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fairycirclesandhawthornbranches · 7 months

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Hazel found herself staring up at a great tree. She found it difficult to truly see it in its entirety due to the darkness drifting in around her. The boughs stretched so high and wide that they seemed to meld into the night sky up above her - she could see a vast amount of stars overhead. In fact, she swore she even saw small motes of starlight hung among the branches of the tree. Some branches dipped low enough they resembled street lights lining a mossy path to the base of the trunk.

There was a door. Hazel didn’t remember even noticing it or walking to it before it was suddenly in her vision. But, it was there in the base of the tree. Grand in its design, a deep midnight blue, the knots of the trees were made up of shimmering stars. Her hand was reaching for it.

It flew open and she was blinded by a white light - before her eyes even had a moment to adjust a hulking growling shadow began to rise before her. She froze under a piercing red gaze trained on her.

“AWAY!” The shadow barked and snapped out at her. Hazel shrieked and stumbled backwards and felt herself fall into something… Soft and warm…

Warm…?

Hazel grumbled softly as she curled up into herself. I must be back at home… She thought. Everything before now must have just been another vivid dream.

She slid further under the covers and relished in the softness of the furs.

Her eyes snapped open then and she looked down. There she was, bundled up in a strange bed, with a literal animal fur draped over her. She sat up and looked around, trying to figure out where she was, although the room was spinning around her.

Hazel blinked her eyes rapidly and began to push herself up and out of the bed. She stumbled a little and caught herself against a chest of drawers - making the whole thing wobble - she gasped as a mirror began to wiggle and tip over. She snapped out a hand and caught it and was met with her own reflection.

There, staring back at her was the same round and freckled face, rosebud shaped lips with rosy cheeks to match, large blue-green eyes, dark black hair, and the same fuller figure. The dirt and scratches she had looked like they had been cleaned off… But she sighed with relief when it looked like much else was left alone… But she did take note someone thought to bandage her feet and a scratch on her palm.

So, she didn’t get the feeling she was in danger…

She brushed back her hair as she looked in the mirror and gasped when she saw her ears. Pointed! The tips of her ears were pointed! “What… What happened to me..?!”

She closed her eyes, “Think, what happened… Okay - so… I woke up at night… Fell through some kind of portal… Broke my fall…” Hazel glanced back and saw her nightgown was still sporting a tear along her shoulders, definitely snagged a tree branch… “Wandered around that forest… Then found…”

Hazel finally took a proper look around the room she found herself in. It was small and rustic, but exuded an incredible warmth. The furniture was all wood, some of which looked like it was fashioned straight out of thick branches, and all of it was draped in sewn together quilts and knitted woolen blankets. Bushels of lavender and other herbs were hung around the room that gave the room a pleasant and calming scent. A basket was set upon a rocking chair beside the one window, and inside were balls of green yarn that looked like a piece of a tunic was being knitted flat.

Her gaze continued to wander and it landed on a scrap of paper. It was laid on top a folded pile of clothes, a shift, a dress, stockings, and leather boots; all neatly waiting for her to wear them.

“Feel free to change and come out to the rest of the inn for some food and water.” The note read.

So I found an Inn instead of a house! She thought; she could finally have something in her belly, and maybe even get a few answers.

But first she had to change. She pulled off her torn nightgown and set it aside on the chest and began by pulling on the white linen shift, then the loosely fitted woolen dress, then slipped on a pair of blue wool stockings to go on before the boots.

Hazel turned towards the only door leading out of the room and cautiously pushed it open. I don’t think this place is dangerous… She took in a steadying breath and pushed herself forward. The hall leading out of the bedroom was small and the sounds of food hissing and smells of cooking told her it must be leading out to a kitchen. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled with need with food being so close.

There were only two other doors in the hall, one of which was decorated with painted sheep. For a child? She thought.

The end of the hallway had no door, only a patchwork curtain adding a little privacy to the hallway. It didn’t do much to further muffle the distant noises of chatter and laughter.

Hazel crept through the hall and pushed the curtain aside to peer into the kitchen. There were two women at work, one was scrambling eggs in a pan, and the other was brushing melted butter over a dozen lumps of dough. The one preparing the bread glanced to the side and immediately broke into a smile. She dusted her hands of flour on her apron and strode over to Hazel.

