Chapter 4

Xander watched the exchange with glowing jealous eyes. In those moments he hatched a plan to reveal himself to his rose with great haste. He stalked her like a predator to prey as she wandered in the forest a while, until at last the time was right.
She had stopped beneath a goliath Rowan tree to rest, and as her eyes fluttered closed he leapt onto one of the lower boughs. He looked at her with a predatory gaze, head cocked as he pondered the best means to intrigue his quarry without scaring her away. His tail swished mere inches from her face making her nose bunch and causing her to retreat further into the hood of her bloody cloak.
He grinned down on her. "Hello my rose." The fae lilted.
Her eyes remained closed as she smiled in her sleep. "Ah my suitor, I'd been wonderin' when ye would be turnin' up once more." She replied dreamily.
"I am never far my rose." He said with a grin. "You should open thine eyes and grace me with thine lovely gaze."
"Is that so?" She curled up under the tree a bit more, pillowing her head with her arm.
"Yes."
"I find meself too tired for the act." She sighed wearily. "Perhaps once I've rested."
"As you wish." He responded, becoming a shade once more and melding with the forest. Magalea rested a while beneath the ancient tree before walking back to camp. The day was as warm as you could expect winter to be, the clouds hanging in great grey sheets with the threat of snow. She changed into fresh clothing and went about her chores. There was much to do before she could go to the solstice, and little time to do it in.
As she was preparing to leave at dusk Saro stopped her, babe in arms. "Well someone looks louvely for the party t'is evening. Expectin' someone?" She asked as she looked over the forest green dress Maggie had put on and the ribbons woven into her dark curls.
"Party?" Maggie asked, completely puzzled.
"Oh aye wit the wedding coming ya knew this'd be the night fer parties. What's come onto ya now love?" Saro replied, just as puzzled.
"Oh shite," She sighed out. "I'm just a bit tired tis all Sar. It may be a bit o' time until I make me appearance." Maggie scrubbed her eyes tiredly.
"Business elsewhere?" Saro asked with raised brow.
"Aye buisness elsewhere." Maggie agreed.
"I want details."
"Down ta da smells lovie." She reassured her before donning a deep blue cloak and spiriting away to the forest. Something followed her, a shadow always on the edge of her vision. Assuming it was her nerves she palmed the dagger hidden in her cloak for reassurance.
A deep chuckle erupted from close by, echoing around her. "That will not be necissary."
She blinked, her grip becoming white knuckled on the haft of her dagger and her knees bracing for a fight as she narrowed her eyes. "T'would be a fool t'ing ta be believein' a sprite in da forest." The wind rustled and she could feel someone toying with her hair.
In the shadows a puckish grin spread across Xander's face. "How very wise my rose."
When Magalea turned to see who it was she merely saw a shadow in her periphery. "Why is it that you hide?!" She cried out in frustration.
The bramble beside her parted to reveal an olive toned face, its eyes a piercing amethyst hue, its hair and goatee dark as pitch. There was something odd about the face, a wild beauty to it, and the horns that curled about its temples were queerer yet.
As Magalea studied him in disbelief he flourished his hand and stroked it down his gotee in contemplation. "Hiding? Who's hiding? Certainly not I." As he spoke his form rose, revealing broad shoulders and chest and a stomach that appeared chiseled from stone.
Magalea stared dumbfounded for several moments at the grinning creature before her. His gaze was predatory as he loomed over her. "Who? What?"
The creature bowed low, the lithe power he possesed obvious in the prowess with which he moved. "The who would be Alecxander. As for what..." He wrinkled his nose mischievously. "Perhaps another time." As he rose his face grew serious. "I've come to tell you not to go to the solstice."
Her brows shot up in surprise. "Oh really now?"
"Yes." He said with difinity, looming over her once more. "I've something much more fulfilling in mind than that festival." His eyes flashed with a suggestive light.
For a brief moment her heart fluttered at his suggestion. She found that he was closer now, a mere breathe away the scent of forest and honeyed mead filling her nose. But her brain caught up with her actions as he leaned down to kiss her and a great crack rang out as her hand lay a fierce blow to his cheek.
