Fantasy The Tale of the Willow

[SalemKitty]

“I guess it is only fair, I tell you.” Henry's heart beat rapidly at the thought of learning her name only for her to follow it up with a question. “They say they can read someone’s name in their eyes. And can you read my name in mine?”

Guess her name? What sort of game was this? Was it not common curtesy to give out ones name? No... no this was flirting. This was her showing her interest in him. She was playing and joking with him. She didn't think he'd get her real name, so there was no real use in trying. However he needed to give some sort of effort to play back with her games.

"Within your eyes." Henry starred into herself without flinching. "I have heard of such magic, but have not trained in it myself."

First he would start with names of Queens of legend. "Perhaps Guinevere, for I see virtue and nobility within your eyes, or Marcia for your knowledge and mind. No... Helen for your beauty that makes goddesses weep in envy..." henry let the moment sit for a second, keeping eye contact and not allowing her to speak, "Yet those are all but names of humans, and not such a magical creature such as yourself. They are not your name, your eyes tell me so."

Second he'd go with names of the Fae Queens, "Is it Elphame, like the queen of the Fae? Yet, you seem far to kind to be named after such a figure. Perhaps Morgan, for your power and benevolence? No.." He leaned forward ever slightly more. "Your eyes do not scream the possibility of any darkness. I know! Una... no..."

He let himself come across as if he were thinking, and this was his final category. He had no idea about Fae names but he knew some rare human names he heard in stories. "You are named after no queen. Primeveire, Adelina, Liecia... None of these are your name. I fear, perhaps, it is a name I have never heard. Simple to without outshining your beauty, but powerful. Noble, and Kind. I fear I have failed you, for in my vast knowledge, I simply do not know."

This was the crux of it, he had to get her to tell him, "Please grace me with the knowledge, so I am alleviate my ignorance." Telling her happy stories and myths from his world could get underweigh as soon as she did. Frankly the whole act was tiring him out even if he didn't show it.

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida smiled at the boy, who was clearly bluffing to make a good impression on her. Or there must be magic like that among human. If they had magic, something she was not convinced of. In awe she listened to the names the boy gave her, enjoying the compliments he gave her. It was a long time ago a man had called her that. Reon, didn’t have to say it, not anymore, she knew what he thought of her. He didn’t have to talk to let her know. That feeling of confidence was good but, it wasn’t the same as being told you were beautiful.

She smiled softly when the man had admitted his failing. He is humble to she thought, desperate to gain her name. “Those are all beautiful names you gave me my story weaver but, none of them is mine,” she said softly, as she spoke even the voices of the forest seem to soften to listen to her words. “I will trust you my name but, you must promise me to keep it a secret, can you do that for me,” she continued. She looked right into his eyes, wanting him to so yes, wanting him to be trustfully

 

[SalemKitty]

“I will trust you my name but, you must promise me to keep it a secret, can you do that for me,” This was it, the moment he had been waiting for. The charade of listing names of the past was behind him and finally his efforts were being paid off, even if just by a bit. Initially, his response was to say yes and lie. He wasn't going to hide her name from the others, but then he thought of the names he had given her. No one would be able to learn her real name without asking her, and if she was this difficult to begin with? No. He could use this to his advantage, and he found himself a fool for not having thought of it earlier. He can giver her other names, and pretend he has seen other women when asked by those in his village. Would that not elevate his status as a man?

No, he realized. There weren't enough women near him to pull that off, however... hiding her name would save him the trouble of potentially losing her. If someone else learned of her name and tried to find her, found that she lived in this forest and wooed her... He could never allow that to happen. Never. She was his proof of greatness, and to be his and his alone. He could give a fake name if asked, for he now had nine at his disposal, but she had to be his secret. She had to be, until the day he plucked her from these woods and brought her home. He could wait until then. If by chance people thought he was seducing two girls at once, no harm no foul.

"Yes, I swear to keep your name a secret, my fae." He did not falter with his gaze letting her know that he intended to keep her name a secret, at least until she agreed to be his wife. "Please humble me with its greatness."

 

[Blue winter rose]

"Yes, I swear to keep your name a secret, my fae."

Ida smiled, he was truthful, she knew it. His eyes told the same as his words and eyes never lied. He would keep it a secret. She could feel the forest relaxing. It was safe he passed the test. Still, she felt a tension somewhere. The forest still didn’t trust him. She ignored it, knowing full well that it never would. As long as her family wouldn’t get to know.

“I see you mean it, my brave hero,” she spoke. “I trust you my name,” she added. Then she moved closer to the man and took both his hands in hers. “My name is Ida,” she said softly as she looked into his eyes. She knew full well that her name was shorter than all those he had told her and she feared it would disappoint him.

 

[SINNyorita]

A name was a powerful element to a spirit. Ida, a Fae, was no exception.

