Chapter 1

Once I Met a Stranger

Part 4

Grandmother’s stories had always thrilled Elizabeth, for though they were filled with fantasy, they were also brimming with practical information about the plants of the forest, which Elizabeth had put to good use on several occasions. Practical information and warnings, warnings of the most unsettling sort.

“‘Keep clear of willow trees and old oaks, the oldest and most mischievous wood spirits hide within.”’   Grandmother would sometimes whisper just before Elizabeth ran out to play in the forest. This element of danger was what made her games so exciting, but suddenly she was beginning to wonder if some of the things she thought were pure fantasy were indeed more practical information. The lines she had drawn for herself between fantasy and reality began to blur even more, and her thoughts turned back to collecting information, but not only for curiosities sake, for possible protection as well, ‘Additional knowledge never hurt anyone.’  She decided finally. She summoned all her courage and looked up rather quickly, meeting the strangers gaze with resolve, “And can you read my mind also, Sir Elf. ” She asked trying not to sound too interested.

The elf smiled to himself taking a few steps in the girl’s general direction.  Suddenly he was kneeling before her, “If thou did’st wish it.”  He whispered, leaning even closer.

Elizabeth almost lost herself in his piercing gaze and could not resist breathing the scent of him in again. She blinked, “What do you mean? If I wanted you to read my mind, you could, but if I didn’t want you to, you couldn’t?” Elizabeth asked suddenly very hungry to understand this most intriguing new concept.

The elf threw his cloak back to his sides and sat down cross-legged at her feet,  “Aye, ’tis almost like sending thine thoughts to me. If thou did’st wish to tell me something, thou need only direct the thought to me, but thine secrets always remain as thine own to keep.” He looked into her eyes, a softer green than his own with flecks of gold and amber glistening within their depths.

She looked intently back at him, then suddenly raised her dark brows. He smiled, almost amused, “Dane.” He said in answer to her silent inquiry, as he plucked a little flower of his own.

Elizabeth laughed brightly, proud of herself for directing the question properly, “That is a wonderful name. It sounds noble and brave. Are you noble and brave, Sir Dane, Protector of the Fair Folk?”

“I am, indeed.” Dane stood and held his fist to his chest, “Noble, brave and relentless. Mine enemy fears even his own shadow, for I can house mineself within even the tiniest strand of darkness and follow him as closely as his own thoughts.”

Elizabeth shifted, almost uneasy, and Dane bent forward, offering his right hand to her, while in his left he produced a tiny speckled posy, “‘Tis almost dark.”  He said, “I shall keep watch over thee to the edge of the wood, and on to the gate of thine village.”  Dotting her nose lightly with the little flower, Dane then handed it to her.

Elizabeth put the flower back to her nose and inhaled deeply the sweet hypnotic scent of Dane’s own special creation.  When she raised her eyes to thank him, he was no longer standing beside her, or in the thicket, or anywhere.

She had been ready to ask if she would ever see him again, but somehow she already knew the answer to that.  Elizabeth turned, gathering her skirts up in her fists and half ran, half skipped out of the forest and all the way back to her village, there she turned and gave a tiny wave to a shimmering in the far off woods.