Chapter Two

Chapter Two

 

 

 

                Awake.  It’s over.  It was all just a dream. 

 

Trembling violently, Risten sat up in bed.  Her hair was soaked, and beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.  She gulped and drew in a shaky breath.

 

                The damn nightmare again.  This needed to stop.  How many times would her cruel imagination have to display to her, like some freakish horror film, the death of her beloved?  They seemed to get worse and worse every time.  At that, she couldn’t just put them aside…what if they were more than just dreams?  What if she really did...?  She didn’t have a reason not to believe this to be so.  Only a few days ago, she had been an everyday human girl.  Now she was anything but human. 

 

                She shook her head briskly and threw off her covers. 

 

“Derek...”  she whispered, almost involuntarily.  At that moment she realized how desperately she wanted him--somebody--anybody.  How she wanted to embrace him, to feel his warmth flow into her veins like a torrent of sunshine.  She shivered and hugged her arms.  She thought of running her fingers through his hair, or touching his smooth skin.  Her hands trembled at the sudden rush of thoughts.

 

These dreams concerning him and her.  This all had to have some sort of connection, but what?

 

                Derek.  Not too tall, not too short.  Perfectly proportioned.  Thick, shiny black hair that flipped about his face; blue eyes so bright that they seemed to glow in the dark.  A handsome, slightly pointed nose and soft lips.  And his voice...deep and masculine, yet calm and gentle, clear as a mountain stream.  Risten imagined herself all alone with him atop a grassy hill, overlooking an endless forest.  In the distance, two mountains formed a frame for the just rising sun.  Bathed in the cerulean glow of the early morn, she could feel the burning desire of her second self.

 

                The desire to fall into his arms.  To pull off his shirt and caress that well-toned body she had never actually seen.  To feel the pressure of his lips against hers, locked in a passionate kiss.  If she let her mind wander long and far enough, Risten could close her eyes and feel his touch.  These thoughts comforted her, and made her heart beat fast with yearning.  But her beautiful, sub-conscious thoughts were as close as she would ever get to him. 

 

                Or so she thought.

 

She sighed and opened her eyes, cruel reality washing over her like a death sentence.  Who was she kidding?  She had never even met him.  Who knew what he was really like?  But then again...she had only seen him once, for a fleeting moment.  How could she love him so much?

 

                Her thoughts kept repeating themselves; taking turns tormenting her weary mind.  You’re a freak.  They said.  You’re in love with someone you don’t even know.  You’ll never have him.  You’re going to kill him.  He will die in your arms.  You will cry forever.  You’re stupid to be so infatuated with someone you’ve never met.  You’re a witch. 

 

You’re a freak.

 

There was no way she could go back to sleep now.  Risten got out of bed, slipped on a pair of shorts over her leggings and her boots.  She went outside, still blackened by a moonless night.  She shivered at the cold air, and wished she had put on a sweater over her camisole.  She wandered around in the darkness, unaware of what she was doing or where she was going.  She heard the flutter of the twilight-faeries in the trees above her, giggling and sending streams of glimmering silver dust through the air.  Risten had gotten used to them.  They were harmless creatures, simply there, like nature.  But never mind the faeries.  What was she looking for?

 

                This is stupid.  You're such an idiot, Risten.  She thought to herself, as frustration gripped her.  She stamped her boot against a large tree root on the forest floor.  Why she was so angry, she didn't know.  What do you hope to find?  Your silly fantasy of a prince, with shining armor and a white horse?  Ha! 

 

But there was nothing silly or fake about Derek.  He was real; too real.  As was Ancantha.  There were many times Risten had hoped that her coming to this strange land magically and falling for this impossibly handsome guy was all just a dream, and she would wake up eventually.  Normal.  In her bed in Oregon.  In her nothing of a life.  But why--how--could she want that?  Risten’s arrival to Ancantha gave her an odd sense of hope...that she could be something more than just nobody.  Someone who actually had meaning:  a purpose.  She pinched herself--hard, as a reminder to never desire to go back ever again.  This was her adventure, her destiny to face. 

 

It was supposed to be exciting, not scary.

 

                And yet, Derek seemed to her to be as far away as a prince in a fairy tale.  She wondered what he was doing now.

 

                Probably sleeping.  She thought.  Which is what you should be doing.  She wished that she could share this night with him.  She felt as if she would do anything to be lying beside him right now.

 

                Suddenly, Risten heard rustling only a few feet away from her.

 

                Crap!  Cried Risten in her mind.  What now?  Startled, she looked around.  She couldn't see a thing.  Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.  Not rough, rude, or otherwise unpleasant, but gentle.  When she turned, her heart leapt into her throat; she couldn't believe her luck.

 

                It was Derek.

