by Kree8Tion

©copyright 2001

Arlo sat reading the message sent by the Centurion. He shook his head in amazement and read it all again.

"He wants her to attend? After what she did? He must be a strange mortal indeed."

Laying the message down, he signaled to one of his squires.

"Fetch me Arwen."

"Yes Master."

Arlo stood and began to pace unsure if he really wanted Arwen to attend. He would have to find a suitable escort for her. But who in their sane mind would want to deal with one as fiery as she? Arlo paced back and forth. There would have to be plans made. She would need a new wardrobe. Although his powers would allow her to be there in an instant, he had banned her from using any of her powers after her last visit to the castle. Arlo had watched amazed and angered by his only daughter and brought her home in a moment of time shorter than she could stomp her dainty foot.

Arlo smiled. She was his only daughter and he felt that perhaps this Cotillion might afford a chance to find a suitable husband for her. Arlo stopped pacing at that. Arlo realized he’d just found his daughter’s escort.

“Santuro? Santuro! Where in Merlin’s blazes are you?”

The short man came running into the large hall.

“Here Master. There is NO need to shout Sir.”

“Harrumph! Yes. Well. Prepare yourself. You and I will be escorting my daughter to the Castle in one month’s time.”

“Arwen? To the Castle? Are … are you certain?”

Arlo moved closer to the short man and glared down at him.

“Must I use magic to give you larger ears Santuro? Perhaps those of a donkey would be more appropriate?”

“No Master.” Santuro sighed and began to walk away.

“Oh. And Santuro.”

“Yes?”

“We will be traveling as mortals do. Make preparations.”

“Mortals? But Master …”

“Silence! Arwen has been banned from using her magical powers as you well know. Perhaps making you into a donkey is a grand idea after all. YOU could carry my daughter!”

“THAT will be quite unnecessary, I assure you!” Santuro turned on his heels and left the grand hall in a huff.

Arlo smiled. He shouldn’t treat Santuro as an equal sometimes but he was the nearest one to his heart after his daughter. Speaking of his daughter. Where in Merlin’s world was she?

Arlo smiled. He shouldn’t treat Santuro as an equal sometimes but he was the nearest one to his heart after his daughter. Speaking of his daughter. Where in Merlin’s world was she?

Arwen walked into the grand hall silently. She knew her father was still angry with her and she followed the squire wondering what could be so important that he almost dragged her out of her room.

Arlo turned towards the sound and a smile lit his face as it always does when his eyes rested upon his daughter. So much like her mortal mother that Arlo’s heart always skipped a beat with memories.

“Ah. Arwen. Come daughter. Come sit with me and we’ll talk.”

“Yes Father.” Arwen sat beside her father and stared into the huge fireplace. She would wait until he was ready.

“I have received a missive from the Castle Arwen.” Arlo watched his daughter’s face. He saw her excitement and watched as it suddenly changed to sadness.

Arwen’s heart pounded. The Castle! Oh how she missed the castle. I had been exciting and … and … Arwen frowned. Who would be writing to her Father? Who was displeased with her NOW?

Arwen sat and didn’t want to answer him. If she was once more to learn she had angered someone, she would wait. Bad news was always better if you prolonged the hearing for as long as possible.

“It seems Arwen, there is to be a Cotillion held in little more than one month’s time. The Ghost has written you an invitation, although only Merlin knows why.” Arlo rubbed his forehead in confusion. As much as this would certainly be a good time to search for a suitable match for Arwen, he was still baffled at the Ghost including Arwen.

“Me? The Ghost invited me? Are … you certain Father? We didn’t receive one in error?” Arwen’s heart pounded so loud, she was certain her Father could hear the excitement. Oh she did miss the Castle. The lords and ladies, all dressed in finery, swaying to music and … and …

“Yes Arwen. I am quite certain. It truly is addressed to you. There are however, certain requirements in your attendance Daughter.”

Arwen slumped in her seat. She knew it. Boundaries. There were always boundaries.