She was tall, muscular, and had thick black hair threatening to burst from the bandana she used to tie it back with. She immediately reminded Hazel of a nurturing yet fierce mother bear - with a few scars she had on her face. She held out a hand for Hazel to shake - who did so cautiously at first - but the other’s disarming smile led her to relax a little. “Glad to see you awake!” She released Hazel’s hand and placed her hands on her hips. “Nice to meet you, I’m Ida.”

“Oh! Hazel - Hazel Baker.” Hazel made an awkward chuckle, “Sorry for uh, passing out in your garden.” Ida gave a warm smirk, “Hey, out of any garden you could have possibly passed out in? I’m glad it was mine.”

The other woman was tall and slender, oddly plantlike, but still very much human. She hummed softly to herself as she carried on in her work, seemingly unconcerned with Ida and Hazel for the moment as she scraped eggs from a pan onto many different plates of breakfast. She expertly balanced multiple plates on top of a tray which she balanced in one hand. The other hand carried both a tea pot and coffee pot, gripped by the handles in one delicate fist. She smiled warmly at Hazel as she passed by to leave the kitchen, the first real acknowledgement she gave towards her.

Hazel’s hands went to her rumbling stomach, all that food looked and smelled so delightful, it made her mouth water with wanting. “That’s Rosemary, she’s the one who initially found you. She’s the house spirit here who looks after us and patrons.” Ida explained as she returned to the tray of unbaked breads, which she lifted up and slid into a waiting stone oven. She turned to a bubbling pot and spooned up a soup and sliced a hunk of bread off a crusty loaf of bread. She placed both in Hazel’s hands.

“Go ahead and find a spot to sit and eat. I’ll get my son to find you for a drink - and it’ll be a bit - but I’ll come find you when I’m done with everything.” Ida gently urged Hazel towards the swinging double doors that separated the kitchen.

Hazel looked down at the steaming bowl of soup. It had a thick and creamy broth, with large chunks of carrots, potatoes, onion, and small pieces of bacon. A simple yet hearty potato soup. Don’t drool. “Is there any way I can pay you back? I haven’t any money.”

Ida shook her head, “Think I don’t know that? It’s free sweetheart, if you wanna pay it back, we can talk about you working around here some other time. Go ahead and eat.” She began pushing Hazel gently towards a curtain that separated the kitchen from the dining area.

As Hazel stepped out, Ida leaned out after her. “Dante, could you get her a pitcher of water once she finds a spot to sit?”

There standing behind the bar was a young boy pouring a mead from a tap. He was maybe only around ten years of age, paler than Ida, freckled, blue eyed, and dark black hair pulled back into a ponytail. He shyly regarded Hazel through the bangs hanging in front of his eyes.

Hazel gave him her best warm smile, dimples and all, “Hi Dante. Don’t worry about taking your time with me.”

Dante seemed to relax with most of the tension in his shoulders gently easing as he focused on serving the people already waiting on the bar as Hazel stepped past to find a table.

Hazel looked around the room; it wasn’t terribly packed, but most of the seats closest to the fire were completely full. Hazel did feel a shiver run over her as she neared the windows. It felt like early spring where the cold still would bite even though the green was returning to the plants and animals were emerging from their hibernation.

She settled on a free table farthest from most other patrons that happened to look out at the front garden. She sat down and gazed out the window, smiling at the view of the trees lining the front path. She was certain she saw the beginnings of new leaves on the thin branches swaying on the breeze. Something in the back of her mind told her that they must be apple trees, and that she wondered if this place had apple pies, even if there weren’t she’d still make them. Maybe Ida would let her use some apples for pies and fritters?

But wouldn’t that require staying here until autumn? Shouldn’t I be finding a way home?

“Once you turn eighteen, you’re out of this house.” A memory cropped up into her mind.

For so long she had dreaded her own Birthday. But now it’s over and done with - and she’s still out of that house - she found herself feeling relief that she didn’t have to be around such horrible people…

But where will I live if I have to live here…? I can’t expect the first person I met to be willing to let me live with them.

