It's like being lost in the wood. Everything and nothing points the way toward home. Every path is tangled; neither sun nor moon shed any light on the matter.
~Patricia McKillip, Winter Rose
|ADIRELLE|
Three days later, my mind is still filled with him, and troubled by him. The Fae in the Woods. Even though we spoke for but a moment, even though I never had a clear look at him, I cannot forget him. He was too alien to be forgotten, too fascinating to be replaced by other thoughts.
And he never told me his name.
As I plant the herbs I took from the forest, half my mind wanders back to him. Precisely what was he? Why was he watching me? Does he want something from me?
Far more disturbing: does he want me?
The thought is too startling, and full of implications I cannot and will not consider. They are too unexpected to answer. And I don't want to answer them.
I finish my planting and sit back on my heels, still kneeling in the dirt. It smells good here, of fresh-turned soil, and sharp or sweet or bitter herbs, accentuated by the warmth of the sun. This is how things should be. This right. This peaceful. With a small sigh of pleasure, I rest my hands on my knees and look up at the sun…
…to see him.
And I thought he was handsome by daylight.
A distant part of me wonders when I started thinking him handsome. But he is, in the light, with those inhumanly flawless features, blue-black hair, and those ever-so-dark eyes…
Heaven help you, Relle, you're being an idiot.
I don't realize I gasped until he grins with amusement. "Why…I mean, what are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, Lady Herbalist," he says, the amusement dropping from his smile, but not the charm. "Unless you wish me to go away?"
Yes. "No," I tell him. He looks pleased. "But why did you come?"
"I already told you that, Lady," he replies lightly. "And since I'm not leaving, I suppose we should have proper introductions?" He pauses for me to answer.
"My name is Adirelle," I tell him gravely.
He bows his head with equal solemnity. With the smile gone, his eyes look so very old. "Call me Terion," he says. "Might I call you Relle?"
It seems odd that he knows my nickname, but right as well. I rise, brushing the dirt from my hands and knees. "Of course."
He slips lightly from the wall and comes to stand before me. Catching up one of my hands in both of his, he bows, with perhaps a hint of mockery. "An honor, Lady Relle."
My hand tingles at his touch, and I again chide myself for being foolish. Though faintly repulsed by how foreign Terion is, I want him nearer at the same time, and for the same reason. He straightens, still holding my hand, and although his expression is perfectly blank, I suspect he knows exactly how I feel. Suddenly uncomfortable, I step back and withdraw my hand, but it is hard to look away from those eyes. I am grateful when I hear my name called by one of the townsfolk.
"I need to go," I say softly, and he replies in the same manner. "Then I should leave, yes?" He inclines his head, not quite bowing, and a small smile dances across his face when he looks up. "Might I come again, Relle?"
No.
"Yes." He smiles again, and I turn away when my name is called once more. When I look back, he is gone.
I am passionately human and I shall close my eyes to thee for truth proves me mortal to be; yes, this is love and I must put my heart to sleep for this is love; true love dims in human's keep and I am damned…
~Faith and the Muse, "Dream of Mascen"
|JOURNAL|
I have been here for a month now. Long enough to make this place feel like home, and long enough to be troubled by things I shouldn't have disturbed. But I think he's disturbed me more than I've disturbed him…
His name is Terion. Heaven help me, I cannot stop thinking about him.
No serious illnesses or accidents have befallen Brylan's people, much to my relief. Sometimes, though, I think there are enough little things to fill up that spare time. Perhaps not, as he is still in my thoughts far too often.
Why? Why can I not stop thinking of him? He terrifies me down to my bones. And every day, I long-almost painfully-to see him again.
Oh, why?
And if I'd the spell to claim your existence
Your clandestine thoughts, your soul's soft persistence
I'd follow the mirror aglow with your image
Your water-grave eyes and your lingering fragrance.
But unknown by you, lost in the shadows,
I Fade and Remain…
~Faith and the Muse, "Fade and Remain"
|TERION|
She is different. I avoid the herbalist's home for the rest of the week, disturbed and worried by what I saw in that girl. Every day, this once-simple path becomes more complex and risky. She is good. Perhaps that is the most disturbing thing of all. So innocent and honest that even Isari sees it. I told her of my encounters with the girl, and she said softly, "Don't kill her, Terion." She was not jesting.
I go to the girl's house after the week has passed. Ample time enough to allow her curiosity to grow to a bright flame. Ample time enough for me to force down my doubts.
Concealed by glamours and a practical hiding place, I simply watch the house and those who visit it for much of the day. An hour before dusk, when no one comes at all, I make my way toward her home. Her simple acquiescence at my last visit-consent for me to come again-is permission enough for me to enter her house from the back door, which she had left unlatched. Inside, the rooms already speak of her, from the cups filled with fragrant flowers and herbs to the very arrangement of the furniture. I wander through the rooms and halls until I find her sitting at a round table in her kitchen, writing in a small, leather-bound book. She wears a dress tonight, dark green with full skirts, and loose sleeves gathered at the wrist. I lean against the doorframe, content to simply watch her until she finishes. After she wipes her pen on a scrap of cloth and corks the bottle of ink, I speak.
"Good evening, Relle."
She is well and truly startled, dropping her quill and halfway out of her seat before I can blink. When her eyes alight upon me, she calms, though still tense in her expression. "Why are you here?" she demands, her voice sharp.
I raise my hands before me, placatingly. "Peace, Relle." I must suppress an amused smile. Her skittishness is, to me, rather humorous. "I came to see you."
Some emotion flashes briefly in her eyes, too briefly for me to recognize it, and perhaps to swiftly for her to realize she felt it. "Why?" she asks, voice softer, milder.