It was nothing binding, but it was something that connected a spirit with the mortal world. It's 'name'. It was both a show of trust and demand for acceptance. If you knew a spirits name, you were both trusted and responsible.

Reon understood that and therefore he was surprised. Not when the boy asked for his beloved's name, but when Ida asked him to guess it.

Centuries ago, a Knight named Ereon Daffner was asked to guess a Fae's name. The situation couldn't be more different, though. Back then, not only could Ida 'tell' him her name, she needed him to guess it for her to be able to trust him and take his help.

Had he failed to guess it, had he failed to read her mind, guided by her magic, he would not have been able to help her then, share her fate with her, or become her beloved Willow Tree. Reon wondered how things would have turned out had he not guessed her name.

No. There was no way he wouldn't have. There was no way Reon would have turned his back on her, once his heart was captured by the beautiful fae. There was no way he was leaving behind...alone in that forest.

Reon knew Ida was flirting with the boy, but he was curious if she would use the same magic to guide him. Or if he would connect with it. After all there was a world of a difference between hearing a name, and learning it.

Guinevere, Elphame, Primeveire, Adelina, Liecia...he called her many names, but none that resonated with 'Ida'.

He also noted how the boy gave her false praises, or use was it desperation. He was surprised how many of these names even existed. For many years the only woman's name Reon has known and called out was 'Ida'.

"Yes, I swear to keep your name a secret, my fae."

"My name is Ida."

So he couldn't guess it. No, he didn't have to. The thought made Reon nervous. Or was this Ida's nervousness that she projected through him? Reon could never tell the difference.

 

[SalemKitty]

"My name is Ida." It was such a simple name, short and sweet. He felt the lips of his mouth curve up. How easy it would be to hide such a simple name. It did not seem to fit a fae, not in the lore that he had learned long ago. Regardless, he now had her name.

"Such is a name befitting someone such as yourself. Sweet and elegant," He gazed upon her skin, focusing on which happy stories he would tell her, "it reminds me of a tale, a happy one, worry naught. Its a tale from long ago..."

In the woods, under the moonlight and whispers of the trees Henry spun tales that he had heard from others. He told her of fairy tales and stories, holding back the rather long ones so that he had a reason to return, alluding to them but to giving their entirety. He let the moon guide him in his recitation until the owls called and the air turned cold. It was getting late, all too late for him to be out when he had to be up so early in the morning. Looking to the sky he attempted to gauge the time he starred at the moon, his words dropping off mid-sentence. Finding himself unsuccessful, he determined that it was the time to leave. He had given her his stories for the night, but until he took her to his home he could not shirk on his duties. He would not give his father one more reason to berate him.

"The night grows old, my fae. I must return." He reached out to her letting his hand gather the slightest touch of hair bringing it to his lips before offering her a hand to stand. He was unsure of when he would return, wanting to return the next night. Custom dictate that she asked, however how much would custom matter when dealing with magic? "When can I meet you next?"

He needed to tell her that he wanted to see her again. He needed her to know that he was invested in the moments of their connection. He needed her to come with him to prove his worth and mind, and could not push her away. Unfortunately, he had to ask her without seeming too pushy. It would be up to her.

What if she refuses? The sudden thought occurred to him in a flash. What if she asked him to never return, where would that leave him? No, he knew her well enough at this point to know that her words sending him never to return would be coded to have him return in time. She had given him her name and played games with him. The flirtation was ever present; he knew it. All he had to do was wait for her response. He would return regardless.

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida smiled at the man. He seemed to be happy with her name. It didn’t seem to bother him that she told him, rather than show as she did so many years go with Reon. She smiled at the memory, the man had truly thought he could read her name in her eyes. To be truth it was she whispering it in his head, not him looking in her eyes.

She wouldn’t whisper in the head of the man in front of her. Wouldn’t make the bound necessary for such a thing. She wanted his company, listen to his stories, craved his arms around her, his mouth on hers but, she didn’t want to share a heartbeat. Her heart was already bound with someone else. Already given away to someone else.

Wordless she nodded at the man. Encouraging him to keep on talking with her eyes. Silent she let him take her away to times long gone, to places far away. He brought her to places far away with his words. Showed her glimpses of more to make her come back for more. Filled her head with questions and wonder. As she closed her eyes she wandered through the worlds he talked about led by his words.

Suddenly he stopped in the middle pulling her back to the forest in front of her willow tree. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly as she sought for answers in his eyes. She looked up to the sky, she wished he could stay longer. It was short so short, like last time. Humans had a different perception of time she remembered herself. After all they didn’t even live a century long.

“When can you come back?” she answered his question with another question. She wanted to escape this world again, get lost in his stories. She didn’t want to risk too tell him never to return. He is human he wouldn’t get it. Yet again she had seen in his eyes that he would. He wanted her at any cost. He needed her. That realisation made her confident. “That is if you want to come back,” she added smiling as she stood up.

