(no subject)
Today is the day. He’s promised her this for a long time, since she had first stopped in the in the square and listened to him, the only set of eyes that weren’t filled with either doubt or pity. He had to wait, at first, to make sure that she would be right to bring to his Friends, make sure that she wasn’t some sort of witch who was planning on stealing them from him to use Their powers. To make sure that her heart was pure, and her innocence true.
“This way, Mr. Kirkland?” She asks, getting ahead of him. Arthur is quick to grab hold of her arm, pulling her back. She knows this forest, like all the other children of the village, she had played there many a time. But this is not the time to let her go off and explore on her own, she needed to be guided through her first time.
“Follow me,” he instructs, and she is obedient. She keeps a step behind him, making sure that nothing falls out of the basket in her arms. It’s a pretty day, and though she is sometimes tempted to fall back a little and admire the blossoming spring around her, she knows that he walks much too quickly, and she would soon be lost. Though she couldn’t claim to know every inch of the forest, she was fairly familiar with it, but she had no idea the path he was taking her down…
A twist, a turn, and then a spin round widdershins, and finally they’re there in a small clearing. It doesn’t particularly look special-no more special than any of the other glades in the forest, but she wisely says nothing about that. But this must be it-Mr. Kirkland is beaming, and motioning for her to go forward. “Lay it all out, they’ll come out when you’re done,” he tells her, and so she does what he says. It’s not a big lunch, but it is nice, fresh food, some of the first harvest from the garden he’s so carefully maintained. It’s her cooking, of course-she’s learned better than to let him prepare any kind of food but tea.
Arthur watches her intently-the daughter of local landed gentry, her life was turned upside down after the death of her father. She was taken in by the stable boy, of all people, who had been the only one to remain loyal to her after fears of the girl’s family supposed curse had taken hold of the rest of the village. Arthur, of course, could easily see that the family had happened on a bit of bad luck and that nothing magical had been involved, but he had arrived much too late to fix any of that mess. To be honest, he’s surprised that the once-stable boy had allowed him to take her out, but likely, she had insisted on going, no matter what.
She sets a little forest table, clearing the leaves away and laying down a thin blanket to sit on. Then she lays out the dishes, old plates and cups that wouldn’t be missed if they had an accident, and then comes the food. Teeny tiny little sandwiches, a bowl of fresh berries, and a little thing of cream… it makes his mouth water, and for a brief moment he’s more excited about eating their lunch than about any meetings. But that’s only a moment, and he will join her on the blanket, peering around to see who has decided to come join them today…
Ah, there. He can see the little faces in the trees, peering from the roots and branches. Arthur smiles and beckons to them, inviting them to come and join them.
“Should I make a plate for them?” She asks, tilting her head. He shakes his head-they’ll take what they need, if they want to enjoy human food.
“Just wait,” he says, “And they’ll come to you.” They’re very well mannered, his Friends-and look-Friend Gnome has made his way out to see her, though he is still carefully keeping his distance. Flying Mint Green Bunny is the next, hovering over them at first, then flitting a little closer. Arthur smiles-the green of her spring frock compliments the green of Flying Mint Green Bunny’s fur, and the Spirit must have noticed that to be flying so close to her. A little longer, and more come. Some are brave enough to sit near her-one particularly audacious Little One is running her fingers through her hair. There are others, some eating from the bowl of berries or sharing a sandwich, more sitting in the clearing, playing and laughing in their company. “Do you see?” Arthur asks, an excited gleam in his eyes.
“See…” She trails off. Arthur looks at her expectantly, trying not to pressure her. Overhead, a game of tag has ensued. “I… I don’t, I’m sorry.” His heart sinks. Of course, even if her heart was true, she wouldn’t have the Sight. The berries and sandwiches gone missing must have been eaten when she wasn’t paying particular mind, the movement of her hair as the Little One played with it just a tiny little breeze.
His heart, deep inside, breaks.
“But,” she says after a moment, “It feels warm, here.” Arthur looks up, looks at her face. She’s smiling, not in a condescending way to assure him, but in a quiet way, an honest way. Though it’s not enough to mend everything, it gives him hope. Just because she can’t See doesn’t mean that she couldn’t feel-and perhaps finding another with the Sight isn’t his only hope. Maybe her belief in him and his truths was enough… and the fairies, despite having heard her admission, seemed to like her well enough. Just maybe…
The afternoon wanes on, and though the food is soon gone, the companionship remains. The fairies continue playing, and he shifts between talking to them and talking to her. It’s pleasant, and even though a chill breeze sets in, she doesn’t seem bothered by the cold at all-quite possibly because the fairies have set a little cape over her shoulders, though she doesn’t seem to notice. Eventually, though, dusk will be setting in soon, and being caught in the forest, Friends or no Friends, wasn’t at all a good idea. So they pack up and say goodbye-she says it too, though she never got to say hello--, and make their way back through the woods. The village is in sight when Arthur stops, suddenly.
“Is something the matter?” She asks, tilting her head again in a way that he’s starting to realize is really quite endearing.
“N-no-not really,” he replies, and it takes him a moment to get out the last part, “Maria.” She looks confused for a moment-he’s never used her first name like that--, then speaks again;
“Are you certain, Mr. Kirkland? I know that I couldn’t do what-“
“Arthur will do quite well, Maria.” He interrupts quickly, enjoying the sound of her name on his tongue.
“A-ah-if you wish… Arthur.” Saying his name makes her cheeks flush-he can tell that even in the low light of dusk. It makes him wonder, if something as simple as saying his name makes her that pink, then what would…
He shakes that thought, and instead offers her his arm. “I’ll walk you to your home,” he says. There’s more he would like to say, once he finds out what that is, but there is plenty time for more, later. First, he would have to explain to the short-tempered stable boy just why he had kept Maria out so late in the first place…