Private Tales The Lost Princess and The Exiled Prince

[Maeve]

"Oh I don't want to put you out," Maeve grimaced. She already felt like she was in debt to him; he had saved her life and shown her nothing but kindness. "I'm sure I can pick up a bow on our travels," she had brought jewels with her that she had been sure would translate across the continents and races in terms of wealth. She rubbed her hands together and a faint blush crept over her cheeks. She was quite proud of her archery skills but it seemed odd to boast about them to him.

"I'm sure I'm nowhere near as good as your people."

 

[Arun]

He waved a hand in dismissal of her words. "It would be my pleasure to craft you one, a chance to hone my skills."

Arun was no smith, that fascination had always laid with his brother. What he could do though, was tree-singing. The best bows, at least those made by the Elves, were sung from the tree of a Wroshyr Tree. The wood was as hard as steel, and could only truly be shaped by singing to it.

Cutting or using a lathe would destroy the wood, something that many Anirians had learned during the wars.

"We have days yet until you're fit to travel." He noted. "Once you can make it to the ground. We will find your tree, and from it a bow."

Arun spoke as though it were obvious what he meant.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve shifted uncomfortably.

"Well... I have to at least... give you something in payment. I have gems, back at my grandfathers or..." she glanced around his room as she tried to think of a different way to gift him something as a thank you. Her people didn't tend to deal in coin so much as goods in stead. If she had had her art supplies she would have offered him a painting. "Maybe I can teach you something?" she didn't look entirely convinced with that either - what could an 18 year old human teach a 200 year old elf?

"What exactly does my tree mean anyway?" she canted her head to the side.

 

[Arun]

"Teach me your language" It seemed a fair enough price to him.

The Bow wouldn't take long to sing, only a couple of hours once he actually got started.

"The Falwood is a...magical place." It seemed funny calling it that, but he did not know another word in Common that would fit well enough. "The life here is...more than it is in other places. For me to craft you a bow, the tree must be willing to be crafted."

Consent had to be given. "So we must find the tree that will like you enough to become a bow for you."

At least partially of course, he wouldn't need the whole tree.

 

[Maeve]

"I would be honoured to teach you," Maeve's whole face lit up. It would actually be something of a challenge to keep her mind busy.

"And... I think... I understand," there were places like that on the Isle, mostly belonging to the Fae, that were similar. But the comparison was enough to help her understand the need for a tree to like her, which otherwise was a completely confusing and ridiculous notion. If trees had feelings then her people back home wouldn't have been able to craft or survive.

"Wait, is that why your fire doesn't burn with wood?" Gods, she had whacked that elf who had first captured her with a branch, had it felt pain of some kind? The idea actually worried her. The forest was so large she didn't want to make an enemy of trees, not before she knew she could get out of here.

 

[Arun]

"More or less." Arun said with a shrug. "I live in a tree-house sung out of a living tree."

He pointed out. "It would be rather rude to burn parts of it just for warmth."

Arun had of course used sticks and wood for fire before, the trees did not really mind when the branches had already fallen. Sometimes they even would grant their own boon if there was dire need for it. He remembered many such instances during the war.

"The fireplace is an enchantment." He told her.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open and she closed it with an audible snap.

"Is it all trees or just the ones in the Falwood?" she looked a little uneasy as she thought back over the amount of fires she had burnt whilst in the Tribals camp. Were they out to get her now - did they talk to each other, hold grudges? She grimaced and slowly looked around the cabin.

"What does an enchantment mean?"

 

[Arun]

"All trees can speak if you know how to talk to them." Arun answered, though from the look on Maeve's face it was more than clear she would likely not enjoy the answer.

"They are not vindictive." He told her. "Well...most of them."

One always had to worry about Treeants. "Most accept their lot in life and see it as the cycle of nature."

That was what they had told him anyway. It was hard to decipher what they meant sometimes.

"It's magic." He told her finally. "Magic that is bound to a specific place or thing. In this case the fireplace."

 

[Maeve]

Maeve gave another wary glance to the wooden walls and decided that it was probably wise not to burn wood ever again within the forest. Just in case.

"Magic isn't really... common where I'm from. It's seen as very much a thing the Fae have control over and it comes with a terrible cost most of the time," she finished off her tea and then set the mug down on the little table. "The elves used it so often and naturally, like I would have breathed - is that what it was like amongst your people too? Just a part of every day life?" there was a hint of awe and wonderment in her voice. Mae had probably had more contact with magic than most of her people but it still wasn't a common part of her life. The Wind came and went whenever it pleased and it wasn't like she could control it properly. Healing him had been her first real taste of... her gifts. And it had been exhausting.