 

[SalemKitty]

The way that Ida met his eyes told him everything he needed to know. Answering his question with a question, teasing him for having any apprehension in his character. Did she love him already? Was it that fast? He was unsure, but if she was, then it was all the better for him. The question remained on when he could return next. He could easily return the next night and the one after that. he could see her every day and every night for as long as he wish, to hell with his father and their work place needs.

However, was that the best course? His brother had once mentioned that an important part of any relationship was the longing. When one was married, you'd see them everyday, but before hand the longing to see your love when you could not... Did it not make the love stronger? Is that not the truth and necessary part of seducing someone? The longing? Yes, yes it was and for its sake, to make her think of him, he could not see her for at least a few days. How many?

Henry thought to what his father had said in the smithy that afternoon, on how they had an order and shipment to prepare for some high classed merchant. The merchant would arrive in ten days, making it their top priority for the coming week. He could use it as an excuse, even though he cared less for the order. "Nine moons hence I shall return."

He eyed her hands, hair, and lips, taking in all that was her beauty wishing to touch her and claim to the world that she was his. That she was his magic, his fae, and his love. It was undeniable that she would reject to leave with him, for their relationship was not as strong as he wished, however he decided to ask regardless. Perhaps the Nymph was as smitten by him as he so hoped she was. It was worth the attempt.

He approached her, hoping to take her hand in his. "I fear as that will be the soonest I can return, my love. My heart aches in the longing yet to be, wishing to take you with me so that I may not have to stand a day separated from you."

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida nodded at the man “I will wait for you,” she said as she felt his gaze upon her. He was impressed she could see it in his eyes. Of course, he was, she was a fea and he is a human male. Reon had told her that most human females could only dream to possess a beauty even half that of hers. But, Reon couldn’t look like her like that anymore. She never thought she missed that. To be looked at that like that. To feel the tension that went out from that glance. She could feel he was eager to touch her as much as she was eager to feel his hands on her skin.

“wishing to take you with me”

The words hit her by surprise. They sounded innocent enough just a wish no more but, the desire in his voice told her otherwise. Softly she ran her hand across his cheek. “I beg you my story weaver, don’t ask me to follow you,” she said her voice soft but clear. “Look around you, I am part of this forest as much as this forest is part of me,” she said as she gestured at the trees around them. “I made a promise to my willow tree, I shall not leave him,” she added as she a step closer to her willow tree and ran her hand across its bark just as she had stroked Henry’s face moments ago.

 

[SalemKitty]

Henry let his hand fall as she caressed his cheek. His heart soared until it plummeted to the earth with her rejection. No. No. This is okay. He wanted her for her magic, for this need for nature. To peel her from it when they had just met? He would scare her away and that was not what he wanted. He would have her heart, body, and mind. He just needed more time. Yet, he had already said the words of missing her. He could not take it back.

What else could he ask for?

"I understand, and while it breaks my heart, I know that I must no separate you from the wood." Magic, right? Fae got their magic from their homes? He tried to remember the legends, drawing a blank as he tried. "And your home."

He took a step back, picking his quiver up and bow. "I ask too much for your presence with mine, but ask for something to remember you by. Perhaps a lock that I may place in a locket to hold you near to my heart."

Henry had no locket. He was well aware that none in his family did. However, making one was not too difficult a task for the son of a blacksmith. What his father didn't know, wouldn't kill him. Henry approached hoping that she would gift him with a piece of her. Unsure of where he'd put it for the mean time, but trusting the connection they had forged.

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida saw the sadness in the boy's eyes. Had he really thought she would go with him? She breathed out relieved when he turned out to be understanding and didn’t push further. Not for now at least. She could make him forget, but then he would forget her completely. She didn’t want to risk that.

A lock of her hair. She could give him that. She nodded, “I have trusted you with my name, I will trust you with my hair,” she said softly as she grabbed a lock of her fire red hair in her hand. She curled it around her fingers, letting her magic do the work. Without pulling the lock of hair separated from the rest of her hair. “Are you carrying a locker with you, my story weaver?” she asked as she fidgeted with the hair in her hand. It was a risk, she was taking she knew that. A hair and a name of a fea are too powerful things. It is easy for him to use it against her. If he knew how to. Something that she doubted he would. She hoped he wouldn't. Still, she could feel the forest disapproving of her decision. She didn't want him to leave, disappear for always. Could bare saying no twice in a row. But, most of all she was bored.

She missed adventuring, something happening. It was in her nature. She used to always end up in trouble, something that brought her father into despair. Something that made her end up her alone with her willow tree. Since then not much had happened. The boy was too much in love to really hurt her, besides she was already bound to her willow tree. That way even if he figured out how to perform a binding it wouldn't work. At least she hoped so.