Santuro came gliding into the grand hall just as Arwen was slinking down in her chair.

“Master! The arrangements have begun. I daresay I still don’t see why we must travel as mortals.” Santuro fanned his face with his hand as if acting as mortals was more than his comprehension could bear.

“Silence Santuro! I have not finished speaking with my daughter. Need I remind you that you need not travel as a mortal but as a donkey instead?”

Santuro sighed. “No Master.” He knew that Arlo was only threatening but Arlo’s eyes were dark. Santuro stared at Arlo in silence and wondered if in fact Arlo would turn him into a donkey just to still his mouth. Santuro sat away from Arlo and Arwen as if he was not safely out of reach from the elder’s magic. He did, however, continue to fan his face in defiance.

“Father? Does this mean we are accepting the invitation? Does this mean we are attending the Cotillion? At the Castle? Father? Are we?”

“Yes. Arwen. I will send a boy with a written acceptance. We will first discuss the guidelines Arwen. Fail me and my wrath will be swift.”

“Oh yes Father. Yes!” Arwen jumped up from her seat and ran to her Father, hugging his neck tightly and kissing his face. “Yes Father.”

“Yes,” Santuro grumbled from the other side of the room quietly. “Or you will be turned into a donkey too.” Santuro mimicked his Master’s words and felt safe the elder had not heard him.

“No Santuro. I reserve that pleasure only for you.” Arlo hugged his daughter in return, delighted in her happiness. She had sulked ever since he pulled her from the castle. Arlo glanced over Arwen’s head and was content to see Santuro stiffen in realization that his words had been heard.

Arlo let go of Arwen and bade her sit before him. When she had settled herself he looked upon his daughter and smiled.

“Now then Arwen. There are certain rules that you must agree to before we finalize your acceptance. The first is that there must be an escort. I will attend with you. It is only right. No young lady should travel unescorted. It is far too dangerous.”

Arwen cringed at her Father’s words. She knew he remembered her leaving the safety of their home without his permission when she first visited the castle.

“Yes Father. I understand.”

“Very well. As you are now aware we shall travel as mortals do. You are banned from using your magic Arwen. Do not fail me in this. You shall behave as mortals behave.”

“We must travel as mortals Father?” Arwen considered this for a moment. This could prove to be an adventure like she’d never known. Not once had her Father allowed her to travel as a mortal on land. “All right Father. No magic.”

“Good. Now. We must prepare a wardrobe for you and the travel preparations have yet to be completed.” Arlo took a moment to glance at Santuro. “This will be finished soon and I expect to leave within one week’s time. It will take us close to a fortnight to reach the Castle so we must act in haste.”

Arlo stood and offered his hand to his daughter. He smiled once more as she stood and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“This will be a wonderful and entertaining dance my little one. But be warned, I expect exemplary behavior or by Merlin’s sword, you shall feel my anger!”

Arwen shivered at her Father’s words.

“Yes I know Father. You’ll see. You’ll be proud of me. When will the dress makers arrive?”

“Soon child. By tomorrow the latest. That is if our … harrumph … donkey has made the arrangements.”

Santuro shuffled near the man and his daughter, making sure they both heard his presence with the stamping of his feet.

“Harrumph yourself Master.” Santuro expressed his indignation. “Of course I have called the dressmaker. Don’t I always deal with everything here? I must be in control of everything in Merlin’s world. Santuro do this. Santuro do that.”

Arlo smiled as the short man grumbled his way out of the room.

“I dare say daughter, that the dress maker shall just now be summoned.”

Arwen giggled and listened to Santuro’s voice as he noisily made his way down the hall. Already she had visions of the wonderful adventure waiting for her. Traveling as mortals do. It was an image Arwen couldn’t place in her head.

“Go Arwen. Make your companions aware and have them prepare for travel. We have but one week’s time.”