Hazel looked down at the bowl of soup Ida had given her. She stirred it before raising a bite to her lips. Once it was on her tongue she let out a delighted hum. “So good!” The delightful savory flavor sent a tingle down her spine.

But then that tingle turned into a bone-chilling shiver. Something about the air just suddenly felt wrong and the taste in her mouth briefly went sour as an odd scent hit her nose. Ugh! What is that? She sniffed the air and turned around looking for the source and saw him.

A man, tall and lithe, pale skin, and even paler hair was weaving through tables towards the bar. He was dressed for the wilds, hair only partially tied back to keep it from his face, with the rest cascading down over his shoulders and back. Hazel’s eyes widened when she noticed his ears were pointed much like hers. He certainly looked inhuman - only his smell was really the thing that was putting her off - it wasn’t a scent like she had ever encountered before. It wasn’t body odor, that was for sure, nor did it seem to be a cologne. Maybe it was more just of a gut feeling… As he passed by her she was certain she caught a whiff of grasses and herbs - something pleasant!

As he sat and turned to lean against the bar she finally saw him in profile. He had a wonderful body… Much was left to the imagination due to the cold weather, but this man wore tight fitting leather trousers and boots that hugged his calves. Hazel’s eyes wandered upwards to study his face. There; instead of a handsome visage she had been expecting was a dark and foreboding mask. It was some mix of a wolf and a boar caught in a permanent snarl, carved out of a dark black wood. White lines outlined the mouth, teeth, nose, and eyes. Two horns peeked through locks of his hair draping around it, both carved wood of the mask. As Hazel’s eyes trailed down from the horns to the rest of the mask she realized two red eyes were staring back at her. They were narrowed.

“Eep!” Hazel squeaked and turned away from the masked man, having locked eyes with him as she was staring.

Hazel didn’t much like being stared at by people due to her weight… Here I am staring at other people. He’s not weird or scary Hazel! He’s just really hot… Er - wait - He’s just different! That doesn’t make it okay to ogle him. She mentally scolded herself. Though she couldn’t help but feel like his gaze was still searing into her side as her cheeks and ears heated up in embarrassment.

“E-Excuse me, ma’am. Here’s your water.” A small voice said as a pitcher of water and glass were gently scooted into her vision.

“Oh!” Hazel sat herself upright and took the glass for a sip of water. “Th-Thank you Dante!”

Dante smiled then and glanced to the empty chair opposite of Hazel, “Can I sit?”

“Go ahead, I don’t mind.” Hazel pulled her bowl of soup closer and took a few more bites from it. She couldn’t let it go cold and seem ungrateful for it.

“Momma and Rosemary say they found you in the garden.” Dante began.

“That’s the last thing I remember.”

“Where’d you come from before that?”

Hazel paused and let her spoon hover before her open mouth as she thought of how to respond. Was magic and portals common here?

“Erm, well, I had been walking through that forest for a few days.” She finally took a bite of soup.

Dante gasped and looked a little horrified. “Really? Momma told me getting lost in there meant you might not ever want to leave!”

“Wha- Really?” Hazel shivered.

“Uhuh! She says if you go too far and meet faeries you’ll never want to leave their company. You didn’t run into faeries did you?” Dante leaned forward so far he propped himself up on his knees rather than sitting. “Unless you're an elf?” Dante pointed to one of his own ears, which were human and round. “Elves don’t really have that problem.”

Hazel felt her ears then. Still definitely pointy like the masked man sitting just a few feet away. “I guess I must be.”

“You mean you don’t remember?” Dante’s head tilted and face screwed up in confusion.

“Er… No…? Yes? Maybe?” Hazel stammered out.

Dante flopped back into his chair, thinking really hard it seemed. “Did you hit your head?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Yeah, I guess if you did momma would’ve mentioned healing you.” Dante nodded with certainty.

“Healing? Like - magic?”

“Yeah.” Dante lowered his voice, “Don’t tell. She likes it to be a secret.” Hazel blinked and nodded slowly. Though she slowly leaned back herself in disbelief. So magic IS a thing here! Hazel began feeling like her dreams were literally coming true.

