Ravens Hollow

They sat beneath the golden canopy of an ancient tree. Its broad branches shaped both table and benches as autumn leaves drifted lazily around the royal terrace. Elven architecture made it difficult to tell where a building ended and the forest began, as the two wove together seamlessly.

Faolan had a difficult time paying attention. The meal had been delightful; it was just the company he didn’t care for.
A rustle behind him told the young elf that a certain chipmunk had come to forage in the autumn leaves. He risked a quick glance at his father and, seeing that he was engaged in conversation, plucked a blueberry from his plate and held it down beside the leg of his bench.

I wasn’t going to eat it anyway, he mentally whispered to the chipmunk.

When he felt little paws on his fingers, he let go and the berry was gone.

“Eavan’s Mentor has spoken highly of her. As I understand it, she excels in greencraft and archery, is that right?” His father asked Eavan’s mother.

The courtier brightened at the King’s praise of her daughter. “Yes, she has proven herself to be a most advanced grower and remains the top student under the Bow Master’s training.”

Her hand absently stroked her daughter’s blonde hair.

Eavan’s face had a delicate beauty and her fair hair was artfully braided, but Faolan was too young to appreciate such things. He did not understand why his father insisted on seeking a life match right now—or why he had to spend time with her when he was not even thirteen summers. In truth, he would much rather be at training or riding fae horses with his brothers.

Merrick sat opposite him, repeatedly kicking the living bench he shared with Eavan and her mother. Every time his heel hit the trunk, the leaves on the branches rattled. Several dislodged and floated down and into their food.

“Merrick,” their mother said from the other side of their father. Her auburn hair spilled over one shoulder in loose curls, the same fiery autumn shade shared by both her sons. Her face was pleasant, but her tone was firm.

He stopped without looking up and picked at his plate.

Faolan went rigid when he felt his father’s hand on his back. “Faolan has quite a talent for healing craft and for swordplay, isn’t that right, my son? He’s a capable archer, but his skill in swordsmanship is unparalleled in his class.”

Faolan nodded and pretended to adjust his green jacket and vest, both embroidered in fine silver thread.

“That’s wonderful,” Eavan’s mother replied. “An excellent match, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart? The two of you will have so much to talk about.”

Faolan looked up and found Eavan smiling at him. He glanced over at his brother, who was making kissy-faces, and rolled his eyes.

“I am sure with time and as they train and learn together, the two of them will find each other most agreeable,” their mother added. Faolan sensed her trying to catch his gaze, but he kept his eyes down, not wishing for her to see him frown. He hated this.

A plunk caught his attention, followed by a shuffle, as his father stood up. Faolan looked up just as the King said, “Merrick, that behavior is unacceptable for a Seelie prince. You will leave this table and reflect by the lake alone until your brother comes to retrieve you.”

Confused, Faolan looked around until he spotted the purple stain on his father’s green and silver jacket. Merrick had tossed a blueberry into his juice.

Faolan couldn’t help himself and exchanged mischievous smirks with his brother as Merrick left the table, though once he was gone, Faolan stared at his empty chair and longed for him to return.

After lunch was over and their attendants had come to collect their empty plates and glasses, Faolan excused himself, bowing to Eavan and her mother, and turned to leave. He couldn’t wait to join his brother, but before he could escape, Eavan touched his hand.

Her eyes lowered as she blushed. “Faolan.”

He stopped, knowing their parents were watching them. He glanced toward them. The leafy crowns atop his father’s and mother’s heads had turned copper and gold with the change in season, accenting their blond and auburn hair. A small leaf trickled down from his mother’s crown until it landed gently on the forest floor.

Faolan lowered his gaze to regard Eavan.

“Here,” she said, and offered him a small green acorn.

He opened his hand to accept it.

“If you nourish it, it will grow, like my love for you.” She turned and ran away, joining her mother and hiding behind her skirts.

Faolan felt a pulse of life from the acorn. Sleep now, he told it, and in the spring I shall wake you.

He cradled it and then turned to fetch his brother.

Faolan found Merrick leaning against a tall cedar overlooking a collection of lakes known to their people as the Silver Drops. He crept up to the tree as quietly as he could, practicing the silent steps the Forest Master had taught him.

A gentle lullaby drifted over to him and filled his thoughts with memories of the honey cakes and berries from lunch. The singer must have been near the shoreline in front of Merrick. When the song finished, Faolan decided to creep closer.

Merrick leaned forward and offered a honey cake to a young merrow who looked about their age. She had a dark blue tail with black stripes and an iridescent sheen to her scales that reminded him of labradorite. Her hair draped around her chest and shoulders in long black curtains.

The merrow raised a slender hand and accepted the treat. She sniffed it before taking a bite and then smiled up at him.

Faolan was so taken with her beauty and the display of kindness from his brother that he stepped on a twig. The merrow looked up, startled, and then dove into the lake before he could apologize.

Merrick glanced at him, but did not leave his tree. Faolan moved in beside him. “Do you have any more?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Merrick reached into his pocket, produced another honey cake, broke it, and offered half to Faolan.

“Do you think she’ll come back?” He asked his twin.

“Maybe,” Merrick replied.

They stood silently together, both dressed in their house colors of silver and green, and waited patiently. To their surprise, their efforts were rewarded.

A black head of hair slowly emerged from the water, followed by large, dark eyes.

I’m sorry. Please, take this offering as an apology. Faolan showed her his cake.

The merrow swam cautiously closer, but didn’t pull herself out of the water.

May I? he asked as he stepped closer.

She nodded, and he removed his shoes and rolled up his pants. Stepping into the cool water, he handed her his half of the honey cake. She took the treat and swam out a ways before nibbling it above the surface.

Faolan returned to his brother, and they both watched her in silence for a time.

“How many more of these lunches will Father drag us to?” Merrick asked.

“I don’t know,” Faolan answered.

“Do you even like her?” Merrick turned to look at him.

Faolan picked up a stick and began drawing circles in the sand. “I don’t know that either.”

“I don’t like girls and I don’t expect to like them anytime soon, but… but I suppose she’s not so bad.” Merrick indicated the merrow who had slunk back into the water, watching them with interest. Her thick eyelashes created an artful frame for her eyes as they floated above the reflective surface.

“We’ll like girls someday—at least, that’s what Liam says,” Faolan reminded his brother. Then he added, “And if I did like girls, I suppose she’s not so bad either.”