“Yes Father.” Arwen turned to leave but walked back to hug her Father. “Thank you Father.” Arwen kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Arlo grinned as Arwen practically floated out of the grand room. He sat back into his seat and again rubbed his forehead with his hands. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and spoke to his wife although she had left this world many years before.

“I do believe, Dearest, there will be time to tell her of my search for a husband for her after we are on the roads to the Castle.” Arlo could almost hear his wife’s sigh and he knew she wouldn’t have agreed.

“She’ll not like that Master.” Santuro’s voice traveled as he walked past the grand entrance.

Arlo was startled then became angry that not only was Santuro pretending to do his Master’s bidding, but he was eavesdropping as well.

“SANTURO!”

The days passed and Arwen became more and more excited over the Cotillion. She had visions of the grand night that was to come and oftentimes could be found dancing with a broomstick in her hands.

“Arwen love,” Lady Fay sighed as she watched Arwen dance around the bedchamber yet once more. “I daresay the maids will be fair disappointed when they search for their broom only to find you’ve worn it to a mere sliver of wood for a dancing partner.”

“Oh Lady Fay, but it does make for such a handsome partner, don’t you agree?” Arwen twirled along the floor and when she stopped, she fluttered her eyelashes at her wooden dancing escort.

“Oh Sir! I do believe you are simply toying with me. No one is truly as lovely as a rose.” Arwen lowered her eyes in a dainty blush.

Lady Fay rolled her eyes and walked towards Arwen’s bed.

“Arwen love, if you do not choose from these fabrics soon, your Father will toy with you and choose wool as your garment!”

Arwen pouted as she placed her handsome wooden knight in the corner. She blew the broom a kiss before turning towards the bed.

“You Lady Fay, have no imagination. It’s a wonder your parents had the humor to name you after the wee folk! Is that what ails you Lady Fay? They left no humor for you?”

Lady Fay turned an eye towards Arwen in anger. Arwen knew the origin of her name would always be unknown but she knew what people thought. But as she looked upon the one she felt was as near as a sister, her brows softened. Lady Fay chose to ignore Arwen’s comments and continue with her duties.

“Should my Arwen love fail to finally choose from these fabrics, the wool she will wear to the Cotillion scratching against her dainty bottom will be humorous enough for me.”

“All right Lady Fay. You do speak the truth. Father will choose for me if I fail to. But they are all so wonderful! I think these for traveling …” Arwen placed two bolts of fabric off to one side of the bed. “Oh Lady Fay. These for entertaining once we arrive at the Castle? Oh yes indeed!” Arwen raised one bolt of fabric and held one end high covering her bodice. Once more she began dancing about the room.

“Arwen love. The Cotillion? Which will you wear for the dance? I’m losing patience with you as I’m certain your Father is as well. It will be his hand bringing you back to earth Arwen.”

Arwen felt her shoulders sink low. Lady Fay was right. The one trait her Father had learned from mortals is the task of putting wrong to right by means of hand meets bottom. Arwen pouted knowing it was always her bottom that felt the wronged.

“Oh stop your fretting. Father has not done that since I was but a child.”

“Oh? And does my Arwen believe that was so long ago that cobwebs have clouded her memory?”

Arwen’s eyebrows came together as she pouted.

“No. Not so long ago as that. But long enough! I am much to old to take to task. I am a woman now!”

“Then please do me the honor of acting like one and making a choice so we may all go to bed?”

Arwen grinned and performed an exaggerated curtsy for her attendant. She did love her so and loved to tease her.

“Oh yes My Lady Fay. Yes.” Arwen walked back to the bed and as she moved the fabrics aside, her eyes rested on the most delicate shade of yellow she’d ever seen. Her fingers ran over the fabric and as they did, they felt the raised embroidery pattern of small moons and stars.

“Lady Fay! This! This is the one! This is the dress I shall wear for the Cotillion! Look!”

Arwen lifted the fabric and fairly pulled it off the bed in her excitement.

“Do you see? The moons and stars are almost hidden but there if you look closely enough. Oh yes! This shall be my dress!”