 

[SalemKitty]

"Alas, I do not have a locket on my person. Unlike my bow, it is not something I have kept with me as I have had no purpose... no love, to hold close to my heart. None like you." Henry answered her, figuring it was better to go with the truth. She was already convinced to give it to him. Perhaps he could get her to let him carry it in his quiver. "I have one at home, and in it I shall place your gift, until then I'll protect it within my quiver, held close to my body at all times."

He hoped she would accept this answer. If not, he was out of luck. Praying to the God above, he hoped that this magical being would trust him with something so insignificant, after all he did not know of his culture.

 

[Blue winter rose]

“unlike my bow”

Ida looked at the longbow he was holding. His bow, of course, she could weave her hair into the string of it, that would be perfect. He would be able to use it for anything that way and he will still have something to remember her with.

The girl smiled at the flattering of the boy, “It might get lost in your Quiver. I thought of something better. May I hold your bow?” She spoke as she reached out for the bow. Careful she hold it in her hands. As if it was something valuable. To the boy it would be she thought. If he carried it around to everywhere.

She started to sing in the language of the fea. Even though her voice was soft it seemed to echo through the entire forest. Like the forest itself was humming along with the song. The language had something hypnotising over it, different from all sounds yet so the same.

As she song the lock of hair seemed to get a vague red glow over it. With her slender fingers, Ida weaved the hairs around the string of the bow. When she was finished the glow died out just as she had sung her last note. The lock of hair now seemed like a part of the string. It was barely any ticker, but, if you looked closer you could see the red strings mix through the string of the bow. Like the string itself was partly made of it.

“I will give you this gift my story weaver, as a gift of trust. The forest will lead you to me like it did two times before. Be careful with it, don’t break it” Ida spoke as she handed the bow back to the boy.

 

[SalemKitty]

Henry watched as Ida spun her hair into his bow. The forest sang with her. Light winds brushed his skin. The world seemed to reverberate in her son as she worked her magic. This is Fae magic. He knew naught whether to be afraid or mystified by the actions of Ida. His bow glowed under the moonlight, a soft red with her hair. When her voice died away, so did the light and the physical manifestation of the magic. She handed the bow back to him.

He could not identify any difference, than the color shift in his bow string. It was a bit of a red color, woven with her hair, and not something anyone would notice at all. She announced that the forest would lead him to her once more, and it was his cue to leave. Hesitating he took Ida's hand and kissed it. "Nine moons hence, my love."

Bow in hand Henry left the clearing, wandering back through the woods towards his home. His thoughts circled on Ida. He thought of what he would bring her next, on what stories he would give her. He'd need to give her stories when he went back. Perhaps a flower as a gift? Would that offend her? He would save the gift for later. He'd need to gauge more on her connection to nature itself.

When Henry arrived at home, his father was awake.
"Where were you." his father glared at him.
"Out." Henry hadn't expected this.
"Why?"
"The Fae Wood."
"I told you that place is dangerous."
"And I am fine. I have returned."
"So you have. We have a very important guest coming from North. You mustn't act like a child."

"I am not a child father."
"I suppose not. We still work at dawn."
"I know." Henry walked past his father towards his room. Seeing his father put in in a foul mood, but the reflection of his bow in the moonlight relaxed his heart. Ida, his love. He'd see her soon and then he'd never have to part with her.

 

[SalemKitty]

Martin's celebration dinner had gone well. The girl's family had been impressed by the meat that Henry had provided their family. They were interested in Martin and his skills. The details for their marriage had gone well and with the next few months the dowry would be paid and then she'd join their family. Martin was working on getting a house made for her and him, one close to the smithy so that he could work there. Since it was getting closer to the cooler months, and building homes took time, it was predicted that it would take time and for the time being she would stay with them in their home.

Henry didn't care.

In those days he didn't care for the plans, the dinner, the hunting, the trading, the way that his village worked, or the important people at his father's smithy there to pick up orders. All he could think of was Ida. Each day was excruciatingly long, making it clear that his time away from her was going to be more work than he intended. He had wanted her to pine for him and yet here he was wishing to see her eyes and to touch her skin.

Smitten. It was the word for what he was.

"Henry." His father called out to him.

That night he would return to her side. He needed to bring her a gift. A flower? It was what Martin said girls liked.

"Henry." His father called again.

What sort of flower? A wild flower? No. Something from a garden that could not be found in nature. A rose? Yes, a rose. Roses were flowers of love. When he got a break, he could run to the village gardens and get one. The flowers were meant for the Lord of their land, so he'd have to sweet talk his way into it.

"Henry." His father's voice cut to him for the third time.
"A Hundred and Sixty Five. I told you that already Father." Henry looked back to his father from the work books that he was rewriting. His father's hand writing was a mess, but it got the job done. Henry had better penmanship and knew his numbers better. It wasn't like he doing the job of copying notes and making measurements. It was business that was more boring than anything. He wasn't taught to use the tools, nor was he permitted to take the Knight exam at the Lord's estate.