 

~*~

 

Risten gasped, and reeled back slightly.  Derek leaned casually against a tree and crossed his arms.  He was dressed in a slim-fit sweater, destroyed jeans, and sneakers.  His hair was wavy and damp, as if he had just showered.

 

                "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.  Are you lost?"  he said in his smooth voice.  Risten suddenly felt very, very small.  She could feel the blood rushing to her face.

 

                "No, I'm not lost.  I'm just taking a walk."  she said, trying to sound indifferent.  Derek smirked.

 

                "At three in the morning?"  His cerulean eyes sparkled with amusement.  Risten realized that he was flirting, actually flirting with her, and something inside of her definitely enjoyed it.  She raised her chin confidently.

 

                "Oh?  And what are you doing up so early?"  she asked, crossing her arms loosely.

 

                "Well, to be honest, I don't really know.  I couldn't sleep."  He was staring at the ground.

 

                "Me either."  said Risten quietly.  Derek looked up at her, but she looked away.

 

                "Risten?  How are those dreams?"  he asked cautiously.  Risten turned on him sharply and frowned.

 

                "What?  How do you know who I am?"

 

                "Heh...don't deny it, you know who I am too.  C'mon, word passes around the village--“

 

                "I don't have prophetic dreams!"  cried Risten,  "Don't listen to the villagers, whatever they say isn't true…I'm not a witch!"  she sounded angrier than she would've like, but luckily Derek didn't seem to notice.  He turned his head innocently.

 

                "I don't think you're a witch."  he said coolly.  "Never mind.  I was just curious.  This sort of mental power is not a common gift, even in this land.”  his eyes met hers,  “Even for an Otherkind.  But like I said, never mind.  I didn't mean to offend you."  He tossed his head to shake his jet-black bangs from his eyes.  Something about that sent a tingle down Risten’s spine.  She began to break down at the thought of her nightmare.

 

                "You didn't offend me.  But I don't have prophetic dreams.  I--“  but Risten stopped short, as a sob caught in her throat.  Derek watched with a concerned, deeply thoughtful expression.  Risten wiped her eyes and turned away from him, shivering from the cool forest breeze.  Derek left the tree and stood behind her.  Risten could smell his cologne; it smelt of the fresh, clean air around a waterfall.

 

                "Did you...have a bad dream?"  he asked, stroking Risten's spine with the back of his hand.  His coolness of his touch made her shiver even more.  She couldn't stop the tears.

 

                "Hey...everything’s okay.”  he soothed.  No.  Everything was so not okay.  Risten had just woken from a horrible nightmare of the worse kind; the kind that feels so real, it was as if you were actually living it.  As if you actually did kill him. 

 

How could he understand that?

 

~*~

 

She didn’t know how it happened, but Risten ended up in Derek's arms, sitting upon the mossy forest floor against the trunk of a willow tree.  His arms around her made her feel like this was the safest place to be.  In his arms.  Finally.  As long as she was here, she was…

 

…but Risten's mind was still trapped in her nightmare.  What if she did have prophetic dreams?  She did dream that the prince of Ancantha would fall ill, and that he was now.  Was it all just a coincidence?  Could she really be a witch?  Risten could hear the mocking voices of the villagers echoing in her ears.  They all hated her.  She remembered Spiri’s tears.  She missed her.

 

“So it was a bad dream?”  asked Derek, quietly.  Risten nodded against his chest.  “I won’t ask you to tell me about it, but maybe some other time?”

 

“Sure.”  Risten managed to say.  She nuzzled her cheek into Derek’s sweater and dozed a bit.  She didn’t know how much time had passed before she opened her eyes again.

 

                "Do you feel better now?"  Derek’s voice broke silence.  Risten didn't answer.  The sound of Derek’s heart beating and the rise and fall of his steady breathing against her cheek comforted her troubled mind to some extent.  She felt like a child in her father's arms.  So pathetic.  So helpless.  Although she knew she was being too harsh on herself, Risten felt oddly ashamed of her childish fears.

 

                "I'm fine."  was her answer, much too late.  Derek looked down at her.

 

                "No."  he said quietly.  Risten met his gaze.  His beautiful eyes seemed to look straight through hers.  She could feel her cheeks flushing again.  Derek cleared his throat, almost soundlessly.  "No, you're not fine..."  Risten didn't know what to say.  He was right.  An awkward moment of silence passed.

 

                "I don’t get it.”  she said after a while, not looking at him.

 

                "What do you mean?"

 

                "Well it's not often that a guy will hold a girl in his arms, just to make her feel better from a bad dream.  What’s the catch?  Or are you just playing me?"

 

                Derek feigned (or Risten hoped he was pretending) an offended expression.  “There’s no catch.  I’m not playing you."

