly and hurrying back to her room. Flinging herself onto her bed, she buried her face in the pillow and screamed her frustration.

The next morning, her head throbbing, she made her way downstairs to ask about bathing. The older, no-nonsense woman serving the early morning patrons motioned her to a door under the stairs that opened to a warm hallway ending with two doors across from each other. One had a bouquet of flowers carved on its surface, the other a stag. Choosing the one with the flowers, she opened it to a billowing cloud of steam. Hesitating, she tried to see through the cloud.

"Hurry up, before you let all the warmth escape," a woman's voice admonished her from within.

Stepping through, she shut it quickly behind her. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom of the room and the steam, she made out a row of four deep tubs and a woman pulling a bucket off the fire in the hearth.

"Go on, lass," the woman told her. "Get out of those dirty clothes and I'll take them out to be cleaned while you soak."

Within minutes, she was up to her neck in pleasantly hot water scented with what smelled like honeysuckle. Once the bath attendant, Maudine, got Violet settled, she bundled up the clothes and hurried out, promising to be back before the water cooled too much.

Leaning her head back, Violet closed her eyes and sighed. She was not looking forward to seeing the two elven brothers this morning, especially Tamival. Not after last night. Her face heated from both the hot water and the memory.

At 65 she wasn't ignorant about sex but living in isolation hadn't given her a lot of chances to explore her sexuality. Though not a virgin, she could count her intimate relationships on one hand and have fingers left over. Perhaps calling them relationships would be a stretch. Two of them lasted little more than a couple of weeks; once her partner discovered that she had little interest in the night life offered in Vancouver and its surrounding urban areas, they quickly moved on. One was just a summer solstice fling that she never heard from again.

Up until now, her lack of a love life hadn't bothered her. But after last night, yearnings that she wasn't prepared to deal with were bubbling to the surface like a potion left on the burner too long. What really confused her was that it was Tamival that roused those feelings and not Tamirel. The more amiable brother was much more attractive as far as she was concerned. But, even kissing Reed, as pleasant as it had been, hadn't stirred her like last night. Not to mention that the signals he was sending her were so mixed, she couldn't tell if last night was a result of suppressed passions or a cruel joke on his part.

She sighed and muttered, "men."

"Can't live with them," a melodic voice intoned from behind her.

"And you can't get away with killing them," Violet finished the saying, turning to look at the speaker.

"Oh, you can," the other woman commented as she moved into Violet's line of site to pour a bucket of boiling water into the tub next to hers. She turned and smiled, "just don't get caught."

Tall and slender, with all the inherent grace of her race, the elven woman exchanged the empty bucket with a second full one and added that one to her bath also. Only then did she disrobe and step into the steaming water. Her perfect skin was marred in places by ugly bruises and several scars that looked recent, especially on her arms, shoulders, and back. As she sank into the hot water, she sighed and flipped her long, silver-blond braid over the edge of the tub to coil up on the floor beside her.

Violet was about to ask if she had been in the fighting at Myth Drannor when Maudine returned and tutted at the elf.

"My Lady, you should have waited," she admonished. "You're in no condition to be hauling buckets for your bath."

"Shush, Maudine," she waved a languid hand, "if the day comes that I cannot prepare my own bath, you will be visiting my grave."

The older woman sniffed, "still, after all you've done…."

"Maudine," she said gently, "let me be." She looked over at Violet, "I'm sure Violet doesn't want to listen to you fluttering about like a mother hen any more than I do."

Violet started at her name, bringing a smile to the elf's face.

"Don't look so surprised, my dear. The whole town has heard about you already. Word spreads quickly. In fact, I'm surprised Vorn hasn't burst through that door already to verify that you're alive with his own eyes." She chuckled at the thought.

"Vorn is here?"

"And Milya," she nodded. "They joined us just two days ago. Both had quite a lot to say about the 'wee little sorceress'. And they were delighted last night when Drizzt informed them of your arrival."

Violet was relieved they were both alive and safe. She couldn't wait to see them.