With his father was a figure accompanied by knights. When had they arrived? The man with the knights was not their Lord.
"Mr. Vazil." His father introduced the man with the guards as if Henry was supposed to know the name already. "Is here to collect the weapons for our Lordship."
Then why did his father need him? The total order was a hundred and sixty five. It was one of the most expensive orders Henry had ever seen. Were their people going to war? With the weapons that were commissioned, along with armor, it would make sense. "They've paid in installments. So the final total will be fifty."

"Fifty." His father nodded as George and Martin brought out the items. Mr. Vazil examined them with a glance before nodding for the guards to help Henry's brothers with loading the equipment out.
"His Lordship has asked me to negotiate the final price with you." Mr. Vazil's words seemed to hold more than simple negotiation. Henry's ears perked at the words.
"He knows the total. My business only works if I have the money to get the best materials, and to pay my staff." Henry's father disagreed.
"Currently we are in war." Mr. Vazil continued. "Wars cost more money and his Lordship does not wish to higher the taxes on his people. He wants to keep you in peace without having to feel the effects of the war."
"The war already has it's hold. They have been drafting our sons in this village."

Henry thought of the boys and men he knew that had disappeared in the recent days. He hadn't thought much of it as he had been too focused on Ida to care, however the signs of war were already there. Was this his chance? Could be become a soldier and then a knight? Or a knight through the exam now that there was a war? But, what about Ida.

"Yes, but to heavily tax his people is asking for too much." Mr. Vazil shook his head. "Can you do him this favor? It is but a simple thing. He will surely pay you back."
Henry watched his father grimace. This was his chance, Henry realized. To show his worth to his father.
"That's how debts are made." Henry spoke up moving from his desk towards the man, "But it can never be ensured that he will pay us back. His word is not worth its weight in gold. Not in the number of wars he has partaken in."
The man eyed Henry with none of the surprise Henry had wanted to see.
"If we were to allow this favor, then what about the next one, and the one after? Where does it stop with our Lord or the other lords who ask us for favors. My father's smithy is highly praised. We expect to be paid for what we worked and should we not get the pay it would be the equivalent of being taxed. There is no difference, but our people would like to see the physical money. Word is only good for so much." Henry continued. "You can make deals in words, but payment is with coin."

"I suppose so." The man's lips cracked into a smile. "I will inform his Lordship and the money will arrive within the day."
Henry's father eyed the man before speaking to Henry. "Henry go help your mother."
"I still have these logs to finish." Henry reminded his father of the work he had long finished. Henry wouldn't reveal that when he was sure that his father was about to speak to this man in private.
"You were taught at the Lord's manner?" Mr. Vazil asked Henry.
"In my letters and numbers." Henry answered. He was no Huntsman's boy and was stripped of running from Harvy Hunt by spending his time inside the Lordship's castle. He had helped his father and brothers in those years with the last war. Now that he was old enough, he should have headed to the castle itself to give himself to the war effort, opting not to be protected by his father any longer.

"And where did you learn to speak as such?"
Henry thought of his time at the castle. Instead he provided another name who had helped him refine his skills in bartering and learning how to tell if he was getting screwed. "Ale-- Mr. Alexander."
"From the Trading Post?" Mr. Vazil confirmed.
"We have a partnership with him for supplies." Henry answered.
"I see." Mr. Vazil nodded. "I work with him in particular, but I suppose I should skip the middle man and come directly to the other end."
"I suppose you should." Henry eyed him, hoping to extort the man of money in the process.
"I suppose so." Mr. Vazil then spoke to Henry's father. "I'll return in six months."

Henry's father visibly relaxed with the words. Henry was not sure what it meant when he heard his brothers calling for him outside. Grabbing the ledger he went outside to confirm the contents of the shipment. Did his father and this Mr. Vazil have a deal already? Had Henry over stepped? His father hadn't said anything. Mr. Vazil and his father came out of the smithy.

"Pleasure to meet you Henry Blackflame." Mr. Vazil then directed the guards with the supplies away from the smithy. Henry looked back to his father who said nothing before turning back to the smithy.
Henry didn't know whether to be annoyed or not. Had he disappointed his father or not? The silence told him nothing.

"What did you say to him?" George asked Henry.
"I stopped us from losing money." Henry answered. Of course he was a failure in his father's eyes and so it was probably more embarrassing than anything else. Shoving the ledger to his brother he turned from the smithy. "I'm going out."
"Henry."
"I need to clear my head." Henry answered grabbing his bow and glaring at his father before leaving. His father said nothing as he left the smithy and their home headed to get a flower. Still he was not good enough for his father? Was that not why his father had pulled the strings to get Henry to learn? He was supposed to show off the knowledge and yet his father seemed to get so irritated with him when he did.