 

                Risten wanted to pinch herself again.

 

“I don't know...I guess I just...understand you...it's hard to explain."  he continued.  He was looking towards the sky, now illuminated ever so slightly with the blue glow of the very early morning.  “I guess I can relate to you.”  Risten considered this for a moment.  Noticing her serious expression, Derek changed his approach.

 

                “I am attracted to you.  You’re very beautiful.”  he said, grinning.  “Is that what you wanted me to say?”

 

                Risten snorted.  “Whatever.”  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that rose into her face.  She wiped it away.  She remembered the previous evening when she had ran away from the village.  She had seen Derek fighting some men, with curious skill.

 

“I saw you beat down two men yesterday.”  said Risten.  “What was that about?"  The humor drained, not all at once, from Derek’s face.  He hesitated to answer for a moment.

 

                "Thieves.  They've been wanted in the village for a while now."  He made it obvious that he didn't want to talk about this.

 

                "You're a good fighter...too good for a human.  What kind of magic was that you were using?"  Risten eyed him curiously, but Derek was silent.  She pulled from his embrace.

 

                "Why don't you want to tell me that you're an elf?"  she pushed back his soft hair to see his ears, but they were just as a human's.

 

                "Because I'm not an elf."  he said, his eyes not leaving hers.

 

                "But I saw you use magic!  I thought humans can't use magic...you must be some other sort of race--“

 

                "Actually, humans can use magic, if they are trained properly."  he looked away, "But you are correct, I am not human.  Or rather, half of me is not."  Risten turned Derek's face towards hers with her hand.  She couldn't believe that a few hours ago, she had never even met him.  Now she was touching him.  This world was so strange.

 

                "Half?"  she said, as he closed his eyes.  "Derek?"

 

                "I'm a half-elf."  he said plainly, though his expression was clearly distasteful.  Risten sighed through her nose with misunderstanding.

 

                "So?  Is there something...wrong with that?"  she said.  Derek looked at her solemnly and swallowed hard.

 

                "I'm half of both, neither human nor elf; a nothing, stuck in between.  Like you, I'm hated by the villagers for what makes me who I am.  What they call strange.  The humans here are stubborn and hate the elves.  They seem to them as a superior, know-it-all race.  My parents died because they loved each other.  They weren't even properly married because of their racial differences, so now I'm a 'b*****d' on top of all this."  he paused with an injured sniff, and wiped his nose.

 

                "Risten...I'm sure you've read some of those lovely fairy tales where elves and humans get along...that's not how it is here.  The villagers of Koto are extremely distrustful because of…previous encounters."  he paused, and Risten thought of the woman back at the village.  Remember the last time we put faith in a witch?  The woman had said.

 

Then Derek lowered his tone and continued, "Even if...you rid the village of two very dangerous thieves, the villagers don't care.  Because it was you who did it.  They have no gratitude for me, a worthless half-blood."  Derek stopped there, obviously having said much more than he had wanted. 

How terrible.  Risten's heart burned with pity and anger for Derek's situation.  She understood him.  She felt his pain.  How could she have been so selfish?  What were some stupid little nightmares to his?

 

                "Derek, I--“

 

                "I'm nothing, Risten.  No family, no friends.  No past, no present…no future."  His eyes were wet with withheld tears as he leaned back against the tree.  He looked sad.  Dreadfully sad.  Risten shook her head as he tried to pull away.

 

                "You don’t have ‘nothing’.  You have me now."  she said, in the most obstinate voice she could manage.  Derek stared at her a moment, with a mixed expression of frustration, surprise and wonder.  His features softened, and tears escaped both his and Risten’s eyes.

 

“Risten...”  he whispered, holding her chin with a finger.  He couldn’t find anything else to say.

 

“You’re beautiful.”  she said in a choked voice.  Derek angled his head and parted his lips, drawing his face close to hers.  Risten closed her eyes and waited.  It wasn't long before they were locked in a gentle, embracing kiss.  A breeze blew past, rustling the willow's tears so they twisted in spirals around Derek and Risten.  The twilight faeries giggled and flew around them, surrounding their sanctuary with a veil of shimmering pixie dust.

 

                "So are you."  whispered Derek breathlessly between kisses.

 

                The early morning sun had just peaked over the horizon.

Author's Note

This chapter to chapter 4 are very old and haven't been edited much...I'm actually quite embarrassed at how terrible they are. Oh well. lol

Reviews

[ravenjess]

love the romance but it seems a bit mainstream to me. u can do wayyy better;) keep updating i wanna see how this ends up!!!!

[Bridget Murphy]

I still like them! I like the way you set the scene for the romance to happen, can't wait to read more!!!:)