 

[Arun]

”More or less.” Arun said with a frown.

He could not imagine life without magic being common, couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for such a life to even feel...ordinary. A spell as simple as the fireplace was something that everyone was capable of where he was from.

Lips thinned for a moment as he glanced towards the fireplace.

”I could teach you.” The Elf offered. The Magic of his people was not exceptionally difficult, working in a manner close to what most Human’s called ‘College Magic’. The only significant difference was where the power came from.

Human’s drew upon themselves, a crude and strange method that the Elves really only used when in an absolute emergency. Most of the time they took small gifts of power from what was around them. Trees, grass, even the beetles beneath the earth. That was what fueled their magic.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve turned her face from him to look at the fire. What would it be like to be able to create things like that on her own whim? There was an odd mix of excitement but also fear; it seemed like things that shouldn't be hers to control. Her eyes turned then down to her hands as she thought about what she had done to him, how she had healed his wounds and stopped the blood from leaving his body. It had been a rush but it had also terrified her.

"I think... I will stick to trying to figure out my apparent gifts first," she turned her hands over and slowly curled them into a fist then relaxed them, looking back up to Arun. "You probably think I'm weird for not wanting to huh?" a small, almost embarrassed smile curled at her lips. "I just... it was terrifying enough feeling your skin knit itself together beneath my hands let alone holding fire in them."

 

[Arun]

Arun shrugged. "The path is not for everyone."

He'd had quite a bit of time to learn different skills, and even as a child he had enjoyed magic. His mother had been a Sorcerer, and although he had nowhere near the level of her gifts there was something about the practice he simply enjoyed.

"My brother does not know an ounce of magic." Something that he had always boasted of strangely enough. "He believes that his study with the sword can outmatch any Sorcerer."

Which, he may very well have been right about. "You must pick whatever path is best for you. To heal is a great thing, a gift that should be appreciated as well as studied."

 

[Maeve]

"I'm not sure I want to..." Healing was a very honourable magic she was sure. But a healer she was not. It was also making use of the boons she had been given without having asked for them and without fulfilling her side of the contract. "I'm worried the more I use it the more it will make me indebted to Him," a small shudder ran through her and she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were suddenly cold, her eyes skating from his face to look out of the window.

A soft rain had begun to fall and for a moment all she could do was watch it as it trickled down the window pane.

"It's quite pretty here when it rains, it feels so calm," and the smell made her relax too.

 

[Arun]

"Then perhaps, careful experimentation is called for." Arun suggested quietly, frowning for a few seconds. "At least until we get you those arrows."

He flashed her a brief smile, trying to soothe some of her concerns.

Arun realized that he was not exactly the best suited for that particular role, but he would try to play it for her. Maeve had been kind. He felt it was the least he could do to return that. As the rain began to fall Arun half turned his head towards one of the open window.

"The Falwood is it's own little world at times." A smile touched his face.

"Here you are...isolated." A breath filled him. "The outside world can almost be forgotten."

He certainly had for the last one hundred years, until a human girl had wandered in.

 

[Maeve]

"I... like it," despite what had happened to her here. She was beginning to see the appeal.

Maeve leaned her cheek against her arm which was sprawled across the back of the sofa, her hair obscuring her face a little as she watched the rain. A gentle breeze blew in carrying the smells of rich vegetation and a freshness that only came after a heavy rain or storm. The thought hadn't even finished passing through her mind before a rumble of thunder and then a crack of lightning lit up the sky. Her heart hammered in her chest and her eyes lit up.

"Whenever we had a storm like this I used to try and out ride it," a soft smile spread across her face and she looked lost in a memory. "Across the Plains you could always see them rolling in and it was exhilarating to see if we could beat it back to the city," it had been the bane of her mothers life when she had tumbled into the palace soaked and red cheeked.

 

[Arun]

Arun smiled.

He could see Maeve get lost in the memory, remembering a more pleasant time of her life. It was nice to see. Over the last few days most of her memories had been rather dark. He much preferred this side of things, where she was calm.

Where she didn't jump away when he moved. "Could you imagine flying into one of those storms."

He asked her with a smile.

"Soaring on the back of an eagle and rushing through the clouds." Arun wanted to evoke the image in her mind. "Wind slashing at your hair, lightning racing through your veins."

 

[Maeve]

Maeve didn't turn back to look at him but she made a noise of utter pleasure at the images conjured in her mind. For a brief moment she shut her eyes and let herself drift off with his voice into the painting he created for her. Building on how it had felt to ride through a storm she added the feeling of weightlessness she imagined came with flying and a feeling of utter freedom. What it might look like flying into black clouds with the lightning to close it would cause all the hairs on the backs of your arms to raise like so..

