Esterpine

Jeanine placed her hands on her knees, breathing hard. Each deep breath offered little against her screaming muscles. Stars popped in and out of her vision. Sweat rolled down her forehead. Even in the coolness of the forest it was a struggle.

Feowen insisted on pushing her past her limits until she was all but collapsing. Like now. Then taunted her for it. "By all means, take as long as you need. I've got nothing but time." His arms crossed, but the corner of his lips curved. He never missed an opportunity. After all, his was a superior existence that deserved recognition. She ought to have been annoyed. Instead, she found his reminders amusing.

Except for when she was keeled over, gasping for dear life. Like now. Then it wasn't very funny.

They'd been sparring for nearly two hours. Training to the rigors of Feowen's standards, which were less strict than Lykan, but also more helpful. She still trained with Lykan a few times a week, to keep up appearances. But Feowen offered better tips and feedback. She was learning in a constructive way, rather than merely practicing.

A subtle movement caught her attention. She glanced toward the edge of the clearing. A pair of eyes met hers. "Your sister is watching us," she said, her voice low.

"I know." The slide of metal broke the silence. Feowen sheathed his sword. "She's been there nearly ten minutes."

She stood, brushing away locks of hair sticking to her forehead. "Oh. Well, sorry if I was too busy trying to stay alive to notice."

"Relax. Hello, sweet sister. No need to keep gawking. Might as well join us and say what you've come to say." He glanced at Jeanine, muttering, "Not that we'll make much sense of it anyway." They shared a secret smile.

Taylynn swept from the undergrowth. Her keen gaze pinned on them. "I'm pleased to see you practicing so...diligently." She glanced at Jeanine before looking back at Feowen. "Her training is progressing well, yes? Good. In time, she will come to need it."

Jeanine's brow furrowed.

"In time?" Feowen's head tilted, predatory in nature. "Always the cryptic one, Sister. I'm surprised you even care, given your stance on violence."

"I need not like violence to know when it is necessary. Swords win arguments as well as words." She was met with silence. "Oh, all right. All right. I came to say goodbye."

"You're leaving again?" The tone in Feowen's voice changed, from annoyance to concern.

"I must. You know I must."

"And what is your excuse this time?" He crossed his arms.

"The Stones. Obviously. I must return them."

Feowen's expression clouded over. "Mother gave them back?"

A faint tut escaped Taylynn's lips. "Only after another argument."

"About?"

The princess glanced at Jeanine before saying, "It was as we expected. She refused to hand them over. Even after I reiterated my role." Taylynn screwed up her face, mimicking Queen Jade as she said, "'You cannot expect me to give them to you. How can I trust you won't give them away again?'" A perfect impersonation. Absolutely perfect. Jeanine hid her wicked smile.

Feowen shrugged. "You can hardly blame her."

"Can't I, though?"

"She is bitter over Cyrus. You know how she holds grudges."

"I did what I had to do, Feowen. She knows that. You know that. I know that. We all know that."

"True. But I'm not sure she will ever forgive you for it."

"Probably not. But his claim was valid. What choice did I have?"

"What choice? Even though you knew what would happen if you handed them over?" Feowen arched a knowing eyebrow. "You knew what would happen to Cyrus. To Dragonwall. To all of us." His words were damming.

"What happened was necessary," she snapped. "And we both know why." Her gaze flicked to Jeanine again. "Anyway, I shan't be away too long...not this time."

He studied her. "You mean, I'm not going to have to drag you out of the forest like I usually do?"

"Drag me? I would hardly call it that."

His expression darkened. "And what would you call it? Coaxing? Every time I fetch you, I worry it has finally happened. You go in there"—his eyes flicked towards the undergrowth—"and you come out more forest than Sprite. Every. Damn. Time. Tay. It's going to claim you if you aren't careful. If you let it. Once that happens, I won't be able to save you."

"You worry too much, little brother. I can take care of myself."

"Take care of yourself?! Ha! Don't make me laugh."

Jeanine's frown deepened, trying to make sense of their words. A bead of sweat rolled down her back, tickling her skin, but she dared not move.

"I will return. I promise. And while I am gone, keep our mother in check."

He scowled. "And why would I need to do that?"