“So if you didn’t hurt your head, why don’t you remember?”

“I do remember! It’s just that I don’t think I’m from here, like, at all.” Hazel waved her hands in a circle, “There was this portal in my bedroom -” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice as she realized she saw a few glances from other patrons. She saw those red eyes trained on her again.

“Did you remember a ring of mushrooms, ma’am? Usually that’s like a gateway to the Fey Realm.”

Hazel thought back to when she first landed… It was dark… But she was very certain she did remember stumbling through a large spiraling ring of many mushrooms. “I… Think so?”

Dante gasped and jumped up from his chair and began running for the kitchen - before he froze, “Wait, what’s your name ma’am?” “Hazel?” She paused, “Where are you going?” “To talk to mom! See you Miss Hazel!” Dante scurried off into the kitchen.

Hazel groaned softly as thoughts buzzed through her mind, a headache was starting to build behind her eyes. She returned to eating her soup and sipping her water. She was pretty sure being dehydrated and hungry wasn’t going to help her head much. So I came through a gate to the Fey Realm… That kind of answers a little bit of the how…?

She sighed and gazed out the window as she slowly ate her food and drank up the pitcher of water. She decided that she would get her answers, sooner or later. It didn’t have to be all at once.

She smiled a little seeing the Spring scene before her, plants all swaying in the breeze, blue skies with fluffy clouds floating past. It was a stark contrast to the plain manicured lawns and sad looking buildings, trees, and bushes. Home had been suffocating.

But this… She thought, Is a breath of fresh air.

#ida #rosemary #hazel #darion #dante #fiction #creative writing #short story

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fairycirclesandhawthornbranches · 8 months

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Shepherd's Crook: I

It was late at night and all the world was at rest. Outside the tavern was a velvet cloak wrapping itself over the land in its serene vastness. Aside from the warm glow of the tavern, there was no other lights around to obscure the moonlight, and the stars twinkled brilliantly above.

The tavern was a humble structure of stone and thatch. Each of the windows and doors were carved from oak. The most striking parts of the Tavern was the lush garden wrapping around the building with all kinds of herbs and vegetables - and even a few finely fruited apple trees hung over the pathways leading to the main road. The front door was illuminated by a pair of lanterns to guide weary patrons to the doors even in darkness, and to fit in the theme of the Tavern’s namesake, the lanterns hung off of Shepherd’s Crooks carved into the door’s frame. The front was a beautiful set of heavy oaken doors, with fine brass handles, and the scene of sheep and shepherd relaxing in their field was carved into the door itself.

Behind the Tavern and its garden was a small barn that let out into a large pen - where during the day the Tavernkeep’s Son would watch over the sheep that originally gave the place its name. Even at this time of night one could hear the occasional baa-ing from inside the barn.

Most of the upstairs windows were dim now that the sun has set beyond the horizon - the patrons inhabiting the rooms were tucked into the beds.

Light escaped through one open door, propped open by a stuffed duck, one that could be mistaken for a real one if not for the faded floral patterns of its fabric. It was a well worn little doorstop - often patched and stitched with whatever Ida - the proprietress of the Crook - had on hand to mend the little fellow. Most of the damage would come from angered drunken patrons getting kicked out for trying to start a fight or arguing over their bill.

This would be an annoyance for some - but she found herself amused whenever someone would actually break their toes trying to kick the doorstop out of anger. The regulars that would stop by on their travels to and from the Forest and the nearest Town knew that she had sewn a brick or two into the belly of the faux fowl - just so it would look nicer propping the door open on hot days - but she always made a note never to warn someone causing her business trouble. She even had a small wooden board hanging near the front door, solely for carving a tally every time some lout injured themselves in their tantrums. It was nearing twenty as of this night.

Ida let out a soft, almost glum, sigh as the Grandfather clock struck twelve. She was staring at the wooden tally board with a still annoyed expression. “I was so sure that scrawny fella’ was going to kick it.” “Difficult to kick it when you’ve got him in a headlock.” Her companion across from her remarked with a cool and even tone of voice.