Another throaty noise as her face melted into an expression of awe.

"Maybe one day..."

 

[Arun]

"Maybe." Arun nodded his head in agreement with her.

Perhaps one day he would get Valya back, perhaps one day he would once again soar above the clouds and through the storms.

It was a distant thought, almost more of a memory that a piece of his imagination, but it was there. His eyes closed for a moment, and a deep breath filled his lungs. "If there is one thing I have learned over the last two centuries..."[/color

He trailed off.

"Life is difficult to predict." Especially with humans around.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve gave a soft laugh and opened her eyes, turning them back to him even though she didn't move from her relaxed position against the sofa. The more they had spoken the more relaxed she had grown. Her legs were no longer held tight against her chest but slumped curled about her as they had been when she had occupied the sofa on her own, one foot was even stretched out onto his side beyond the small little wall she had built for herself.

"That feels like an understatement," never in her life would she have predicted the last few months. "If you break your exile I guess you can go on to life a whole new life somewhere, what do you think you'd like to do?"

 

[Arun]

He had never really considered the question. The first step to breaking his exile had been helping Maeve and her Grandfather. Once he did that...Arun was not entirely sure just what the next step could actually be.

His lips thinned. "I am not sure."

A part of him wanted to visit other places in the world. Elbion, Alliria, perhaps even the distant Tundra. He had heard rumor of Snow-Elves, people who were his kin but utterly different in some sort of way that seemed impossible.

"I would like to see how others of my kind live." Arun decided. "May they be the Sea-Folk, those of the sand, or perhaps even the reprehensible Drow."

That was what his father had always called them.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve blinked.

"I... I didn't even consider the fact there were differences in your race like there must be with humans," Maeve confessed, her cheeks colouring somewhat. Anirian's were the first other human race she had ever heard someone speak of. They really had been so isolated on the Isle. She felt... naive in a way. Though, she reasoned, there was no way for an outsider to find out about their Isle unless they possessed the Sight which meant they were either of the Isle or Fae.

"It sounds like a good idea though - I guess you have the time," an amused light glittered in her eyes.

 

[Arun]

"I think many of my own Kin wouldn't be too far off that level of thinking." Oh they all knew that other species of their race existed, but most would simply deny that they were even related. It was an ignorant and foolish belief, and one that his father had always abhorred.

If there was one thing the King of Eagles was not known for, it was bigotry among Elves. At one point he had even tried to contact the lost tribes of the coast of the Spear, though that had not ended as well as he might have hoped.

"I do." He said as he leaned back on the sofa, shifting slightly and accidentally running his knee against her extended leg. "But First I will help you."

Then he could embark on his own quest.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve grimaced a little at the hint of distaste in his tone, showcasing what he thought about his people whe shared that view. She could understand his view; it was ignorant to think they were the only type of elf around. Her thoughts turned to the types and places he had mentioned, trying to imagine what an elf from those regions might even look like. It was hard not knowing what the world looked like exactly.

She was imagining an elf made entirely of water when his knee brushed along her bare leg. It was instinct to tense but unlike before when it would have sent her shooting back a few feet this time she managed to breath through it, relax her body again, and keep her leg where it was resting against his knee. Arun wasn't going to hurt her, she rebuked herself. If he had wanted to do that he could have done it days ago.

Lightning lit the room again and drew her gaze back outside.

"Your help will be appreciated. Liath has wandered this world but... The Fae are a mysterious race even to us."

 

[Arun]

He turned his head as the lightning flared, rain falling in a torrential downpour. His lips thinned for a moment, and then his mouth opened as he spoke a few quick words.

There was an odd shimmer across the open windows, and then suddenly the howl of the wind was somehow silenced. The rain could still be heard upon the roof, but the patter of it was far softer than it had been even a few seconds before.

"I do not know much myself." He confessed, sighing slightly.

"There are some in the Falwood." Though where he did not know. "They mostly avoid my kind."

His mother would have known, but she had long since passed.

 

[Maeve]

Maeve blinked when the storm suddenly grew fainter even though she could see it was only growing heavier outside. Then she realised he had somehow shut the windows... or added some sort of shield about the place perhaps. Either way the breeze disappeared and the smell was gone. It became cosier inside with the warmth of the fire and the lashing rain against the windows unable to get at them. She hunkered down under the blanket and slowly stretched her leg out across his lap.

"I could sense them near some of the places we stayed with the tribes," Mae nodded. "It's like... a scent. Or a feeling I guess, you pick it up when you have lived with them your whole life I suppose. Or maybe it's the link between me and one of their own, I'm not sure. But I think they would be able to sense me in the same way."