Original Fiction: Turn of the Tide
TITLE: Turn of the Tide
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: It’s autumn in the fairy realm of Arcadia; Puck and Alvara take a boat ride downstream to visit a friend.
GENRE: Fantasy, Fairies, Folklore
STATUS: Complete - One Shot
COPYRIGHT: This is a piece of original writing. All characters and concepts pertaining to Turn of the Tide are the property of wintervixen86.
AUTHORS NOTE: Written for challenge 5, prompt 7 @ writerverse. Also written for Day 8 @ adventchallenge (25 stories - 25 days)
*
The water was so smooth it looked like black glass. Leaning over the side of the boat, Alvara trailed her fingers gently through the cool water marking tiny ripples on the surface. It was a spectacular morning; the sun had chased the moon across the sky and was now smiling smugly down on the realm of Arcadia.
Alvara gave the oars a strong pull and let her tiny boat drift further downriver on its own accord. She was floating towards the old bridge now and if the last few days were any indication, Puck would be waiting for her. Lifting a hand, Alvara shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted through the haze of orange and gold until she spotted the mischievous nature sprite.
“You’re very predictable,” Alvara called up to him.
“Predictable?” He repeated offended. “I am anything but predictable.” He grinned and swung up onto the bridge, dangling his legs over the edge. “Where are you off to this fine morning, Alvara?”
“I was planning to visit Naarah. You’re welcome to join me.”
Puck wrinkled his nose. “That woman does not like me.”
“I heard a rumour that you stole all her chickens and convinced them to storm the Winter Castle.”
Puck waved a hand. “Gross exaggeration.”
Alvara smiled. “Are you coming or not Goodfellow?” She dug her oars into the water. The current had started to tug playfully at the bottom of the boat and she didn’t want to be whisked further downstream.
He sighed heavily, as though accompanying her was such a great chore and leapt off the bridge to land lightly in the boat. He brushed himself off and whistled. “Nice ride you have here.”
Alvara rolled her eyes and pulled the oars into the boat. The tide took the hint and grasped them in its liquid fingers, moving them downstream and underneath the bridge at a steady pace.
Puck fashioned himself a fishing rod from nothing more than glamour and a piece of string from his pocket and sat comfortably against the side of the boat, letting the string trail in the water behind them. Alvara watched the fish deftly avoid the hook for several minutes before turning her eyes to the beautiful golden canopy above the river.
Autumn was a beautiful time in Arcadia. It was a time when summer and winter retreated to the shadows and left behind vibrant colours in ever shade of red, orange and yellow. It was coming to the end of the season now, and as Alvara watched she could see tiny flakes of snow materializing amongst the golden leaves, chasing the leaflets off their branches and crowning victoriously as they fluttered to the ground. Winter was definitely on its way.
“What are you going to see Naarah for?” Puck asked. He reeled in his line and modified the hook before throwing it out once more.
“I’m picking up some winter seeds,” Alvara said. “I go to see her on the cusp of every season.”
“She does have the most beautiful garden in Arcadia.” Puck glanced up at the golden canopy. “But somehow I think winter may be a little late this year.”
“Winter will come when it’s ready,” Alvara agreed. “But the weather is getting a little colder each day, my autumn garden is starting to wilt. Winter will soon sprout in its place.” Alvara looked ahead and smiled. “We need to get off here.”
“Here?” Puck asked bewildered. “Right in the middle of the river?”
“Maybe if you ask really nicely the water will deliver us safely to the bank.”
Puck crossed his arms over his chest and pouted like a little boy. “The river and I have never gotten along.”
“Why am I not surprised? You have far too many adventures, Puck. I can’t keep up with you.”
“That is my goal in life. To be ten steps ahead of everyone else.” Puck grabbed both oars and successfully rowed them to the riverbank. He leapt from the boat the second it hit the muddy shore and dragged it further up the riverbank. He bowed deeply and extended his hand. “M’lady?”
