Butterfly Waltz

The sun shone brilliantly through the the canopy of green above, the light escaping it illuminating the dead leaves that littered the forest floor. All manner of woodland creatures scurried through the plants below, going about their daily routine. Songbirds chirped happily at each other, creating the most beautiful melody. The sound of rushing water could be heard from beyond a grouping of trees, where a river filled with aquatic life flowed down the slope of the ground. Finthoriel, a Wood Elf who inhabited this woodland with her Elven tribe, was perched on one of the branches of a Wynch Elm, taking in her surroundings.

She had long hair that was the color of the scenery around her; a few sections of it put into thin braids. Her ears were narrowly pointed and thin with three gold piercings in each lobe. She wore brown leather vambrances on each of her wrists and carried a long bow with a quiver of arrows attached to a belt at her waist. Despite her soldierly appearance, she was not rigid with the tension of battle, but calm and content with the tranquility the forest brought her.

A cerulean and gold butterfly flew near her and she held an inviting hand towards it. The colorful insect landed on her outstretched finger, completely unafraid. She kept her hand still, watching the slow movements of the butterfly's shimmering wings. The sunlight hit its scales perfectly, making them gleam gloriously. Even though she had lived in the woods all her life, its beauty still continued to take her breath away.

"Finthoriel!" A cheerful voice shouted from below. The unexpected noise startled both butterfly and Elf; the former taking flight immediately. It fluttered its wings as fast as it could to reach the protection of the nearest oak tree's leaves. Finthoriel turned her head sharply and looked down, her dark green tresses whipping through the air and landing over her right shoulder. A tall Elf with white-blonde hair stood beneath her, his hand resting on his bow as he smiled broadly up at her.

"Castien, you shouldn't sneak up on me like that." She said, mock-glaring at him. Castien was her oldest and most trusted friend. He was exceptionally tall, even for an Elf, being seven inches taller than her at 6'7". He was clothed in the traditional hues of brown and green, making his pale hair all the more striking. His bow was in his right hand, the quiver filled with arrows slung over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't make it so easy." He teased, moving closer toward the tree she occupied. "There is something I wish to show you." Finthoriel gripped her own bow tightly as she jumped from the tree, landing with her feet on the ground.

"What is it you wish to show me?" She asked curiously.

"You'll see." He said, turning to walk away after delivering his enigmatic statement. With no other interesting alternative, Finthoriel hurried to catch up to him.

The fallen leaves crunched softly beneath their feet as they walked between the trees. A dryad peered out from behind her bush as she heard them approach. Her green skin and mossy hair camouflaged her well against the foliage. As they passed her Juniper bush, she smiled timidly and waved before disappearing into the depths of vegetation that was her home. Dryads, while very shy, were always grateful to see Wood Elves because it meant that they were safe, as it was the job of Elves like Finthoriel to protect the forest from Drow and Orcs who occasionally pass through.

"Fin?" Her companion asked after a half an hour had passed.

"Yes?" Turning her head to look at him, she saw that he looked unsure about what was on his mind.

"I'm going to blindfold you the rest of the way. If that's alright with you." Castien said.

"As long as you promise not to let me fall over a log or collide into a tree, you may blindfold me." She said, easliy. She had trusted Castien with her life on many an occasion, so why not let him guide her through the woods?

"I would never let you do that." He laughed. "You might scar that pretty face." He touched her cheek lightly and then reached into his pocket to retrieve a strip of cloth. "Hold still." Finthoriel stopped walking and Castien moved to stand behind her. He folded the cloth in half to make it thinner and placed it over her eyes, holding the ends together behind her head. "Can you see?"

"No." She said, shaking her head.

"Good." She could hear the smile in his voice. He tied the ends together securely, and then grabbed one of her hands, leading her forward.

As Castien lead Finthoriel through the forest, her mind transported her back to when she had fought with him in the Great Elven War. The High Elves and the Drow, or Dark Elves, had been at war with each other for many years before they looked to their neutral cousins, the Wood Elves, for help. The Drow managed to sway a few of her Wood Elf brethren to the path of Dark Magic, but the majority favored their less destructive kin. All able-bodied Wood Elves were to fight alongside the High Elves to defeat their enemy for the promise that the forests would remain untouched, should they win. Castien had saved her life six times during their time in battle and she had saved his just as many before the truce was called. She would never forget that if it wasn't for him, she would be buried in an unmarked grave with the rest of the casualties.

It was while fighting by Castien's side that Finthoriel realized she had fallen in love with him. He was beautiful by every definition of the word; both on the inside and out. She felt safe when she was around him and her heart soared when he smiled at her a certain way. No one had ever made her feel that way.

The two Elves trekked onward, snapping twigs beneath their boots as they went. In the blackness created by the blindfold, Finthoriel was forced to rely solely on hearing and scent alone. It was slightly disconcerting for an archer to be deprived of her sight, but she managed.

Listening hard, she thought she heard the tinkling of bells in the far distance. Her heart jumped as she flashed back to her childhood. The faint aroma of honeysuckle confirmed her suspicion that they had entered Faerie territory. Finthoriel tried to bite back the smile that threatened to break through, but was unsuccessful.

For years, she had longed to visit the Faerie Realm. Growing up, stories were told at bedtime of the beauty and glory that could be found there. It was said that, once a year, the Faeries would have a special party that only those who were worthy to attend could find their way to. Many an Elf had tried, and failed, to locate the festival, but it seemed that Castien had succeeded.

They stopped walking and Castien stood behind Finthoriel, fingering the knot in the cloth obstructing her vision. His hard chest pressed into her back as he stepped closer until she felt his breath at her ear. Hands on her shoulders, he took a breath and whispered "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She sighed longingly. She hadn't meant to sound so affected, but having him so close in an intimate way was getting to her.

"Very well." He said, removing the blindfold.

As she opened her eyes, her mood deflated. Other than the distant bells and the barely-there scent, it looked exactly like the rest of the forest. That was, until she stepped forward.

Crossing over the threshold and into the Faerie Realm, Finthoriel was in awe as the scene changed before her. The grass grew thicker and greener, the sky turned bluer with swirls of purple and pink clouds, flowers glistened with dew and the air smelled pleasantly sweet. It was like a scene from her wildest fantasy.

She could see the Faeries now, dancing in midair, their multicolored wings keeping them suspended. A group of them played miniature lutes, lyres, harps and flutes; creating the most beautiful symphony.

Turning to Castien, she smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "It's beautiful." She said.

He reached out and touched her cheek to catch a tear that had escaped. His hand lingered, relishing the warmth of her smooth flesh.

"So are you." He said, leaning down to bring his lips to hers.