Xander's head whipped back and he let loose an angry snarl of pain. That had not been the outcome he'd hoped for as he pressed a big hand to his throbbing cheek. "What pray tell was that for?" he bit out.
"Presuming too much ya daft fae. I'll be doin' not a t'ing you've in mind." She said hotly as she marched away from him.
He was in front of her in a flash, barring her way. "You will not be leaving until I've savored thine lips."
She laughed. "Oh that's cute." And stepped around him.
He trailed behind her for a time until the silence drove him mad. Grabbing her arm he turned her to face him. "Will you at least speak to me?"
"And what would that accomplish?" She replied, impatiently folding her arms across her chest as he searched for a response.
With a crooked, hopeless smile he replied. 'Why seduction of course."
She refrained from giggling. "By loomin' about me an' actin' creepy? Oh feign I believe I'll be swoonin' now." She replied sarcastically.
"BAH!" Was his retort before he disappeared. Wooing the lass would be harder than he'd expected and he needed a better plan. For now he would content himself with making certain that the farm boy did not get too close to what was his. He ducked into the brambling shadows as she made her way to the solstice, the smell of stews and roasting meats taking him back to his master's halls. How he loved revalry.
As Xander reminisced Magalea had spirited her way into the crowd. The surrounding bodies made it warm enough to abandon her cloak, but before she did so she checked her weapons, shifting them to various places within her dress before draping it over her arm. She'd chosen a forest green dress that showed an unforgiveable amount of cleavage and had pretty silver flowers embroidered on the bodice and hem. Her dark curls had been chignon with silver ribbons as well, catching the light from the fire as her golden eyes roamed the crowd in search of Dyson.
Martin found her first. He was a tall thin lad, just back from the front lines in England, his eyes telling all too much what he'd seen. He had the stare and silence of the soldier he was, but as he swept up to her his hard face softened a bit. Nodding to her and then the drink table she smiled and walked with him in silence. She decided on the cider and sipped it slowly, letting the warmth sink into her bones. Martin had taken the long way as not to be seen with her too swiftly and was picking his way through the crowd, refilling his tankard of ale as he went. "Fancy meetin' ye here Mags."
She shrugged, "I do liek a good party now n' t'en." Sipping her cider with a smile she commented further.
"Quite the turnout t'is year."
"Aye t'is." Martin agreed. He looked down at his ale, stirring it a bit for something to do to bide his time and raise his courage. "Care fer a dance?"
"Aye, s'pose I will." She replied, setting down her mug. As Martin led her to the floor people began to notice the gypsy amongst them. The murmurs had begun, but only to a low degree and she ignored them. Martin was rather light on his feet and she was enjoying the jig laughing at some jokes he was telling. It was nice to see him outside the field, where he was far sillier.
At the sound of Magalea's laughter Dyson looked out to the crowd. His face grew grim when he saw that she was dancing with Martin Arowyn and looking lovlier than any other lass in attendance. He did his best to keep his temper in check despite the fact that every fiber of his being was screaming to rip her from his arms and commence wooing her in his stead. With furrowed brow he watched the two as he discussed plans for the next operation with the good Father Reighleigh. When the time was right he cleared his throat, "If you'll excuse me father there's some buisness I need ta be tendin' ta."
"But of course my son, be well." The preist replied, dismissing him with a wave.
Dyson's temper was peaking as he picked his way through the dancers toward Magalea and Martin. He composed himself before tapping his fellow soldier on the shoulder. "Can I be cuttin' in?"
Martin considered it a moment, a puckish glint in his eye at the look on Dyson's face. A look that if it could accomplish its goal would end in Martin in a meat grinder legs first, with his hands cut off for touching Maggie. "If the lass says aye." He finally said
. Maggie sighed, "Oh aye, t'would be a rude t'ing not ta." She said with a smile.
Martin bowed low and kissed her hand. "Until we meet again." He grinned over at Dyson, gauging his temper by the red of his ears and the murder in his eyes, which had been his intent all along.
In response Maggie blushed and dropped a clumsy curtsy, the custom being one she did not use often. “Aye until we meet again."