Alvara slapped it away laughing. “Save it for Naarah. If she dislikes you as much as you say she does then you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Puck straightened. “Maybe I should stay with the boat.”
Alvara grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
The path to Naarah’s house was so overgrown that one could barely even tell there was a path until they were on one. Alvara stepped into the thick green grass confidently and lead the way through the trees until they reached a small clearing.
“I don’t know why she bothers,” Puck whispered in Alvara’s ear. “Why even bother to build a house if you’re going to forget the walls?”
Alvara supposed that Puck had a point. Naarah was an earth fairy and as a result, she liked to let the outdoors in. Her house was nothing more or less than a couple of warm rugs and large pillows positioned around the flora that had existed long before Naarah decided to call the clearing home. Alvara loved it. There was something so beautiful and earthy about living in a house that was as much outdoors as it was in.
“Is that who I think it is?”
The voice that floated towards them on the wind was high and tinkling. Following the voice was Naarah herself who looked exactly as she had in spring, with her long white hair billowing down the expanse of her back and her bright green eyes shining like Alvara was the most exciting thing she had seen in centuries.
“Alvara,” she greeted. “How are you my dear?” Her eyes found Puck. “And you brought Robin goodfellow, I see.”
Puck grinned sheepishly. “Good to see you, Naarah.”
“The last time I saw you, you were stealing my chickens.”
“Technically, I borrowed them.”
“You never returned them, Goodfellow.”
“I’ll buy you new ones,” Puck promised with his most winning smile.
Naarah just glared.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Puck stepped back and pushed Alvara forward. “Look, Alvara is here.”
Alvara rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Naarah. “I came to purchase some seeds. Puck came to repay you for the chickens he stole.”
Puck blinked. “No I didn’t.” At Alvara’s pointed look he blinked. “Oh... um. Yes. Of course I did.”
Naarah glared at Puck one last time before beckoning them through the gate. “Come inside, I’ve just put on some tea.”
END
All comments and feedback are much appreciated.
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: It’s autumn in the fairy realm of Arcadia; Puck and Alvara take a boat ride downstream to visit a friend.
GENRE: Fantasy, Fairies, Folklore
STATUS: Complete - One Shot
COPYRIGHT: This is a piece of original writing. All characters and concepts pertaining to Turn of the Tide are the property of wintervixen86.
AUTHORS NOTE: Written for challenge 5, prompt 7 @ writerverse. Also written for Day 8 @ adventchallenge (25 stories - 25 days)
*
The water was so smooth it looked like black glass. Leaning over the side of the boat, Alvara trailed her fingers gently through the cool water marking tiny ripples on the surface. It was a spectacular morning; the sun had chased the moon across the sky and was now smiling smugly down on the realm of Arcadia.
Alvara gave the oars a strong pull and let her tiny boat drift further downriver on its own accord. She was floating towards the old bridge now and if the last few days were any indication, Puck would be waiting for her. Lifting a hand, Alvara shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted through the haze of orange and gold until she spotted the mischievous nature sprite.
“You’re very predictable,” Alvara called up to him.
“Predictable?” He repeated offended. “I am anything but predictable.” He grinned and swung up onto the bridge, dangling his legs over the edge. “Where are you off to this fine morning, Alvara?”
“I was planning to visit Naarah. You’re welcome to join me.”
Puck wrinkled his nose. “That woman does not like me.”
“I heard a rumour that you stole all her chickens and convinced them to storm the Winter Castle.”
Puck waved a hand. “Gross exaggeration.”
Alvara smiled. “Are you coming or not Goodfellow?” She dug her oars into the water. The current had started to tug playfully at the bottom of the boat and she didn’t want to be whisked further downstream.
He sighed heavily, as though accompanying her was such a great chore and leapt off the bridge to land lightly in the boat. He brushed himself off and whistled. “Nice ride you have here.”