A flower. A flower for Ida. Ida would clear his head. She'd love him. She'd be his proof of magic, of skill, and of worth. No one would be able to look down on him or to debate with him on what he knew. She was his proof of courage and ability. Then he'd leave this place behind forever.

Rose in hand from garden, stolen. Bow and quiver at his back. Henry stalked into the Fae Forest knowing that it was the promised day and it hadn't come soon enough.

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida sat high in her willow tree leaning against the trunk with her back. She was there but, her mind was far away. She watches over the forest through the trees. There was her family sitting along a long wooden table. They were laughing and talking without her. All of them handsome and well mannered. Behaving like they should living the life that their father had laid out for them. The day she was one of them was so long ago, the memory has faded away. Their voices were muffled, hidden away by the protective spells around the middle of the forest. The actual magic forest, Henry probably didn't know but, she was just at the border of it. The grey area between human and fea world.

Quickly she moved away to the other side of the forest guiding the borders of the forest. Even when she went to the outer row of trees she still couldn't see the boy. He was further away beyond where she could see, far away in the human world. She sat there watching for a long time, waiting for her story weaver to return.

There he was, her heart fluttered as she spotted the boy walking into the forest. The string of his bow lit of softly. It would show him the way, shining brighter as he came closer and closer. He would know where to go, he was carrying the bow. Even when he closed his eyes every step he took in the forest would lead to her.

 

[SalemKitty]

The forest seemed to open up to him. Was she calling him forward? It had never been this easy to move through the forest before. How he hoped it were the case. Could Fae even bend forests to this? Was her magic that powerful? How he needed to take her from this place. Through the grass and tree, Henry traveled at a brisk pace hoping to arrive before the flower could begin to wilt. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. Desire, anger, need, a sense of obligation and a want to prove himself. Ida. His key to everything.

Upon arriving at her clearing, Henry spotted his love within the branches of the Willow Tree.
"Ida." He called to her. "I have returned, as I promised."
Flower behind his back and free hand out to her he beckoned her to him. Would she take his hand? Would she let their hands meet, for him to touch her more than soft moments?
"Did you think of me, in our time apart?" Would she answer him? Flower towards her, he did not wait. "I missed you. A gift. A garden rose."

The red rose was garden born, and cared for. Red, the color of love. Rose the flower of love. He'd seen forest roses but they were different than garden roses. Garden roses were royal, for high classed individuals. They were unable to survive on their own, and immediately he wondered if she would be bothered by the gesture. What were the customs of Fae? Did they gift with flowers as humans did? Did they speak the same language of flowers, although Henry wondered if Fae had provided the language of flowers to humans. He just hoped that she would not be offended by the gesture.

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida jumped down from the tree as the boy appeared from between the trees, landing softly on the forest ground. “I have been waiting for you, my story weaver,” she said as she took his hand. Ida glanced over at the rose the boy offered.

She smiled as she recognized the gesture, Reon had brought her red roses as well. Told her the red roses where the flowers of love. But, the roses he had given her didn’t look as pretty as the one Henry gave her. It looked fake, fragile a pretty picture of the roses Reon once given to her. “it is beautiful,” she said as she carefully took it from the boy. It wasn’t a lie but, somehow the tattered roses Reon had given had felt more real. It didn’t matter she told herself, it wasn’t like she would ever be as close to Henry as she is too Reon. No one would ever will.

‘You take good care of my hairs?” she asked even though she knew he had, she would have been able to know if the string had broken. She would have felt it.

 

[SalemKitty]

"I did." Henry answered slipping his bow off his shoulder to show her. "Your protection has blessed me."

It wasn't exactly a lie. He hadn't had the time to go hunting in the last few days, having to barter for food instead. If he had gone hunting, he wondered whether or not the weight of the draw would change. He hadn't exactly used the bow at all. Perhaps he was treasuring it. Perhaps it was just out of the simplicity of his life. How he longed to leave that world.

"What stories would you like of me today?" He asked her, reaching for her hand but letting her decide whether or not to give it. He could not be too forceful, no matter how much he wanted to embrace her. This was how he got what he wanted, and there in the dark of the night he forgot all the reasons he had fled from his home in such a fury. None of that mattered now. Now it was her, and getting her to love him, to be with him, to go with him forever. "A happy story once more?"

He suggested that they sit, slipping his quiver off and setting it on the ground with his bow. This story would take forever, and he did not care for responsibility. That night, he'd stay with her for as long as he so wished. Even if that meant until the sun rose once more.

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida nodded, “I am glad it had reassured a safe return,” she answered softly at the man. She meant it she truly did after all it was the reason she had gifted him in the first place. That and to ensure he wouldn’t forget her.