"Upon the wind ride the currents of change. I sense it in my bones. So does our King. Before long we shall have a visitor. And everything will change. Everything."

Feowen scowled. "And who might that be? Not King Talon again?"

Taylynn laughed, like a chime caught in a breeze. "Oh no. I do not think he will ever return. Just make sure Mother behaves. You know how she is around those who threaten her."

"That's all you'll give me?"

Taylynn glanced at the undergrowth and inhaled, fully ignoring the question. "I cannot say how long I will be gone, Feowen. Just do as I say." With that, she turned to Jeanine. "You will play a role too. I have seen it. Watch over our guest when she arrives. She will need a friend. Farewell." She strode to the foliage and disappeared from view.

Jeanine closed her mouth. Swallowed. Swallowed again. "Take...take care of...who?" Her brows pulled together. "Why would she ask...?"

"Because she's mental, that's why." Despite what he said, there was fondness in his words. He sighed. "I didn't think it would actually happen."

"What? What would happen?" None of it made any sense! Why was it always like this? Like trying to solve a riddle every time Taylynn spoke. Like the princess wanted to say more but never said enough.

Feowen's eyes shuttered. "I think we'll know soon enough."

"Great. That's it? You too, huh?"

His gaze lingered over her and then he laughed, long and loud. "You look like hell, Jeanine. Absolute hell."

She cursed under her breath, words she'd picked up over the years from Jahl. She framed a cutting reply—

"Come on. I know exactly what we need." He led her away without waiting for an answer.

"Well, fine then!" she muttered, sheathing her sword. "You look like hell," she bit out, making an awful impersonation of him, making him sound far more ridiculous than he actually did. He must have heard. A snicker sounded not far beyond.

She followed after him through the dense foliage until they reached a path. The forest was full of these twisting dirt paths, each leading to a different destination, many leading nowhere at all. She often wondered if their purpose was to trick brave travelers who managed to get near Esterpine.

"Where are we going, exactly?" she called after Feowen. Her exasperation dissolved the farther they walked. He was far enough ahead that she lost sight of him. She refused to increase her pace. Her skin was sticky enough.

They certainly weren't heading back towards the city. Then again, much of the forest looked the same. She could have been somewhere she'd been hundreds of times before without knowing. The tall trees were covered in vines and dense foliage. Flowers scattered across the green tapestry before her like stars smeared across a night sky. Birds welcomed them in passing. Bugs chirruped. A light breeze rustled by, caressing all it touched, including her heated skin.

"Just up ahead," Feowen called over his shoulder, even though they continued to walk for another ten minutes.

The sound of trickling water met her ears. Feowen had stopped. She stepped up beside him. "We are here. Close your eyes. I want it to be a surprise." There was excited impatience in his voice, which intrigued her. "Come on, Jeanine. You'll have to trust me."

"Fine, but this better be good." She squeezed her eyes shut.

She almost gasped when his hand slid into hers. Her body stiffened. If he noticed, he ignored it. Instead, he pulled her forward. "Careful—" He put his other hand on her waist, leading her. "There's a log there—watch it." The sound of water loomed closer.

She let her other senses to take over, listening harder than before, giving in to his gentle, guiding touch. The path beneath her feet softened. She smiled at the feel of moss between her toes. Feowen kept his hands on her, moving her forward.

This close, he smelled like the forest, a mix of flowers, soil, and pine.

Weeks ago, she pondered in excess his attentions toward her. His interest. The increasing amount of time he spent around her. He continued to ask her strange, off-handed questions. To study her as if she were some zoo exhibit. She saw a zoo once, in Lincastle, as a child. All manner of animals and beasts she never thought real. Was that it? She was the human he wasn't used to interacting with? The human he'd seen so little of during his sheltered life in Esterpine? She knew that few of the Sprites left the forest, if ever. And humans almost never came within its reaches.

But there was something else to his attentions. He laughed at the awkward things she said, but never in a mean way. He watched her when she pretended not to notice it. He teased her, but there was never any bite to the words.

She'd grown used to his oddities, at least. Where his sister was cryptic, he was openly curious. Where his sister was soft and flowery, he was rigid and undecorated. Where his sister preferred to hide away, he flaunted himself out in the open. His sister didn't mingle with the people of Esterpine. He did. More and more he seemed the opposite to Taylynn in every way. The two of them struck a stark balance. A curious linking of blood. Yet, the love between them was painfully obvious. And earlier's conversation had only reinforced that.

