The Treehouse
Sunlight dappled the picnic bench under the canopy of oak and maple. Breathing in the scent of flowering blackberries, Lael observed their small but growing collection of Fair Folk with affection. Somewhere in her memories before the Long Winter, she recalled a different park, different fae, another lifetime. It was blurred by the mist of the past.
Lavender stood next to her, brown hair loose all the way to curve of her back. This time around the circle, there was more diversity than Lael had ever known in the past: Leprechauns and Flower Faeries, Jackalopes and Mycelia, Gnomes and Kitsune, Dragons and Elementals. They were all so beautiful and sundry.
A breeze tickled the hem of Lavender's skirt flirtatiously, catching Lael's attention from the corner of her eye. Although the Sidhe houses had long since dispersed into the white-out of Winter past, Lael recalled well the passions that were the hallmark of her house. Back then they had taken her in a different direction - now...?
Standing regally aside from the gathering, Lael's toes curled in the grass as the two ladies listened to the jollity of eclectic group. Sap and pine scented the warm air in the mixed forestry of their Kingdom. Summer was unspeakably beautiful here, buzzing with pollen-laden bumbles and glittering streams.
"We did this," Lael kept her voice so that only Lavender could hear. "We
are
doing this, growing it, we
are
the magic." There had been a time when their numbers were so reduced there weren't even two fae to be found in the same place, and those who remembered that time? Even fewer.
One of the younglings swiped a top hat off a Leprechaun and ran round the weathered table with it until he was bid to give back 'or else'.
"Would you like to explore that treehouse back there with me?" Lael asked.
Lavender turned her purple eyes toward Lael, mischief curling into a smile on her porcelain face, "Yeaaas, of course." She grinned.
Backing up a few slow steps at a time, Lael reached for Lavender's hand and together they turned and headed toward the woods. Laughter faded into the sound of small bells, and they came upon a felled tree trunk, its roots still cased in clotted dirt. Climbing up the side, they followed along the mossy trunk as it narrowed toward the now-broken canopy of limbs that had long-since crashed into the earth.
There among the empty branches, a nest had been woven as if by a giant wren who had gathered the snapped twigs and forest ephemera to create a cozy enclosure entered only by crawling through a smallish hole in the middle. Inside the two women tumbled, sprawling out on their backs, a fancy woven carpet beneath them.
Around them was no ordinary treehouse. This was furnished with low bookshelves and beanbags. An end-table sported a lamp made of antlers, though where it plugged in was a mystery. A desk to one side sat poised with walnut ink and parchment, ready to receive scratchings from a goose quill.
"This place is beautiful!" Lavender tucked her hands behind her head, elegant arms creating a makeshift pillow. A squirrel tight-roped along a string of colorful paper lanterns criss-crossed above them.
