She kept hearing the elder's words echoing in her ears as she crept
stealthily towards the darkened woods. Nothing but shadows enveloped
them, but they had a beautiful solace about them, and she was not
afraid. The tall, silent trees were much better company than the cruel
and supercilious Camargue, whom she despised. And to think that he
wanted to marry her! The thought was completely and utterly absurd.
Fell knew that her brief life would be stripped of freedom if she stayed
in the little valley of the elves, and though she hated to leave her homeland,
she would rather face death itself than be bound to an unloving husband, whom she
would loathe till her bitter end. So she crept on, through the crowd
of bluish shadowed trees that stood as still as statues, with an azure
mist at their feet. Her bare toes made no sound on the mossy carpeted
floor of the forest, and she listened with her keen elfin ears to the
world about her, to make sure no one came in pursuit.
The midnight blue of the trees in the night was of poetic
beauty, the stars piercing the black canopy like crystal freckles on
the faces of the trees. Fell knew the woodlands so well that she could
have closed her eyes and kept running, and her heart would have guided
her in the correct direction. She kept her eyes open now, though, for
she needed every perception available to her so she might recognize danger
if it arose. Camargue's lean and arrogantly handsome face developed in
her mind, and she shuddered at the mere thought of him. She rounded a
bend in the well-beaten path, and to her dismay, she saw a figure,
blackened, beside a tree not ten feet away. Her breath caught in her
throat, and nearly choked. She stopped and waited, not pausing for breath.
The figure advanced towards her, and her heart sagged in sheer dread. Her
hopes of freedom had been stripped, and sadly, she kneeled to the ground,
waiting for her hunter to capture her and lead her back home.
The black figure came forth from beyond the trees, and placed a
cold and weary hand upon Fell's cloaked shoulder. Fell was curious at
the touch, however, for it was not mean or stern; it was friendly and
reassuring. Fell raised her head and looked into the shadowy figure's
eyes, which were darkened and reflected only tiny pinpoints of lights
from the stars. The body of the figure was male, tall and broad-shouldered,
and he took the cloak's hood and pulled it down, exposing a kind and handsome face
Fell knew all too well.
Nearly bursting into fervent happy tears, Fell embraced the smiling
young male with passion. So long it had seemed, she thought, since she had
witnessed her dear Lusitano's face! Lusitano, a poor elf boy, with no love
for war or battle, but for the gentle dream of a farmer's life; he was her
one true and kind lover. She had met him as a child, and quietly their
romance was blossoming as the wild roses do. Fell and Lusitano were as
strangely matched as any contrasting pair; Fell loved adventure, and her
dear Lusitano loved the quieter parts of life. Yet Fell admired him greatly
for his guile and his quiet, romantic nature, and secretly she strived to
become more like him. Thoughts of their lovely summer days in the meadows
and the sunlit dreams of a future life together came swiftly to Fell's mind.
She closed her eyes in peaceful remembrance as she hugged him, and a smile
curled his lips too, as if those same thoughts were dancing across his memory as well.
The shining, beautiful memories disappeared from Lusitano's eyes as he recognized
the dark fear etched across his lover's face. He broke off the embrace and met her
clouded violet eyes, now a coaly black in the dark night.
"Fell, what's wrong?" Her eyes filled up with stinging tears at his words.
"I won't ever leave you!" She cried, not explaining, embracing Lusitano once more, as if seeking shelter from a terrible storm that was approaching. Lusitano looked down at her, her face a shadowy mass due to insufficient light from their quiet position under the dark canopy of trees. His handsome face was confused and somewhat afraid.
"Fell, I don't understand.."
"I have two choices, Lusitano," She whispered quietly. "I either have to marry that villain Camargue," she continued as Lusitano narrowed his eyes at the mention of Camargue's name, "Or I shall escape this place forever, and have my freedom. Tough decision, eh?" She weakly smiled, and she looked over her shoulder at the edge of the valley, that familiar place where she knew she would never walk again.
"I shall go with you, Fell," Lusitano stated plainly with no hesitation, his loyalty and love for her painfully evident. Fell shook her head, her heart heavy. Lusitano was a simple farmer; he would not enjoy the turmoil of a sudden and rash adventure of escape. Yet he would follow her, she knew his love for her was strong enough to risk his very life for her. Silently she thanked him, a tear of gratitude gracing her
smooth cheek, unknown to Lusitano for it was shielded by the shadows.