She wondered what Feowen had meant when he mentioned rescuing Taylynn from the forest. Had there been something within its depths that harmed her? Perhaps she would never know.

"All right. It's here." Feowen released her, though his hand lingered over her waist a second longer than it should have. "Open your eyes."

She did, and her eyes widened. "Oh! It's...wow." She was unprepared. That something this exquisite could exist so close to the city shouldn't have come as a surprise. But it was, entirely. Hours, days, spent wondering the outskirts of the city. "Why have I never found this before?" she asked.

There was a deep pool of crystal-clear water, fed by a small creek that emptied into the pool by way of a small waterfall. It exited at the other side of the pool through a narrow gap in the rocks, trickling away into the undergrowth of the forest. The lyrical sound whispered as it pulled her gaze from one side of the forest to the other. All around was soft moss and flowers, like a carpet for bare feet to trample over.

"Only those who know of its existence may seek it out," Feowen answered. "We have many pools like this, filled with living water."

"Living...water?" She glanced at him.

"Yes. It isn't like the water you are used to. Come, let's enjoy it." Without waiting for an answer, he stripped away his knee-high pants, the only bit of clothing he'd been wearing, and jumped naked, into the pool. His midnight blue hair fanned out around him.

She watched, speechless. He laughed and sent a torrent of water splashing in her direction. "Come on!" he called. "You could use a swim."

She glanced about, considering her options. She could say no, that she had no interest in swimming. She didn't know how to swim. There were no pools of water where she was from and this one was fairly deep at its center. But it was the nakedness that truly left her nervous.

"Uhm." She cleared her throat. "While you might be comfortable in your skin, where I come from, females don't shed their clothes for males but on their wedding night."

"Oh?" His expression turned to one of mock surprise. "Since when have you ever played by the rules?" His eyes darted to the sword at her waist.

"I..." She swallowed, knowing full well he'd snared her.

Feowen was old, very old. That alone was unnerving. A female's body wasn't foreign to him. He'd probably seen numerous beauties among the Sprites, given how open they were, given how little fabric their women wore, leaving all but nothing to the imagination.

But she wasn't a Sprite.

She glanced into the pool again. The water looked so inviting. Another bead of sweat rolled down her back, as if taunting her and proving a point. She needed a refreshing swim.

A small smile came to Feowen's face, as if he could sense the sweat rolling down her skin. "The swim will do you good. So quit being shy, human." The last word hung in the air like a taunt. He said no more, swimming away to the other side of the pool where he disappeared under the waterfall.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her resolve hardened. She was no prude. What did she care? Her body was nothing more than flesh, blood, and bone. And lately a great deal of muscle, honed by hours practicing with Feowen.

The call of the water won.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered at last.

Feowen was still unseen, somewhere beneath the fall, when she shed her clothing. She moved quickly, removing her sword belt and tossing it away, then her tunic and pants. She rushed to get in. Feowen remained unseen. She had just started to lower herself into the pool when a torrent of water splashed over her. She screeched and lost her balance, slipping and toppling into the pool. The cool water rushed up around her as she dropped. It was balm to her aching muscles and sticky skin, washing away her discomfort in an instant.

Her feet found the sandy bottom and she stood, squishing her toes into the sand. The water reached her shoulders. Feowen's wicked face popped up above the water's surface. "You did that on purpose!" she hissed, sending a splash his way.

"Maybe. You humans are so stiff!" He swam away before she could argue. "Come, enjoy the waterfall," he called.

She glanced across the pool. She wasn't eager to attempt swimming, so instead, she edged her way around, keeping to the shallow side, keeping her body submerged. Feowen was right, though. The water felt incredible. Refreshing. Unlike any bath she'd ever taken.

When she reached the waterfall, bliss settled over her. The water cascaded around her, dousing her hair, rushing down her face. She wiped it from her eyes, but let it continue to wash over her.

"The water in the forest is connected," Feowen explained. Behind the waterfall, there was a small indent in the rock wall that made his voice echoey. "Everything flows away from a single source, out into the world like arteries from a heart."