"My apologies," the elf said, "I'm being rude. I'm Storm Silverhand."

Violet almost jumped out of her tub with excitement. Finally, here was someone that might have answers.

"I was going to look for you later today," she told Storm, breathlessly. "I have so many questions that I've been told only you or Elminster could answer."

Storm nodded, "I gathered as much from Vorn and Milya. That's why I'm here."

At Maudine's snort behind them, she added, "and the bath, of course."

"I couldn't help but notice," Violet began, "it looks like you've been part of the fighting at Myth Drannor."

Storm nodded, "yes."

"How's it going?"

Storm sighed, "not as well as we would like. It's a matter of numbers and there are simply more of them than there are of us. Right now, we are managing to hold our own, but they are wearing us down. That's why I'm here and not still there. I'm here to contact others to increase our numbers and perhaps figure out what is behind this surge."

"Is there anything I can do?" Violet asked, mentally cringing at the elven brothers' reaction to her offer.

Storm looked almost sad as she shook her head, "as much as we need another magic user's aid, your inexperience and lack of control would only make you a danger to others."

Violet's face burned with embarrassment and the other woman gave her a slight smile, "but let's see if we can change that some while I'm here." She picked up a jar on the low table between them and sniffed its contents. Nodding with satisfaction, she scooped up a bit, applied it to a cloth, and began to wash. "I've heard only parts of your story, so why don't you fill me in?"

Later, wearing a dress borrowed from one of Maudine's granddaughters, Violet told Tamirell about meeting the sorceress as they ate breakfast.

"After I'm through here, I'm to go to her house," she said happily.

Tamirell smiled at her enthusiasm, "good. Maybe you will finally get some of the answers you've been looking for."

"I know!"

His smile faded slightly, "but don't get your hopes up too much. There may be things that don't have an answer no matter how hard you search."

Violet refused to let his warning dampen her excitement, though. Taking a breath to calm down a little, she looked around the inn.

"Where's Tamival?"

"He was gone when I woke up this morning. He might be with the Harpers."

Hiding her disappointment, she asked, "what are you doing today?"

"I'm going to the Harpers' Hall after this. More than likely, I'll be asked to join the fight at Myth Drannor."

"Will you?"

He nodded, "they need all the swords they can get."

"Please don't leave without saying goodbye," she asked.

"Of course not," he grinned. "Maybe I can get a kiss for good luck before I go."

She snorted, "if it's luck you need, you need to kiss someone else."

Storm's home was not what Violet expected. Instead of an imposing structure befitting a powerful sorceress, the cozy cottage stood amid a well-tended garden enclosed by a white stone wall. Inside, rather than a clutter of worktables, bookcases, and component cabinets, the place reminded her of her own cabin back on Earth. So much so that she felt acutely homesick for the first time since she had magically teleported to this world.

After greeting her, Storm led the way to a shaded, patio behind the cottage and bade her to make herself comfortable, then disappeared back into the cottage.

Leaning back in the padded, wooden chair, Violet tucked her feet under her and surveyed the garden. This late in the season, hardy flowers like daisies, black-eyed Susans, and mums dominated the blooms, interspersed with dahlias and marigolds. Beds of herbs and medicinal plants abounded. From where she sat, Violet spotted feverfew, bee balm, bishop's weed, valerian, sedum, burdock, and angelica. There were still more plants that she couldn't identify. Storm Silverhand was quite the gardener.

Of course, buzzing and darting among the foliage were the usual multitudes of insects and small birds. Almost as numerous were the fae, ranging from the size of mice down to ones that were no larger than the bees, they fluttered, darted, crawled, scurried, and hopped throughout the garden.

"Well, this is certainly unusual," Storm said as she rejoined Violet, passing her a steaming mug. "Am I correct in assuming all these fae are connected to you somehow?"

Violet nodded as she accepted the mug, "they seem to be drawn to me. They keep growing in number and are getting bolder."

"Interesting," her host mused, settling in a chair. "Did you have an affinity for them before?"

