La Nocturne

The forest unwound itself in bright, nebulous swatches beyond the glass of the coach, and Elaine felt her eyelids drooping. The exceedingly strange and momentous events of the day were tiring her already, and it was still only mid-morning. Reyrie chittered quietly into Bramble’s ear, who was half attentive and half distant, and Benjy was slumped in his seat gazing vacuously up through the ceiling of the coach.

Elaine sighed. Somehow she’d been pulled into this most improbable of places, and somehow she’d have to learn to live here…But all she wanted to do was sleep…

The world came back with a jolt. Elaine looked up, surprised and drowsy. A gilt-leafed footman was opening the delicate doors of the carriage, and no one seemed to mind that she’d been napping. Before them was an enormous oak with brilliant gold-plated bark. The passengers disembarked and Elaine was led to a wooden door on which was painted a mesmerizing swirl of flowers and eyes and wings, at the tree’s base. Inside the great oak, a crystal staircase spiraled singingly up into the hidden height of the tree. When she stepped onto the stair, it rang out with a clear, glassy note. Each subsequent step was a different note, and the overall effect of the group going up the stairs was that of a fantastic windchime playing a rough, echoing scale. In the wall were fixed ornate branched holders in which candles flickered and refracted the crystal into quivering rainbows on the tree’s interior and the faces of those within. From a distant point overheard, the sun shone through.

At least they emerged onto a velvet-carpeted wooden platform, over which the myriad boughs of the oak arced and spread gracefully. Into the sides of the branches were carved many more stairs, additionally laid over with plush carpet. All among the boughs, high over Elaine’s head, were lavish rooms encased in wooden boxes, like school displays.

“Bramble, you’ll be a dear and escort the new human to her room. I shall retire to mine,” the Queen announced.

The faun smiled as he touched Elaine’s elbow with two fingertips. “Come on.” Benjy was left at the platform, sitting with his legs spread out; no one seemed to notice or mind him much.

As Elaine and Bramble ascended, the stairways became narrower and more treacherous, but through some charm, she was able to keep her balance. Between branches were precarious wooden bridges, made for greater ease of travel from room to room. After a great deal of skinny bridges and rough steps, Bramble stopped at a small, plain, undecorated box.

“It isn’t much,” he apologized. “But I hope you will find it is comfortable in its own way.”

On the floor of the room was a wooden frame filled with feathers, sewn over with a cloth, a blanket on top. In the corner sat a segment of a tree stump – a chair. It doubled as a vanity; on top stood a stone washbowl.

“It’s really not bad,” Elaine said. “Better than a pile of seaweed in the Undines’ kitchen. I’ve my own private room now.”

She sat on the bed. “This is softer than it looks.”

“Elaine,” Bramble began. “I’ve told you my story. Could you tell me yours, if it would not trouble you too much?”

“Oh, of course, Bramble. That is, if you don’t mind staying here a good few hours or so. I’m afraid my story is shamelessly lengthy.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mind,” he said gently, and Elaine was startled looking into the faun’s eyes for she realized that she’d just invited a young man, a near-stranger, to stay in her room for hours (though he might not have been young at all, and was not entirely a man). But she was in another world now – the customs of the place would surely differ from her own, would they not? Thus Elaine ignored her scruples, feeling a shameful glee for transgressing such a rule.

Slowly she proceeded to unwind the twisted threads of her story to the faun. She began with Aria’s death, unraveled the yarn of her fierce dreams and fermenting resolutions, spun the rough rope of her single-handed escape and meeting the Lady of Elsinore Hill. From her mouth spilled the strange silk of the Lady’s ritual, then reels of the truth and the journey to the sea and her time among the Undines. Finally came the winding scarf of how she had come to the land Faeries.

When Elaine finished, Bramble softly took her hand and held it within both of his own. They were side by side on the bed. The human girl’s heart pounded with the wonderful impropriety of the moment.

“You’re an extraordinary girl,” said the faun.

Elaine blushed, averted her gaze. “I thank you, but I’m simply a girl who happened to fall into an excessively strange chain of events.” She gazed out at the lacework of green boughs and rickety stairs, on which the sun still shone brightly. “How odd that there’s still this much sun. I would have thought it’d be twilight by now.”