Her brow furrowed. "A single source? Where does it come from?"

"The King Tree, of course."

Like she should have known that!

"Oh..." She frowned. Most of her upbringing was sheltered, but she knew enough about geography to know that most bodies of water needed a true source, like a glacier, or mountains covered in snow. Rain. The forest lay at the center of the continent. Water didn't come from nowhere...did it? "You cannot expect me to believe a tree produces its own water."

"At the base of its roots there is an eternal spring that bubbles up from the depths of the earth, and from this spring flows all water, all life, feeding the world." He dipped lower and took in a mouthful, swallowing. "Here in the forest, its properties are limitless. But once these tributaries leave, they lose their potency."

"Turning into the water that we humans are used to? Normal water?" It was a little hard to believe.

"Exactly." He took another mouthful, but this time sent a stream at her face like a child might. She laughed and fell backwards out of range, splashing a torrent of water in his face before dipping back out into the main pool. He followed.

"So what happens if I drink this water?" she asked. "Will I become a Sprite?"

"I doubt it. Though, I've never heard of a human drinking our water. We don't bring humans into the forest, let alone lead them to our hidden secrets. Perhaps you might be the first." He hesitated. "Go ahead. Give it a try."

She paused, studying him. Was he making a joke? There was no hint of mischief in his face. But he was usually hard to read.

She filled her mouth, letting the cold liquid flow in. It tasted like water—clean and refreshing. But it also tasted like more. She swallowed. The cold traveled down her throat and into her stomach. She could almost track its progress through her body. She waited. Nothing happened.

"How do you feel? Funny in the head? Dizzy? Alive? What?"

"Normal...I suppose?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Your mind doesn't feel addled? Perhaps you should start singing and see what happens."

"Hah! No, thank you. I'll pass."

"Well..." He shrugged, lifting a shoulder out of the water. "It was worth a try."

She watched him swim out into the middle, almost envious. He moved his arms and feet in a paddling motion, staying afloat. If she tried, not only would she look foolish, but she'd sink to the bottom like a rock. The boulders beneath his feet looked quite a way down. She wasn't keen to take her chances.

"Come on. Give it a try," he called, as if reading her mind.

"No thanks," she said, finding a spot shallow enough to sit but remain fairly submerged. A dart of sunlight made its way through a gap in the trees, lighting up the glow that permeated the forest. Turning the air golden. It fell upon her skin, warming her. She smiled, leaning into it, letting her head fall back, aware that her shoulders had lifted out of the water, that her breasts were probably visible. But it was so warm, so welcome.

She became extremely aware of Feowen's gaze on her. She peeled open an eye, catching him in the act, and shrank back down to her shoulders. He looked away and began swimming back and forth across the deeper reaches of the pool, leisurely occupying himself. She studied his body, the markings on his skin, the way they swirled and glowed. His blue hair followed him, fanning out each time he stopped. The infuriating desire to run her fingers through it made her hands twitch. She pushed the desire down and away.

Her face turned red when she caught a glimpse of his nudity as he plunged face first beneath the surface. She turned her gaze to the forest, looking for other things to study. But his movements continued to draw her attention, as if he was doing it purpose. He was, she realized a few moments later.

"Show off," she muttered, certain he'd heard when he snickered.

They remained in the pool for quite a while. He took the opportunity to find new questions to ask: Why didn't humans know how to swim? Why were they all such prudes? How come a woman only showed her body to her husband?

"Our women enjoy displaying their markings openly," he explained.

"Believe me, I'm well aware."

"A Sprite's markings are a display of power," he went on to explain. "It is a part of our identity, who we are, what we are capable of. Our strength. How do your people display such things?"

She considered his question, letting her head fall back again to catch the sunshine. "Through wealth, I suppose. Layers of fabric. Jewelry. Men like carrying well-crafted weapons. Women like flaunting well-made gowns." She turned to look at him.

"Yes, but none of that speaks to a person's abilities."

"True, but what abilities have we to show that might measure up to your judgmental standards? We cannot sing magic into the air. We cannot perform spells." She hesitated. "We can work with our hands, I suppose. Crafters can boast their wares at the marketplace. A musician can perform. But for the most part, it is all hidden. We cannot look upon another and say, 'Oh, she is good at singing flowers into existence. He is good at healing a broken tree root.'"

