Caitlin awoke to the sound of bubbling, rippling water. It took her a while to identify the sound...
a stream
...
Then the pain hit her, and she moaned involuntarily, curling herself up into a ball. This made her wince, as her tender skin dragged over sandy earth.
Everything ached, and as she blinked her eyes slowly open to the bright daylight, she could see that she was naked, covered in bloody cuts and dark bruises that marred the creamy white of her soft skin.
...why am I still alive...
she thought to herself, gingerly dragging herself onto all fours.
She was on the bank of a stream, the shelving beach she crouched on formed in opposition to the overhang cut out of the grassy bank across the stream, as it wound its way through the woods.
Caitlin staggered to her feet, her utter mortification at her unclothed state only just outweighed by her need to find some kind of help in this unfamiliar place.
It was then that she heard a soft voice, only just discernible over the inane babble of the stream, singing. She stood there, swaying, for a moment, torn between the recollection of the last time she followed such a song, and the faint hope that the singer might be able to provide some aid.
In the end, she gave in, following the course of the shallow stream, between deep-cut banks, the cool water soothing on her scratched and bloody feet. As she grew nearer to the source of the singing, she began to see bubbles floating downstream towards her, from the direction of that voice. One frothy white clump brushed by her ankle, and she winced as the soap stung in her scratches.
The voice was getting louder now, as though the unseen singer recognised that she had an audience, and Caitlin began to make out the words of her song.
"...they setten down all three,
Under a faire impe tree.
That faire quene...
...and slepe upon y grene..."
Yet again, she recognised some of the words, but the song still made no sense to her, though it was beautiful.
As she rounded a corner of the stream, she caught a glimpse of white on the opposite bank, and drew back sharply before she could be seen. Peering through the roots of a tree that grew high up above her, overhanging the stream, Caitlin saw a young woman, dressed in a flowing green gown of an archaic style, apparently engaged in washing her laundry in a little pool aside from the main flow of the stream.
She was beautiful- chestnut hair cascaded in glossy curls down her back, well below her waist, and as she lifted her head, wringing out whatever garment she was washing, Caitlin noticed her full lips, the colour of old English roses, and the palest hint of pink in her cheeks.
Then her eye was caught by a splash of colour, dripping from the pristine linen that the maiden held in her white hands.
Blood, dripping down into the stream, and mingling with the bubbles drifting towards her, turning them pink. She edged away, closer into the warm damp earth of the overhanging bank, loath to let that stream of bloody water touch even her feet. She tried to do it silently, but her hand, reaching out for support from the tree-roots behind her, knocked loose a clod of earth, which splashed into the stream with a loud
gloop
.
The lady in the green dress looked up, revealing startling eyes, the same bright hue as her gown, under full, sweeping lashes.
Dropping the half-washed garment in her hands, she rose swiftly, stepping sure-footed through the rippling water without bothering to lift the hem of her lovely dress, which floated around her in graceful folds.
Caitlin shrank back into the relative shelter of the tree roots, praying she would not be noticed, suddenly certain that she would get no aid from this beautiful creature.
She was not in luck, and soon found herself gazing into those deep emerald eyes.
"Now, what have we here...?" the woman murmured, taking a firm hold on Caitlin's arm and pulling her gently out into the sunlight. The girl tried to resist, but the grip on her bruised arm hurt too much to struggle for long, so she stood up straight, doing her best to ignore the fact that she was naked and bloody and bruised, and met the woman's gaze.
"...mortal?" The perfect, rose-pink lips curled into what would have been called a smile, had it reached her eyes. "The stromkarl said he'd sung down a pretty little thing for his nixie cousins. They must have enjoyed you..."
Caitlin felt a soft finger brush over her breast, flicking over a nipple stiff from exposure and embarrassment, and winced.
"...they don't normally leave them alive."
Suddenly she laughed, and Caitlin caught a glimpse of sharp, white teeth as the woman turned, pulling Caitlin with her. The girl almost overbalanced, but caught herself in time, stumbling on the streambed after this strange creature.
"Come along dear, you can't wander around the forest looking like that. Someone might take it as an invitation. Luckily for you I'm in a benevolent mood today."
They turned the corner, and Caitlin saw that behind the washing pool was a snug cave, the opening draped with green velvet curtains embroidered in gold. The woman had released her arm to pull back one drape, and Caitlin hung back, somehow wary, but the cave interior did not seem at all sinister. There was a comfortable-looking bed set in a little alcove in the stone, and more bright hangings were draped around the sizeable room, making it feel more like the inside of a gypsy caravan than a hole in a hill.
A small brazier obviously provided warmth on cooler nights, but there were no cooking implements or food to be seen.
Caitlin stepped inside, warily, and sighed suddenly as her sore and aching feet sank into the warm comfort of a soft, sheepskin rug.
Now sat on the bed, the green-eyed woman beckoned, smiling.
"Come, sweetling, you'll have to trust me."
"...Why?" It was the first word Caitlin had spoken in this beautiful, alien place, and it nearly came out as a croak- her throat was raw from silent screams and breathing water.
"...what are you going to do with me?"
Sighing in a slightly exasperated tone, the woman stood, stepping forward to meet Caitlin, her shoes clicking on the stone floor.
"I'm going to make you well, dearling, if you'll only let me. I told you, I'm in a benevolent mood today." She flashed the girl a brilliant, razor-sharp smile, and before Caitlin could move, had dipped her head to a deep gash in the girl's shoulder, and licked at the wound.
Caitlin cried out in alarm, and leaped back, stumbling on the rug as it shifted beneath her...as the pain in her shoulder numbed and faded.
She landed hard on the floor, and whimpered as it brought a fresh wave of pain through her side. Looking up, she found those startling green eyes gazing down at her.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
She lowered her head once more to run her soft, warm tongue down the scratches in Caitlin's right arm, and as she did so, bruises faded, and the smaller wounds healed outright, leaving blissful...nothing... in their wake. The girl sighed as the pain melted away, and she sank into the soft curls of the rug beneath her.
And as the pain disappeared, that warm, damp tongue licking down her arms, down her legs, over her scratched ribs and mauled breasts, it began to leave a sensation that was quite different...
As the faerie's tongue swept over one peaked nipple, Caitlin gasped, eyes snapping open, and she sat up with a start, pushing the creature away.
"Thankyou..." she murmured, hugging her knees, and the faerie woman laughed.