It was the work of a moment before she was swept furiously into Dyson's arms. She blinked, a bit alarmed, but in time he began to relax as they moved to the slow tempo of the music. It was very different from the merry jig she and Martin had just danced, which was fitting for there was little humor to the man before her. "What's on wit' ye t'is evenin'?" She asked in a whisper.
"Nothin' 'tall Mags." He whispered in return, his breath brushing her cheek.
"You lie to me Dyson Mahoney."
"You look lovely in that dress." He said in an attempt at a Segway.
Her cheeks grew crimson and her eyes lowered, as if she were trying to hide her face in her hair out of habit. "Thank you." She whispered shyly.
They danced in silence for a time, neither really knowing what to say to the other, each stealing shy glances when they thought the other wasn't looking. Abruptly a stone hit her in the back of the head and she furrowed her brow as she rubbed the spot, muttering about silly children. Suddenly she noted that couples around them had moved away, making signs to ward off the evil eye. The expression on Dyson's face darkened, and she knew that he was about to do something very stupid.
"I shouldna have come, I'll just be goin' Dy." She said, trying to distract his simmering temper before it boiled over.
He looked on her as kindly as his dark mood would allow, "Ye needna go yet lass. If any o' t'ese people try a t'ing I'll take care o' it fer ya." His expression suggested he would be glad to do it as well.
"I'll not be puttin' ye in harm’s way on my accord Dyson Mahoney I'll simply be goin'." She said with finality.
As she tried to pull away his arm gripped her waist like a vice, and she thought to step on his foot as she looked up at him puzzled. His grey eyes glittered and a grin spread across his grim face as he spun her 'round and brought her back into his arms. "Leave now and they win." He said curtly.
This fact she could not dispute, and she was in the arms of a handsome farmer at any rate, so complaining would be the daft thing to do. "So what is your true purpose for havin' me here tonight?" She asked with a small smile.
"Ach, you wound me lassie!" He exclaimed as they came together once again.
With raised brow she retorted, "I saw the good father slip away just moments ago." She whispered in his ear as he pressed his cheek to hers, the stubble on his cheek tickling hers a bit. "T'is a queer t'ing ta be seein' a priest at a solstice party isna?"
He chuckled darkly, the sound making her knees go weak. "Oh all in time Mags, can we be enjoyin' ourselves a bit first?"
She smiled up at him, a twinkle in her golden eyes. "Per-" Her reply was cut short when a rock the size of a fist caught her on the leg, dropping her from Dyson's arms. She looked on him in that moment with fear in her eyes as she dropped to the cold, snowy ground.
From the crowd cries of gypsy w***e and evil harlot rang as more rocks came flying at her. Dyson shielded her from what he could, diving to protect her face and the front of her body so that nothing vital was hit. When the folly stopped he growled to her. "Maggie love, RUN." And as she rose on wobbly legs he turned to the crowd. “Who dares be hurtin' the lady?"
A group of townsmen stepped up to him as Magalea began backing away. "Tha's no a lady, nothin' but a gypsy w***e Dyson, now step aside." Their leader said. "We've need ta be disposin' o' the evil little creature."
Dyson cracked his neck, not even trying to argue, his anger such that he had no words left. With rolled up sleeves he launched himself at the group, lost in a fray of bodies. "Dyson!" She called, trying to get into the fray herself but finding no opening to be had. Torn between self-preservation and assisting her raiding partner and secret love she fled from the solstice on lightning legs, her chest aching with worry with every step.
As night blanketed the traveler camp the men of the band made a grand bonfire. Form dusk the music and drink flowed freely as young and old alike chattered with glee at the prospect of the coming wedding. The bride was beaming as she was pulled away by aunts and cousins with advice and favors for the young girl of 13. Each bore some small look of worry as they spoke with her, knowing that the trials of a new bride were hard ones. It was a thing never spoken of though, and each sent up prayers that her husband would be good to her.
Magalea slipped from the forest without notice, perching in her usual place. She'd let her disheveled hair down to flow over her and hide her more prominent bruises and wrapped herself in the shawl of her mystery suitor. She searched from afar for any sign of him but the trouble was that traveling troupes were so very far apart that it was difficult to know everyone.
Saro crept up, tapping her on the shoulder. Magalea turned with a grimance. "Oh hi Sar." She said wearily.