"Let's away, then," Fell whispered, and gripped his hand, and the two ran together for a time, darting through the stolid trees and whisking around bushes, making but the slightest noise. Fell continually glanced behind her, expecting to see the sinister face of Camargue, his red hair a dark bloody crimson in the shadows, but she was always relieved to see only darkness and the wayward trees standing in the twilight.
The two lovers ran on for what seemed like forever, never uttering a word between them as a safety precaution. Fell could hear only the wind and her heart beating as she fought to keep running. Walking was too slow for escape, and being long-winded, she could run at a somewhat fast pace
for quite a long time. Lusitano was strong as well, his strides quick and enduring, his verdant hair shimmering whenever a brief portion of light touched it through an opening in the heavy forest. Dawn finally approached, opening her arms to expose gentle light to help the two as they fled in a
general eastern direction. Fell knew not where she was going, but she did not care as long as the path took her far away from the clutches of her great enemy.
Lusitano and Fell advanced in this manner for three grudging days, with only the sun as their guide by day and the North Star as their nocturnal guide. The two slept a bit at a time, and ate small herbs and sweet berries they found growing nearby. Lusitano was as good a botanist as he was a farmer, so he warned Fell against the particular herbs she could not eat safely. Fortunately, only a minimal number of poisonous plants existed in this part of the Great Forest, so the two did not have to shed so much worry on this matter of provisions.
"Fell," Lusitano murmured one evening, as the sun dipped into the sky, splashing the sky with red and orange color. They had been resting for about an hour, and each had made a
blunt promise to begin their journey once more as soon as the sun had set. He lovingly gazed
upon her beauty, her long, pale blue locks of hair wisping around her cream-colored face. At
his whisper, her eyes fluttered from watching the painted sunset to form a mutual gaze. She
smiled at him, tilting her head to one side.
"Do you like looking at me?" She flirted casually, wrapping a finger around one shining strand
of hair, and she absently tugged at it, never taking her eyes off of her lover.
"You know the answer to that question," he quietly said as he leaned in to kiss her.
His lips tasted of honey and sweet errant berries, and Fell eagerly kissed him back. She would not come to despair; she had her one love and that was all that really mattered. Yet her heart ached for her would-be husband, for she knew that deep in his heart he had wanted to stay in his own homeland, and it was her sole fault that he could not grasp this childhood dream. She broke off the kiss, sadly, looking up at Lusitano's face, and her mind imprinted that one instant that he sat smiling at her, for it was so beautiful a memory that she could never forget it. His green locks of hair cascaded in heavy streams, his pointed ears protruding in an endearing fashion, his mouth dipping into a brief but eternally sweet smile, the sun shining merrily behind him. His mouth quivered as if he was going to utter something, but something cut off his speech; something dark and bitter which sounded with a twang. Fell gasped, watching as her lover Lusitano, who had been casually kneeling, suddenly collapsed to the ground, a crimson arrow embedded in his back.
"Fell.." He dryly rasped, his mouth covered with dirt and bits of moss. His vision was blurry
and his mind was equally as clouded. Visions of his lover danced slowly before his eyes in silent
syncopation with a deadly beat. His heart thumped slowly, for it was very tired, its energy finally spent;
so with a spasm it retired and all was devastatingly still. His eyes remained locked on Fell, watching her,
seeing her beauty and divine form one final time. Then his peaceful expressive eyes, once beautiful, dulled
into the piercing serene embrace of all-encompassing, bitter death.
His blood stained the moss under Fell's feet and she could do nothing but stare. Her heart told her
it was not tangible but her mind convinced her otherwise. Hot, angry tears blurred her vision, a blessing so
she would not see the crude blood smeared over her lover's once-strong body. She jumped to her feet, away from her lover's corpse, straining her ill sight to locate the archer who delivered her would-be husband's sudden death blow. Nothing but trees standing aloof were returned to her desperate eyes searching for an answer. She wept deep tears that burned her skin, her eyes narrowing in hate. She scanned the forest again, using her superior and keen ears to pay close attention to the sounds the wind carried throughout the forest. The sun bled slowly in the sky, its crimson rays dripping into the clouds as Lusitano's fresh blood seeped into the verdant grass. She listened wisely, violet eyes keen and alert. Her heart was bitter and full of rage, and these attributes made her perceptions ever stronger and more skilled than before.