“Well thank Merlin’s stars!” Lady Fay raised her hands in the air. “NOW we shall all be able to sleep!” Lady Fay opened the bedchamber door. She leaned out into the hallway. “Maid! Fetch the seamstress at once. Her Royal Wooden Dancing Partner has chosen!”

Arwen giggled at Lady Fay’s choice of her new title.

“Yes, My Lady,” Arwen performed one of her dramatic curtsies again. “And it is mere jealousy that guides your words!” Arwen smiled at the woman not much older than herself. “Mayhaps we shall find a wooden partner for you as well?”

Lady Fay blushed for what Arwen believed might have been the first time in her life.

“Off with you my love. Off to change for bed. It is well past the midnight hour and you know that the witches are about now. Off with you before I conjure them to whisk you off to some far mountain where no Cotillion will be held!”

Santuro angrily swatted yet another stinging insect on his neck and gave his Master a look that should have cringed anyone, mortal or not. He turned angrily in his seat and stuck his head out of the window to watch the caravan move slowly behind him when he realized Arlo had no intention of acknowledging his discomfort.

"Tis a wonder mortals live as long as they do. Under THESE circumstances, even the fairies would faint!" Santuro knew better than to goad Arlo and chose instead to speak aloud to no one in particular.

Arlo grinned, thoroughly enjoying Santuro's discomfort every bit as much as he was enjoying his daughter's pleasure. He sat in the carriage beside Santuro and once more, wondered what his long gone wife would think of these events. His mind was brought back to the present as one more slap resounded through the carriage.

"No Santuro. The wonder is that they've chosen you for their meal. Perhaps they sense that you are on the verge of displaying long furry ears?"

"Harrumph!" Santuro made his indignation known at Arlo's reference to his threat of turning him into a donkey. He actually considered the possibility as an option for no longer being a target for the insects but slumped back in his seat when he realized it would simply give them more territory to conquer.

"Arwen is denied use of her powers and as a result, I am suffering. And why is it I wonder, these insects have chosen to ignore my Master and have instead, turned their attention towards me? I am no mortal!"

Arlo's deep laughter rang through the carriage and he quieted only when he heard yet another "harrumph" from the short man beside him.

"Be patient Santuro," Arlo said while still smiling. "You will see. The future is the goal, not the present."

"Yes Master." Santuro sat in his seat and stared out the window. "It is beyond me why we must however, take the mortal way to arrive at the future." The last words were once more mumbled, Santuro certain Arlo hadn't heard.

"Santuro! Donkey!"

Santuro cringed as Arlo made his message clear. He crossed his arms and chose to fume silently.

The caravan moved slowly as it wound its way through the forest and in the carriage behind that of Arlo, Lady Fay sat beside a fidgeting Arwen. Santuro's grumbling could be heard for miles and Arwen ignored him as she gazed out the carriage window. Her mind was filled with images that even Santuro's complaining couldn't take away from her. As she watched the terrain slowly pass by, she wondered yet again what the Cotillion would hold for her. She gazed out of the window and pouted as the question of doubt once more crossed her mind.

"Lady Fay," Arwen's sigh spoke of her uncertainty that seemed to creep up on her at the most inopportune moments. "What shall I do if no one asks me for a dance?" Lady Fay smiled as she pat Arwen's knee.

"Oh my Arwen. How could they not ask you? You will see. I daresay you'll be exhausted from your dancing before the evening is half gone." Arwen turned to Lady Fay, disbelief clear on her face.

"All I can answer is that I should have stored my wooden knight with me." Arwen turned towards the window before Lady Fay could answer. Lady Fay rearranged Arwen's skirt and made the pretense of righting the interior of the carriage before answering.

"I have taken the initiative to have it stored with the trunks. I could not bear to see my Arwen rest her head upon the earth without her knight nearby to protect her. "Arwen laughed at that and turned to hug Lady Fay.