Violet shrugged, "I'm not sure you could call it an affinity. I've always been able to see them ever since I was a child, and I have a fae familiar. But nothing like this," she waved at the garden.

"But you said the wood sprite specifically sought you out for help against the blight?"

"Yes, but I've been trading them cookies with herbs and spells baked in for years, so they knew I was a healer of sorts."

Storm set her mug down on a low table with a thud and shook her head, "Violet, everything you have told me only confirms it." She narrowed her eyes in thought, "I bet you have a recent ancestor that's fae."

Violet laughed, "I wouldn't!"

"Why do say that?"

Why indeed? Fae blood was one of the many beliefs tied to the origin of witches and druids in the old country. But so was demon and angel blood, depending on who you asked. Violet bought some time to think by bringing her mug up and inhaling the fragrant steam that smelled of cardamom and cloves. Taking a careful sip, she detected the slightly bitter taste of dandelion root that the honey couldn't quite disguise. The blend was similar to one that her mother used to make.

"Well," she started, "if I had a fae ancestor, then wouldn't my mother and grandmother have been more powerful?"

"Not if it was on your father's side," Storm reasoned. "What do you know of him?"

"Nothing really. I never met him." she answered. "My mother got pregnant with me during a Samhain celebration with . She never saw him again."

At Storm's confused look, she explained, "it's a common practice among witches. We're so used to hiding from the rest of the world that we seldom marry. We either live in covens or familial groups like me, my mother, and my grandmother. That way, we don't have to hide our magic or explain why we don't age as quickly."

"So, if you didn't know your father, how do you know he wasn't fae?"

"Because I was an awful witch," she admitted bluntly. "Until I got here, my most powerful magic was inscribing runes on shortbread cookies."

"Hum," Storm mused, staying quiet for a bit, then she waved a slender hand. "I do not think it matters for our purpose today, but it would be interesting to find out."

"First," she continued, "let's discuss those talismans you have around your neck."

Violet started at the elf's words. "How? How did you know?"

Storm smiled, "I can sense their power."

"Oh."

"And you keep clutching them through your blouse like they're going to disappear at any moment," again with a smile.

"Oh!" Violet hadn't realized she had made a habit out of checking for them. Just touching them seemed to have a calming effect on her, and she had needed it over the past few days.

Storm held out her hand, "if I may?"

Violet hesitated.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Storm told her. "But you can trust me."

"It seems that anyone that's compelled to say that isn't someone I should trust," Violet countered.

Storm shrugged, "true." She withdrew her hand.

Biting her lip, Violet made her decision and pulled both necklaces over her head.

"Here."

Storm took them with a solemn nod, "thank you."

She held up the key with the stone, studying it.

"Ailluin said it could be how I get back to earth, but it needed to recharge," Violet offered.

"Ailluin? Of Bristar?" Storm glanced at her.

"Yes."

"He's partially right," Storm said. "It's still recharging. Give it another month and it should be at full power."

"But?" Violet prompted.

Storm passed it back to her. "But it is just what it appears to be, a key. My guess is that you have to be in a specific location for it to activate."

"How would I know where that is?"

"That is for you to learn."

"Well, that's no help," Violet said sharply.

Storm's eyes narrowed as she frowned, "did you think this would be easy? That you would have all the answers just given to you?"

Violet blushed at the reprimand. "I'm sorry. I just feel like I'm a pawn in a game that I don't know the rules to." She looked down at her hands clenched together in her lap.

"Then you need to learn the rules. That's why you're here, correct?"

Violet looked up and met her bright blue eyes. There was no malice in them, only calm sincerity.

"Yes," she said softly. "Will you teach me?"

Storm smiled sadly, "my powers are not what they used to be. Of the two of us, you may be the more powerful. But I will teach you what I can," Storm answered. "Right now, with the fighting at Myth Drannor, my time is limited, but we will make do. Afterwards," she smiled, "we will see."