“I gladly listen to all your stories. They are all just as fond to me as long as you are the one who weaved the words together that formed the story,” Ida said as she said in front of him. “But, if I may request do you have a romantic story up there hidden?” she said as she put her finger on the boy’s forehead.

As he started talking she listened in peace, as she let the rose that was gifted her move around in her hands. She wished he could forever sit there in front of her. Talking, bringing her to worlds she never visited and she never would visit. As she closed her eyes she could see the stories happen right in front of her.

 

[SalemKitty]

The romance story was one that he knew far too well. It had been told to him by his mother, and then later by his brother. The story was long, not that he cared as he did not plan to return home that night. It was a story of valor, honor, and ultimately love. It was the story he had always dreamed of, a story of ultimate sacrifice. The knight of the story had been loved by the people, sought after by many women, and watched by the king. The Knight had been one of the most powerful men in the world and when he fell in love, he fell in love in full. The woman he loved was common, mysterious, lovely, and like a flower that grew in the most dangerous of conditions. When the knight had, had to pick between her and his country he had chosen her. He had chosen her over his own life that became forfeit with the choice. He gave his all to her and she gave her all to him.

However, Henry would change the ending. The issue with the story was that in the end they both died. The two died in each others arms surrounded by the love they shared. Their bodies burned and they were reduced to ash. Often times the story was used as warning for men of the country to never give up their honor for their king. That nothing in this world could save them if they betrayed their king, not even their god for their god sided with their king. Henry did not like this ending, believing it to have been an amended ending for the sake of morals as Kings took over and fought further.

So he would change the ending, where the Knight and the girl escaped through the wood by some sort of magic. He changed the girl to reflect Ida, magical, a nymph, powerful. He decided on the ending when he had begun and as he worked through the story he adapted the characters to reflect his image of them both.

The night grew cooler, darker, harder to sea as Henry wove his tale of adventure and adoration. His eyes gazed upon Ida trying to read her knowing that with his words he was getting a sort of reaction out of her. He told her of their touches, their kisses, their love that warmed the skin and protected them from danger. He spoke of the sharing of their soul and the ways in which they were meant for each other until he could speak no more and needed a break before continuing into the final act.

"From here it does get darker. We can still stop now, my love." Henry warned her as he swallowed hard. He spoke lightly, just above a whisper, trying to let his voice rest. "But if we continue, I can not promise a happy ending." Rather that he could, but he was not sure the ending would feel the same as it would be his words and his words alone with no outline to follow from. He could easily change the ending. It was if she would be able to tell that he feared.

 

[Blue winter rose]

Ida listened in awe to the words of the man. As the story progresses it hit her, the man was talking about them. She let her eyes wander over the man's body. Blushing as he described the kisses and touches. She softly shook her head looking at the ground when the man spoke about the sharing of souls. She already shared a soul with her willow tree. She loved to listen to the man's story, might even be physical with the boy. But, it would never be more than that. An adventure, a distraction.

The girl nodded eagerly when he asked to continue. "Yes, please," she said. She wanted him to keep talking. When he talked she didn't have to worry about the man's willingness to share souls. He has no idea what it even meant. She didn't want a romantic bound with him but, turning him down would mean he likely never returned. "Real stories, barely have a good ending. It is mostly changed turned to make it seem happy ever after," she spoke.

 

[SalemKitty]

"Real stories, barely have a good ending. It is mostly changed turned to make it seem happy ever after," As she said the words, Henry was left wondering if he should continue with his plan. It dawned on him that if he did so, she would probably realize it. Would she withdraw herself from him if he changed it? That would be a tragedy in the life he head dreamed for himself. He needed her, to prove himself, for a good life away from the stares.

"Yes." He forced himself to agree. He sat there for a second starring to the sky waiting until his body told him it could push on. When it told him he moved quickly leaving no word unsaid, spinning the tale once more and leading it towards its dramatic conclusion. The war came for the two lovers, a war made to destroy them specifically. They were hunted like animals. The knight defended her as best he could but no man could fight against hundreds of the men who he called brother. And then they were forced, deep into the forest.

The moment came for him to decide. Henry looked deep into Ida's eyes. The night had grown so long that he was certain the first rays of sunlight would be peaking above the horizon soon. The story had always been one of the longest ones he knew, told over the course of months. "I love you." Henry let the words sit a moment before continuing, "He whispered to her as the trees shook in the pressure of the hundreds of soldiers that came to find them, in the weight of the storm that raged overhead. Lightning struck the land once more and yet the rain refused to fall. The fire was growing closer. The soldiers were looming in the branches, out of sight but ever there. His blood dripped from his side, a wound that would not be easily healed should they escape."