Saro smiled at her, sleeping babe in arms, and whispered, "So what mischief have ya gotten into t'is evening?"
Magalea recounted the solstice to Saro, except the ruined dance with Dyson saying instead that they had had a discussion with the good father and she'd departed. Those moments in Dyson's arms had been private ones with the same unspoken things looming between them that both were too stubborn to say. She sent a silent prayer to the Green Man that he would be safe and that he was alright.
"Not joining the party I take it?" Saro asked after a silence fell.
With a sigh Maggie uncurled stiffly from her perch. "Oh aye, s'pose I will."
"Any glimpse of your mystery suitor?"
"If I'd a glimpse ta work wit' it'd be a bit easier." She grumbled as she stretched, brushing her skirts clean of snow.
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Xander had taken human form at the edge of the forest and fast approached the traveler camp with caution. As a human he appeared rather tall and stocky with coal black hair and mischievous eyes that were somewhere between blue and purple. He had seen many lovely girls so far yet none were his rose. Perhaps she does not care for such parties. He thought. Where should I find her if not here? What shall I say? He growled at his own cowardice. The hand she had lain upon his cheek had caused him to second guess his every action. He grabbed a pint to steady his nerves and with a shake of his head he downed it in one gulp. The human clothing made him feel silly. The woolen breeches were itchy and confining, the collar on his shirt was far too tight and he fidgeted with it constantly. After a time he gave up the silent search and asked someone if they'd seen the girl. The woman he'd asked pointed Xander to the spot at the edge of the crowd that Magalea and Saro had taken, and a puckish grin grew on his face as at last he found his rose.
The closer Xander got the more he could sense her. She smelled of autumn forests and fey magick, a combination that was an intoxicating ambrosia to his senses. She was still wearing that lovely deep green dress and the woman she was seen with often was intricately plaiting her dark hair to mingle with her curls as Magalea sang softly to the womans babe. The cold had made her cheeks flushed and thoughts raced through his mind on just how well he could warm her. Xander waited for the oppritune moment to ask her to dance. Her friend had left and the song was slow, he was determined to outwit the farmboy and woo her.
With a smile and his best Irish accent he approached her. "S'cuse me lass, would ya care for a dance?"
Maggie blinked and looked around for the other girl he must be talking to. Seeing no one else around she blushed. "Oh aye s'pose I will."
He smiled and doffed his derby, holding out a hand for her. "That's grand. I'm Alister."
She took his hand and let him lead her to the circle of dancers. "Magalea." She replied shyly.
"Ah, such a lovely name befitting a lovely lass." He complimented as he pulled her close. The dance of the travelers is a suggestive thing, nothing like the civil jig she had danced earlier that night.
Alister did as he saw others about them doing, grasping her by the hips, touching, caressing. He was rather enjoying it truth be told, but he saw how shy his partner was, how pure and the fey in him wanted to claim her that very moment as his. But the whispers of those around them when they noticed her dancing made her nervous, and he felt her begin to pull away. "What is amiss lass?" he whispered lustily against her neck as he spun her to face away from him.
"I.....don't often come into the crowds." She whispered breathlessly. "People....are talking."
He spun her by the hips and her hands landed firmly on his shoulders as he ground into her, arousal apparent on his end. A grin spread across his face as he saw those beautiful golden eyes pop wide in surprise. "Now why would a lovely lass such as yourself be hidin' in the shadows?" He asked, the sweet honey of seduction in his voice making her blush. The urge to kiss her almost overrode him, but the hand she'd dealt him earlier kept him in check. Instead he looked her over. “That’s a lovely shawl."
"Thank you it was a gift." She said with a small smile, lowering her eyes.
“Ah, so you've a lad then?" He asked with feigned curiosity.
She thought for a moment, biting her lower lip in contemplation. "Not exactly. More of a secret suitor."
A puckish grin once more played on they fey's face as he thought over whether to tell her or not. "He must be a rather shy lad ta be hidin' from one so fair."
"Alister you flatter too much." She said meekly, blushing once more.
They talked a while of nothing in particular at some point Magalea slipping away from him as other traveler girls began dancing with him. He grinned, knowing exactly what to do and a plan formed for Alister to reveal himself at last to his rose.