A stick cracked in the distance. Fell swiftly moved among the trees, rapidly following the sound. There, leaning against an oak tree, seemingly waiting for her, stood the form of Camargue, a bow strapped casually to his back.
"So, I finally found you, Fell," Camargue smirked, eyeing her, evil burning deeply in his dark eyes. "Or perhaps the more appropriate thing to say is, you found me." He chuckled to himself, pulling an arrow from a bag. The dwindling light did not fail; Fell could see that it was the same sort of arrow that now protruded from Lusitano's dead body. She clenched her teeth in dark hatred. Camargue's evil smile deepened. "And as for your dear Lusitano," Camargue continued casually, "He found this." He stroked the black arrow's shaft almost lovingly. He cracked sharply it between his fist, and dropped it to the ground, all the while watching Fell with a superior look on his devastatingly handsome yet evil face.
Fell couldn't stand his mocking any longer. Quietly and assuredly, she rapidly pulled a sharp knife from a strap on her lower right leg, and lunged for Camargue's white neck. Easily, Camargue grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him, his other arm holding the arm that swung wildly with a glinting sharp knife.
"Easy, Fell," He grinned at her. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you had feelings for that poor farmer boy. Believe me, he was incredibly useless. Your one desire should be the epiphany of strength and valiance; in other words, me." His pretty eyes gleamed at her, and he suddenly pulled her head up to his face by means of her hair and rudely kissed her.
"Damn you!" She spat at him as he broke the kiss, and tried to break from his grasp which frustratingly lead to no avail. "Let me GO!" She screamed, fist flying and other hand armed with a dagger sailing through the air at varying speeds. Camargue laughed heartily, and in one swift motion
knocked the knife from her hand, and with despair she saw him kick it from her reach.
"You have no choice now, Fell. You've got to be nice to me. You have no home now, no lover, nowhere to go. I will take you far away and then you will be my loyal little wife.." He whispered the words into her ear, and struggling she attempted to pull away, but his arms were far stronger than hers were. He flopped down on the ground, clumsily, roughly pulling her down with him so that she was heaped on top of him. He held her hands with one of his hands, and began stroking her hair with his free hand. She gagged as he kissed her slender neck and took in her smell. The night was advancing; the sun had completely died away and had left nothing but purple swirls in the sky. Fell twitched and struggled as Camargue tried to kiss her more. Her heart was begging her to find a way to escape, and her mind searched for any available answer. As if as a reply from the powers from above, something graciously glinted silver in the dying light. At her feet was the crushed arrow, seemingly useless but see could plainly see that its tip was still razor-sharp. Camargue was still stroking his hand up and down her body; she could do nothing but fight to keep her stomach as he explored her body. She focused all of her energy on the arrow tip, and she slowly stretched her bare foot to somehow grasp it. Camargue could not see what she was doing, as the darkness had swept them up in an ebony pit of subtle nothingness. She swiped two times with her foot and missed the arrow tip by several irritating inches. She attempted many times to grasp the tip between her toes but it proved to be just a bit too far away.
She almost gave up in a total feeling of loss, but she remembered her last bittersweet memory of her living lover. Lusitano's smiling face came to her mind, and she felt hope leaking back into her heart. She stretched her foot farther than ever before, and she had the tip grasped between her toes. She grinned stealthily, her teeth gleaming in the darkness. Camargue continued to kiss her, his body shaking with hot desire. Fell sighed and gulped down the bile that was fervently rising in her throat, and painfully she kissed him back as to delude him. Camargue was surprised but delighted, and he passionately put more emphasis into his kisses, and for a second let one of her hands free. Camargue's brief but terrible mistake, Fell thought.
One rapid motion in that one split instant was all Fell needed to take the arrow's silver sharp tip and rip it into Camargue's hot white neck. Blood spurted over his body and his eyes were open in absolute terror at the hot fiery pain as the streams of red drooled down over his sagging body. He put his hands up over his neck, futilely trying to stop the flow, and fell over in a pool of blood.
Fell, now thankfully released, dropped the arrow's tip on Camargue's body and fled away, deeper into the woods where it seemed even darker. But it was not as evil, as bloodstained and filled with grief as this place was. She never looked back.