“That’s Faerie time,” Bramble replied. “You think it’s so long because you have the charm. If you were enchanted, the days would be passing like heartbeats – and you would also be the happiest you’ve ever been. But it would be a coerced happiness, not truly belonging to you.” With the tip of a finger, he traced the green veins on the back of Elaine’s hand, sending a frisson through her blood. “You must avoid Lord Lrcyk to the very extent of practicality, Elaine.” His voice was lowered. “He must not find out about the charm.”

The girl nodded hesitantly. “Yes…but wouldn’t it be so much more convenient for everyone if I were under enchantment? Your life wouldn’t be jeopardized, and I would be happy and carefree, so I wouldn’t care about whether or not my emotions were truly my own, anyway.” The place on her hand where he’d touched felt pulsing with light. “I am already here forever. If I cling to the human world, I’ll only feel pain.”

“Do not give up hope just yet that you will return to your world, Lady Elaine.”

“Whatever do you mean by that, Bramble? I made a promise to stay here eternally, and I will never break it, for Aria’s sake.”

“Ah, but I have heard troubling news, from the Faeries exiled to the human world and from the townsfolk who convene near my charm stand. They speak of a beautiful dark-haired young woman seen near the Lady’s Hill, entering and leaving it freely. The exiles say it is still the Lady, yet in a new skin.”

Elaine felt an unbearable tilting in her head, and seized the bedframe to keep from collapsing. “Impossible,” she breathed. “It cannot – cannot – be Aria. The Lady promised she would do my sister no harm. She gave me her word!” Tears sprung blazing to her eyes.

Bramble put a hand on the girl’s arm. “Faeries usually do not willfully deceive or harm, unless it is necessary, like the glamour, or an act of revenge. We do not break promises, but some will find ways to evade them without truly breaking them. Additionally, the Lady is part human. I hope you will not take offense to my saying this, but human promises are often brittle, breaking easily.”

“She is evil,” Elaine seethed. “How I would like to see her drown before my eyes, to have her know what my sister suffered…Oh, I should have listened to Joseph. Why on earth did I never even consider his words? He is probably dead by now, or worse – and it’s all on account of me.” By now Elaine wept openly, miserably.

“Please don’t punish yourself, my Lady,” said Bramble. “Nothing that happened is any fault of your own. You weren’t the one who broke their promise in the first place.”

“But what could I possibly do about this? I can’t help Aria, because there is no way out of this world – but I cannot sit by while the Lady walks around in my sister’s skin. I’m not sure you understand, Bramble…it’s as if I’d rather watch London burning to the ground than see Aria in the flesh again, but look into her eyes and see someone else behind them.”

“I’ve two objections, Lady Elaine – the first being that since the Lady has gone back on her half of the promise, that makes your half null and void as well. You are free to leave now. Which brings me to my second objection – there do exist ways to leave the Faerie world. One only needs to know them, and I do.”

“You mean – you would truly – “ Elaine gasped.

“I will lead you out,” he whispered into her ear. “Against the will and doctrine of the entire Faerie court.”

The girl looked at the faun with suspicious amazement. “I must ask, why would you go to such lengths for me, Bramble? What do I possess that merits such dangerous actions?”

He was silent for a good time, during which she grew chagrined at her question and considered taking it back, before he answered, “I care about you a great deal, Elaine.” A strange note filled his voice.

“Yes, but…why?”

“Because I love you.”

Elaine was confounded. The breath fled from her body and her corset became a suffocating cage. “Bramble, you – you can’t.”

“Please tell me why.”

“Well…you’re a Faerie. And I am human. You don’t love, the Undines told me.” There was such a pleading look in his eyes that Elaine grew frightened, scouring her mind for more reasons. “Yet also, I am afraid there is a young human gentleman who has already claimed my heart.”

The faun turned his head away so she could not see any of his face. When he looked at her again, his expression was of the utmost contrition. “I sincerely apologize for my words and actions, Elaine. It was never in my intention to make you uncomfortable. I’m a rash, uncivilized creature, and my instincts have precedence over my sense of logic or courtesy. Could you possibly forgive me?”

Elaine smiled. “Of course, Bramble. You never knew. It wasn’t your fault, although you will probably say that it was. But I won’t believe it, so you may as well save your breath.”

Bramble inclined his head to her, and said, “I shall leave you alone now, Lady Elaine. Good day.” He descended the steps and was too soon lost from sight within the branches.

His absence was unexpectedly dismaying.