She turned her attention to the round pendant. "This is very interesting," she said, sitting up straight, her body taunt with tension. She hurriedly passed it back to Violet, "quickly, put it back on."

Violet took it and slipped it back over her head with the key. "What's wrong?"

Only after it was back in place, did Storm relax back into her chair.

"Tell me what you know of it."

Violet told her how she came to have it and how she believed it channeled magic for her use.

"Though, while I was in the underdark, I ceased to feel anything from it. I think perhaps I used all its charges."

Storm shook her head, "no, it's still very much active, but it is not what you think it is."

"How so?"

"Whatever magic you thought you were channeling did not come from it. That's not its purpose. Its purpose is to hide you."

"Hide me?" Violet looked down at her body then back up at Storm in confusion.

"Magically," Storm said. "It hides you from scrying and any other spells to locate you."

Violet's mind was spinning at the news. "I don't understand."

Storm leaned forward, looking her in the eye, "whoever gave it to you, doesn't want others to find you." She paused before continuing, "I wouldn't recommend taking it off, until you learn more."

"But what if I want to be found by whoever is looking for me?"

"Think, Violet," Storm urged. "The Prince of the Forest was instrumental in getting it to you, right?" At Violet's nod, she continued, "he's a known good fae, a protector. Why would he hide you from someone wanting to help you?"

"Oh," Violet frowned at the thought. "He's hiding me for my protection?"

"Again, I'm just guessing, but yes."

Violet considered for a moment before nodding, "I agree. I should leave it on until I know more."

Storm smiled. "Now, the sapphire?"

Violet reached for the pouch she had tucked into the pocket of her skirt. She fumbled with the strings, before pulling out the gem and passing it to Storm.

The elf held it up, allowing it to catch the light filtering through the trees, turning it to watch the interplay change at different angles. Then she brought it closer to her face and examined it closely, occasionally muttering in what Violet assumed was Elven and tracing figures in the air over it. Violet watched her curiously for several minutes but, not being able to discern what she was doing, turned her attention back to the fae in the garden and sipped her tea.

In a cluster of goldenrods, a swarm of tiny fae that resembled goldfish with wings and cat-like faces chased each other through the stalks and flowers in a dizzying display of agility. Their antics were not appreciated by the large, slow bumble bees trying to dine on the flowers, making them buzz angrily. Occasionally, a bee would fly at one of the fae, but the fae were much faster and nimbler and easily escaped. Some of them made a game out of tormenting the bees, which was quickly adopted by the others in the swarm. Violet felt sorry for the bees. They just wanted to be left alone to eat and stock up on food before the coming winter.

"Well, this won't be too hard," Storm announced, drawing her attention back to her host. "You should be able to handle it."

"Me?" Violet started.

"Yes, you. It will be your first lesson," Storm told her, tossing the gem back.

Catching it and tucking it back in its pouch, Violet pulled the other pouch from her pocket and tossed it to Storm.

"What's this?" Storm asked, jingling the pouch.

Violet flushed slightly with embarrassment, "I grabbed a handful of Aseiohiamenti's enchanted components. I was wondering if you could help me identify what they do. Or teach me how to do it myself," she finished quickly.

Storm opened the pouch and dumped part of its contents into her hand. "I don't see why not," she said after studying them a bit. Putting them back in the pouch, she passed them back. "Though you would have been better served if you had grabbed his grimoire instead."

Violet flushed darker. "I'm so stupid. I've been lamenting the loss of my grimoire and those left to me by my family all these months and it never occurred to me to take his."

Storm leaned forward in her chair and put a hand on Violet's arm. "Don't," she said softly. "Beating yourself up over it will not change anything. Speaking of which," she changed the subject, "have you started a new grimoire?"

Shaking off her embarrassment, Violet nodded, "yes, but I don't have it with me. It's back in Highmoon."

Storm withdrew her hand, "inconvenient. Maybe we can do something about that too."

She stood, "come. Let's get started. Unfortunately, I only have a few hours for you right now, so let's not waste any of it."