Alvara rolled her eyes and pulled the oars into the boat. The tide took the hint and grasped them in its liquid fingers, moving them downstream and underneath the bridge at a steady pace.
Puck fashioned himself a fishing rod from nothing more than glamour and a piece of string from his pocket and sat comfortably against the side of the boat, letting the string trail in the water behind them. Alvara watched the fish deftly avoid the hook for several minutes before turning her eyes to the beautiful golden canopy above the river.
Autumn was a beautiful time in Arcadia. It was a time when summer and winter retreated to the shadows and left behind vibrant colours in ever shade of red, orange and yellow. It was coming to the end of the season now, and as Alvara watched she could see tiny flakes of snow materializing amongst the golden leaves, chasing the leaflets off their branches and crowning victoriously as they fluttered to the ground. Winter was definitely on its way.
“What are you going to see Naarah for?” Puck asked. He reeled in his line and modified the hook before throwing it out once more.
“I’m picking up some winter seeds,” Alvara said. “I go to see her on the cusp of every season.”
“She does have the most beautiful garden in Arcadia.” Puck glanced up at the golden canopy. “But somehow I think winter may be a little late this year.”
“Winter will come when it’s ready,” Alvara agreed. “But the weather is getting a little colder each day, my autumn garden is starting to wilt. Winter will soon sprout in its place.” Alvara looked ahead and smiled. “We need to get off here.”
“Here?” Puck asked bewildered. “Right in the middle of the river?”
“Maybe if you ask really nicely the water will deliver us safely to the bank.”
Puck crossed his arms over his chest and pouted like a little boy. “The river and I have never gotten along.”
“Why am I not surprised? You have far too many adventures, Puck. I can’t keep up with you.”
“That is my goal in life. To be ten steps ahead of everyone else.” Puck grabbed both oars and successfully rowed them to the riverbank. He leapt from the boat the second it hit the muddy shore and dragged it further up the riverbank. He bowed deeply and extended his hand. “M’lady?”
Alvara slapped it away laughing. “Save it for Naarah. If she dislikes you as much as you say she does then you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Puck straightened. “Maybe I should stay with the boat.”
Alvara grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
The path to Naarah’s house was so overgrown that one could barely even tell there was a path until they were on one. Alvara stepped into the thick green grass confidently and lead the way through the trees until they reached a small clearing.
“I don’t know why she bothers,” Puck whispered in Alvara’s ear. “Why even bother to build a house if you’re going to forget the walls?”
Alvara supposed that Puck had a point. Naarah was an earth fairy and as a result, she liked to let the outdoors in. Her house was nothing more or less than a couple of warm rugs and large pillows positioned around the flora that had existed long before Naarah decided to call the clearing home. Alvara loved it. There was something so beautiful and earthy about living in a house that was as much outdoors as it was in.
“Is that who I think it is?”
The voice that floated towards them on the wind was high and tinkling. Following the voice was Naarah herself who looked exactly as she had in spring, with her long white hair billowing down the expanse of her back and her bright green eyes shining like Alvara was the most exciting thing she had seen in centuries.
“Alvara,” she greeted. “How are you my dear?” Her eyes found Puck. “And you brought Robin goodfellow, I see.”
Puck grinned sheepishly. “Good to see you, Naarah.”
“The last time I saw you, you were stealing my chickens.”
“Technically, I borrowed them.”
“You never returned them, Goodfellow.”
“I’ll buy you new ones,” Puck promised with his most winning smile.
Naarah just glared.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Puck stepped back and pushed Alvara forward. “Look, Alvara is here.”
Alvara rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Naarah. “I came to purchase some seeds. Puck came to repay you for the chickens he stole.”
Puck blinked. “No I didn’t.” At Alvara’s pointed look he blinked. “Oh... um. Yes. Of course I did.”
Naarah glared at Puck one last time before beckoning them through the gate. “Come inside, I’ve just put on some tea.”
END
All comments and feedback are much appreciated.