And that was where the lovers died, the soldiers came, and attacked them once more. The Knight was able to defend them, creating great injury to himself. He would have escaped with her to let her live until he found her on the ground wounded herself. She had been attacked as he tried to defend her. He cradled her as she cried, and Henry described the moment. The lighting, the weight of their touch, the smell of death that loomed closer, the heat of the flames that had come to take them. He described their last kiss and the words that they spoke to each other as they died in each other's arms. Their eyes holding the image of the other in an attempt to ensure that come eternity they'd know who to remember.

"Death took them, as the flames over came them. Their bodies burned in the red flames, less in a destructive way but more like the growth of flowers, coming from the inside and reaching out, until they and the bodies around them were reduced to ash. The forest was reduced to ash, and all that remained was a memory of the eternal love." Henry held Ida's eyes intending to finish this story right. He had decided to go the route that the story originally took but he did intend to change it a bit. "The years would come and go. Kings would rise and fall. The people would remember them and then they would not until it was a distant legend spoken by mothers to their sons and daughters. The people would remember as the Kings tried to make them forget, tried to tell them that it was a warning. For yes, it was a warning, a warning to all those who decided to reject the crown and the crown's ways, to reject your King, they'd say, was the worst offense any man could make. However, the people remembered, that when the rains finally fell, and when all that remained was ash, when the years moved on and the new growth sprouted, that a beautiful tree arose from the ground in which the eternal couple met their final rest. Many would try to destroy this tree, to chop it down, and to burn it, yet it would not move. For it was eternal, gifted with the magic that the woman once had the tree would remain an ageless testament to their love. Gifted with the strength and stability of the Knight who had protected her to death. The tree was of them both, and together they were invincible. The people had not forgotten, for this was proof. Proof that true love conquers all."

Henry completed his story and reached out to touch Ida's hand, hoping for once that she would let him.

 

[Blue winter rose]

"I love you"
Ida held her breath for a second panicking the man was talking to her. Relived she breath out again when he resumed the story. She had no idea what she had to say on that. Saying it back would have been a lie and her willow tree was right behind her. Not saying anything would have chased him away.

In awe, she listened to how the story continued, with tears in her eyes. The fierce soldier made her think of Reon, he would have done the same. He would fight for her, did fight for her. Like she did for him. When he spoke about the tree she glanced back at her willow tree. Would he know? She had told him about her willow tree. Not that precise but, still. Would this be him signing he understood? That she was already bound?

She put her other hand on top of his hand as he touched her. "What a beautiful ending my story weaver," she spoke. Holding his hand in hers.

 

[SINNyorita]

"But if we continue, I can not promise a happy ending."

Of-course there was no happy ending to the story the boy narrated to Ida. For that story has not ended. The story lived as long as Ida did, and Reon lived in her heart. The story lived as long as The Willow Tree stood tall above them, with Ida's feelings resonating within it.

It was their story, albeit changed from the reality on many levels. But there was no mistaking it. The Knight the boy spoke of and the honour he sacrificed for love, and the woman he chose, were all too familiar to Reon. As the boy continued, memories of the long forgotten past flooded his mind. It gave him a strange thrill to hear of a lore about himself from a boy who was obviously using that as a reference in hope of winning Ida's love. His Ida's love.

For the first time in many years, many hundreds of years Reon was feeling more than just love for Ida. On one hand he felt pride that their passionate love story has been passed on through centuries, to inspire many a young lovers. On the other it wasn't pleasant to know that they - Ida and Reon - have been reduced to just a story.

A story that Ida so intently listened to, with excitement in her eyes.

Reon knew of their own fables, the woods have whispered to him the many versions of it. But the story this man told to Ida, was the closest that ever came to the reality that he shared with her. It made him doubt and wonder about the boy some more. He was no longer taking the boy easily.

Where did he hear this from? Did he really just make it up? What if he didn't. What if he knew? Then that would mean Ida was in danger. The truth about Reon, his existence as The Willow Tree was deeply connected to Ida's very own existence. The truth, if it fell into the wrong hands, would destroy not only him, but Ida and the entire magic in the woods. Was she thinking the same thing?
NO.

The words that came out of Ida's lips, leaving sweet mists in the cold night air, made it very clear to Reon, that Ida was not thinking at all of her safety.

"What a beautiful ending my story weaver."

Did she atleast catch on the fact that it was their own story? A bitter thought ran past Reon. Does she even remember our story? He knew it was a cruel thing to doubt the memory of a Fae that practically lived on memories. That is why stories - real or fables - were so important to her. That is why we are so important to her - the love that we share, the things we went through, she has practically lived on it.

But Reon couldn't help feel nervous that she was yearning for more than just a story. Her eyes were glassy from it. Should Reon really only wait for her to come to herself, and realise what was happening arround her, what it could lead to? Or give her a sign himself?

"Beautiful ending indeed...This was indeed one of the better one out of all the ones we have already heard.The story weaver almost seems to be inspired by reality."