Feowen snorted. "That was only once. And only because it was one of my favorite trees." She arched an eyebrow. "Besides," he added, "I do not have a marking for it, so how would anyone but you know what I accomplished?"

"Well, you get my point."

"I suppose I do." He swam over, taking a place beside her.

She was highly aware of her nakedness—their nakedness. Heat erupted across her skin, leaving her flushed. She kept her face forward, hoping that he wasn't studying her. The water was perfectly clear. He need only look below the surface to see her puckered breasts.

"It makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?"

She nearly jumped, glancing sidelong at him. "Yes," she said at last.

He snorted. "Humans..."

She opened her mouth—

"You have a beautiful body, you know. So if that's what you're concerned about, you needn't be."

Her mouth snapped shut. That was not what she was concerned about. Hardly at all.

"If I bring you a gown, will you wear it to the autumn moon feast tomorrow night?"

"So I can show off my naked body to everyone else, too?" Her voice was louder than intended. "Bad enough that you have seen it. No, thank you."

He turned to stare out over the pool. "I...perhaps you are right. I simply thought you would look lovely in it, that is all. Never mind. I knew you would say no anyway."

"Wait..." Her chest tightened. Had he gotten a special gown made for her? From what she knew of him, he meant well. His views of propriety were simply too different from hers. Their culture was entirely different. Nothing like hers. But this was her home, for now. Perhaps she could learn to be understanding. Because what was taboo in her homeland, wasn't necessarily that way here in the forest. It would only be weird if she made it weird.

Feowen hesitated, his gaze guarded.

"You really have a gown for me? Even if you knew I would say no?" He shrugged and turned away again, as if it was unimportant. "Will it...will it show my female parts?"

He snorted. "Your breasts, you mean?" His eyes glanced down in obvious appraisal, sending a wave of heat straight to her core. But it was only a glance, and he captured her gaze once more. "No, it's a bit more conservative than most. Because I knew..."

"Oh..."

"But it's fine. I knew you would refuse it. Just thought I'd try anyway. You humans..." He turned away, shutting her out. This time, there was no joking in his tone.

"That's enough, Feowen." Her voice turned deadly quiet. He glanced at her, wide-eyed. "I'm tired of the you humans this and you humans that. I know you think you've got me all figured out. And perhaps to some measure, you do. But enough is enough."

"I—you are right. My apologies." How often did a Sprite prince apologize?

She sighed. "And since you think you've got me all figured out, Prince Feowen, then I will surprise you now by telling you that I am going to wear it, even if to simply prove you wrong about me."

And just to further prove a point, she stood from the pool, naked and dripping, her body displayed for the world to see, and left him to find her clothing. He watched her, openmouthed, eyes trailing up and down her body as she began dressing in front of him. "Oh, and by the way," she snapped, "you left your jaw in the water."

His mouth snapped shut. The grin that followed was enough to steal the breath from her chest. He withdrew from the pool. It took every measure of self control she possessed to keep her gaze on his face and not on the rest of him. Especially the well-endowed parts.

"Interesting," he said, passing by her to collect his single item of clothing.

She tightened her fists. "What?"

"It would seem we were completely and utterly wrong."

"About what?" Gods, his back was covered in muscles that contracted as he slipped into pants. She strapped her sword belt to her waist, using it as an excuse to focus on something other than him.

"The water has addled your mind. We'll make a Sprite of you yet."

A smile rushed to her face; she fought to hide it. The tense air between them dissolved. "Yes, I suppose so," she found herself saying. Why was it so difficult to be annoyed with him?

"After you," he added. He held out his arm. She stepped forward onto the path that had brought them here.

As she moved away, she glanced over her shoulder to find the foliage had already fallen back into place, shielding the pool from view. Something told her that should she want it, she would find it again. The water had been refreshing. Then again, it was Feowen's company that made the experience so singular.

With him behind her, she could only wonder at what he was thinking. About her, perhaps? She hoped that her sudden outburst had thrown him off guard. She hated that he believed her predictable. She almost regretted agreeing to wear the gown, especially without having seen it. But perhaps the look on his face when she donned it would be enough to make it worthwhile. All she could do was wait for the feast tomorrow to find out. 

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