Ida turned her gaze from the tally board to a tall and lithe elven man dressed in simple and rugged hunting attire. His figure was handsome, his hair long and white with strands braided back to keep from his face, which would make sense if he hadn’t been wearing a mask. She has never once seen him without it through the few months she has known him now, not to eat or drink, which left her curious. But Ida was a lady who had her own sorts of secrets she wouldn’t want people to pry into - so she never asked. She just accepted he had a reason and it was all his own. As his red gaze met her own, she spoke again. “True. I guess throwing him face first into the dirt out front is payback enough for barking at Dante the way he did.”

Ida turned and spooned up a plate of Shepherd’s pie and slid it to him - and placed a room key beside it. “Here, Darion. This is for calming Dante down after that. He mentioned you checked on him while I was chewing that bugger out.” Darion stopped himself as his initial reaction was to protest he hadn’t asked or paid for either - but he knew better than to reject a gift. So he just plucked up the room key and the plate and offered a bow of the head. “Dante is a good young boy. I saw that it wasn’t his fault for that man spilling his drink, as he was just walking by when that man suddenly turned around without looking.”

Ida glanced at the plate in Darion’s hand, “No intention of eating down here again.” She thought before brushing it aside. She decided it was no offense and had no reason to mind it. “Bring the plate downstairs when you’re done eating. It’ll get taken care of.” Ida plucked her bottle of cream and poured a little into the glass to set above the fireplace.

The Huntsman gave a nod and retreated upstairs to his room. The Tavernkeep turned towards the last of the dishes in the basin and began to wash them all out and set them aside on racks to dry. As she set the last tankard aside to dry the window before her shuddered and was thrown open by a gust of wind.

There was a beautiful creature leaning on the sill who was staring intensely at Ida. She vaguely resembled an Elf, but had much more plantlike features.Her skin was pale and just a touch too pink to look human, her hair was a soft purple like the flowers of a Rosemary bush, and her eyebrows were long and antennae-like - and they were currently furrowed in concern. It was Rosemary, the one that watched over the Tavern, and it looked like she really needed Ida’s attention. “A girl. Collapsed in the garden.” She spoke softly.

Ida tossed down her dishcloth into the sudsy water and quickly ran out the garden door towards the spot Rosemary had drifted to. At her feet was a youthful girl, maybe only around eighteen, unconscious on the ground. The state of her made it clear she had been wandering for days. Her nightgown was dirtied and tattered, feet covered in dirt and had blisters, and her lips looked dry from a lack of water. “Poor dear - lets get her inside and cleaned up.” Ida knelt down and lifted her up into her arms and made for inside.

Rosemary trotted ahead of them and opened the door for the two to enter and locked it behind them. She rushed to the bath to get warm water started - which was not a problem with a little magic she did possess. “Not too much water, just enough clean so we can just use a cloth. I’d rather spare the poor girl a full drenching when she’s not doing well.” Ida said softly as she set the girl to sit leaning against the bathtub.

Rosemary nodded and fetched a clean cloth from the cupboard and helped Ida carefully clean out any bloodied blisters so they could be bandaged. When Ida brushed aside the girl's hair so her face could get a gentle dabbing - she paused as she saw pointed ears. “Elf?” The Spirit leaned in closer to the girl and stared for a moment - before she shook her head and gave a gentle shrug. "Smells of humans." She whispered. “Well, she sure isn’t human.” Ida remarked. She glanced down and took notice of a great tear in the back of the nightgown she wore, the tears were around the middle of her back.. Her brows knit together, “Poor girl… But no signs of blood. Think she could have been kidnapped?” Rosemary just shook her head gently and gave a shrug as she finished up the last of her bandaging. “I hope not.” She said softly. Ida let out a soft sigh. “We’ll try talking to her when she wakes. Could you please find a change of clothes for her? I think there’s a dress that should fit her.” She spoke as she once again lifted the girl. The Spirit gave a nod and drained the bath before she left the room to go looking while Ida took her to her own bedroom to tuck into a bed. Ida looked over the girl one last time before blowing out the candles and closing the door. It was time for sleep. Questions and answers could come with the sunrise.

#ida #rosemary #darion #hazel #fiction #short story #creative writing

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