"Ah my fair Lady Fay. I am glad. I would need something to use should my magic need to be performed. I'll not bear the embarrassment of attending the walls of the great hall while I watch others glide across the floor." Lady Fay turned to Arwen in fear.

"You shall NOT under any circumstances use your powers Arwen. Your Father would not be pleased and I believe you underestimate his seriousness in this. The consequences would be swift and severe!" Arwen turned and now pat Lady Fay's knee in an attempt to comfort her.

"Fear not my good friend. I understand completely. My powers will remain hidden."

Arwen sat back in her seat. She'd given her word to her Father that she would use no powers during this adventure. She'd not had want to use them up to this point. She did, however, continue to practice during those few times when she was alone. One never knows when a spell or two may be needed.

The caravan slowed and came to a full stop. Arwen waited for the door to be opened for her and took the hand of the servant waiting to help her out of the carriage. She climbed down and straightened the folds of her skirt as she gazed around in wonder. The forest was filled with foliage Arwen had never before seen and her eyes drank in the sights hungrily.

"Do not stray from the caravan Arwen. These are unknown lands and only Merlin knows what lies beyond the horizon." Arlo approached Arwen as he spoke.

"No Father. I won't stray far, but I fear if I do not exercise my legs, they'll be of no use to me when we reach the Castle." Arwen stood on tiptoe to kiss her Father's forehead then turned to walk a little ways away from the bustle of the maids and servants preparing to camp for the night.

"Arwen. One moment and I will walk with you." Lady Fay carried the items she and Arwen would be needing once darkness fell.

"There is no need Lady Fay. I will not travel far." Arwen kissed Lady Fay's cheek before turning to walk away. There were simply times when Arwen needed the company of no one and in her present restlessness between fear of dancing alone and excitement of the Cotillion, Arwen knew she needed only her thoughts as her companion.

Arwen walked until she found herself in a tiny cove near the river. She found a rock and sat down, gazing at the water as it flowed near her feet. Her mind whirled in the possibilities the future held and in her heart, she was still uncertain of her arrival at the Castle. Her only hope was that none would remember the lad in the tavern.

Arwen bent to pick up pebbles from the ground and sat contemplating while tossing them into the slowly churning water. Her eyes fell upon a flower she'd never seen before and she stood and walked towards it. Squatting, she reached her fingers forward to touch the flower and smiled at the smoothness of its surface. She broke the stem off and stood, inhaling the perfume of the strange flower, deciding she would bring it with her on her journey.

Arwen frowned as she remembered she'd brought no bag with her other than her magic pouch she'd secretly attached to her undergarments. She turned her head first this way then the opposite and made sure no eyes were watching. Slowly, she lifted her skirt high to her waist and attempted to untie the pouch secured there. Arwen almost stamped her foot in frustration. It took both hands to tie the pouch and one hand was now occupied with tenderly holding the strange flower.

Arwen struggled and realized she needed to raise her skirt higher still. With her skirt practically wrapped around her waist, she succeeded only in releasing one of the ribbons that bound the pouch to her. She worked feverishly in her attempt to free the pouch and only became more frustrated as she turned in a circle where she stood, trying to reach further with her fingers.

"And what heavens I wonder, have chosen to present me with such a sight as this before my eyes?"

Arwen whirled towards the deep voice. She'd not expected anyone to be near and the voice could only be that of someone spying on her. Her anger grew as she stared at the man. He leaned against the large tree with a grin on his face, apparently amused at Arwen's predicament.

"I see my Lady is in distress," the man commented. He pushed his shoulder off the tree and slowly began to walk towards Arwen. He paused only to make an exaggerated bow which sent his scathed sword upwards in the air as he bent low, his arm making a large arc until his hand rested upon his chest. He stood and continued to walk slowly towards Arwen. "Perhaps my Lady could use some assistance in ... err ... her search?"

Arwen could only stare at the stranger. Her anger grew at his intrusion and had she used any of the now whirling mind the heavens had seen to give her at birth, she would at least have had the sense to lower her skirt as he approached.

HERE