"I wanted to," I answer, and as I say it, I realize it is true. I stayed away from her simply because I wanted to come.
This time, the look in her eyes remains for a moment longer. Pleasure. And as she realizes it, she reddens slightly. Taking a hasty breath, she spreads her hands, attempting a steady smile. "You've seen me," she says lightly. "What do you want now?"
My answering smile comes easily. Almost naturally. "To talk, perhaps? If you wish."
She blinks at me once or twice, and takes a deep breath before saying, slowly, "I…I would like that." Her green eyes seem faintly surprised, but her smile does not.
I slide into the chair across from hers, and she retakes her own seat, one hand straying to rub nervously over the cover of her small book. "Tell me, Relle…"
At the touch of your hand,
At the sound of your voice,
At the moment your eyes meet mine;
I am out of my mind,
I am out of control,
Full of feelings I can't define…
And though no one's to blame,
It's a crime and a shame,
But it's true all the same,
It's a dangerous game.
~Leslie Bricusse, Jekyll & Hyde, "Dangerous Game"
|ADIRELLE|
It is a month since Terion's first evening visit, and I am sitting before the hearth, alternating between checking my accounts and gazing abstractedly into the flames, my thoughts wandering to Terion. For the last month, he has visited every two or three days, always in the evening. I never notice his arrival until he chooses to alert me to his presence. And he no longer frightens me the way he once did, though a slight thrill of fear brushes through me occasionally, as though I am trying to hide some forbidden pleasure.
I suppose I am.
With a sigh, I turn back to the papers in my lap. They are not particularly urgent, or even important, but I do need to keep up with them. Or at least I think I do, until the light touch of a familiar hand on my shoulder distracts me again.
I greet the distraction with a contented smile. "Terion." He smiles back as he comes around me, his fingers brushing my cheek as I look up. "I was hoping you would come tonight."
He looks pleased upon hearing that, and says, "I was hoping to hear you say that tonight." His eyes glitter with fond amusement. He crouches before me, resting his arms on his knees, simply looking up at me. He wears a loose shirt of dark blue, black trousers, and soft, low boots of the same shade. And a cloak, tonight. Winter is fast approaching, and the night's chill swiftly grows sharper. He smells like the forest, fresh and wild. "How do you fare, Relle?" he asks softly.
That dark-eyed stare can still discomfit me. "Not lacking for anything, now." He mirrors my sudden smile. "Would…do you need something hot? To drink?"
I think he knows how my thoughts scatter when he is near; how my confidence and calm of the day is shattered at night when he comes. He terrifies me, but I can't help drawing him near. And he knows.
But his expression is grave as he says, "I wouldn't impose on you." Flashing a brief smile that lights up his face, he adds, "I've no need of it."
"It's cold," I point out senselessly, for lack of something better to say, and blush when he replies, "You know best, Lady Herbalist."
"Silence." I gather up my papers as I rise from the chair. "I'll just be a moment."
He rises with me, and nods. "I can wait," he says, with an odd little smile. Biting my lip briefly, I nod, and flee the room. What's happening here is not right. When he comes-even when he doesn't-I am too easily distracted from what it is I seek. Too complacent in his company. I cannot let go this easily, I tell myself as I stack the papers on the kitchen table. I can't.
When I return, Terion is sitting in my chair, his hands clasped before his face. Gazing blankly into the flames, he seems completely unaware of anything around him. I watch him, the way the lights and shadows play over his features, over his raven hair. He seems, in this earthly, simple room, more Otherworldly than ever before. A small, confusing ache tugs inside me.
I cross the room with quiet steps, stopping when I stand behind him, but his eyes remain fixed on something beyond the fire. My gaze is drawn back to him, to his foreign, yet flawless features. He is so different from me. And when he continues to watch what he sees beyond these mortal flames, I reach forward with one hand, to trace with my fingertips his canted ear, to learn the feel of my hand on his face, to learn those features by touch. But the moment my fingers brush against him, he starts, and even as I recoil from his sudden movement, his hand flashes up to seize mine, turning toward me as he does. The look on his face is hard and intense, his hold surprisingly strong, and his expression holds me in place, incapable of pulling back any farther. I've never seen this side of him before, and it frightens me.
The look lasts for less than a heartbeat before his face relaxes into a crooked grin, his grip loosening. "I'm afraid I took your seat, Relle," he murmurs. For once, his light tone seems somewhat…forced. "Do forgive me." And he rises, his hold on my hand feather-light, now.
I would step back if only I did not want to step closer. "I don't mind. Really." It's hard to breathe with him so near. His slight grin seems amused. "Really. There…there is another seat…"
"You be silent, now," he murmurs, moving half a step closer, the grin changing suddenly to a soft smile. And when his head bends down and his lips brush mine, I feel like a nervous child of fourteen again…
And it is over. I retreat a pace, unaware that I hand taking hold of his fingers until I have to let go. Pressing a hand tot he side of my face, I whisper, "I…I think…" He, too, has moved back slightly, and the space between us is both too much and too little. He raises a dark brow, inviting me to continue. "I think you should go."
My words are a bit of a surprise to me, but he only grants me a mysterious little smile and nods in acquiescence. "As you wish, Relle." I walk with him to the door, both of us silent. As he opens it and pulls his cloak closer around him, I say softly, "Terion?"
He turns, his smile tinged with mischief, and catches up my hand in his. Bowing over my fingers, he replies, "I shall see you again soon, Lady Relle." I step back as he carefully closes the door behind him.
Relle, you cannot let go so easily.