Les Delices
Bastien had been wandering the rainy trenches of the Vallée de Chênes for nearly a week, and by the time he stopped to set up his camp not an inch of him was dry and hadn't been for two days. Such a state is likely to make even the most intrepid traveler uncomfortable, but for Bastien this was tantamount to the utmost torture. His life mere weeks ago had been one of pampering and sumptuous luxury in the Court of Light as an ambassador for the Licornes. Not a nation in their own right, his people were far too scattered across the various kingdoms to claim any one piece of land as their own, and many of them not so secretly felt that all belonged to them. Their arrogance was tolerated for several reasons - their knowledge of the lands was a blessing to cartographers and traders, and their free passage made them excellent spies. Their magical abilities too were sought after, and indeed having a young Licorne noble to foster in one's court was considered the height of sophistication.
Bastien had been one such foster, given over to the Court of Light at a young age and raised there by an elven nanny. In point of fact, the ways and manner of the fairy court was all that he knew and understood, and all other ways of being seemed simply barbaric. How could the perfection of lace, satin, marble, wine, and silver ever be bested? It simply could not, in his opinion. Sadly for him, an upset in the line of succession due to a mishap during a boar hunt had changed everything. He'd been sent packing immediately, the mood of the court suddenly growing insular and xenophobic in the extreme. Despite his pointed ears and fair looks, the snowy whiteness of his long and silken hair, the ice-blue diamond on his brow, and his golden irises made him stand out as a different creature altogether.
"What a most disagreeable day" the young man grumbled as he collected soggy sticks and twigs to a clear spot beneath an oak tree. He'd been taught some basic survival skills by his nanny, but not having even thought about them in fifteen years, well, this wandering exile had been an exercise in discomfort and annoyance. With the wood propped up in the way he thought he remembered it should be, he stood ready and waved his slender hand towards the waiting, wet fuel. Nothing happened at the first pass, nor the second, and he frowned and stepped closer, glaring at the wood as he gestured to it. He could feel the spell slither along his skin and leap out towards the wood, but it just wasn't catching.
He grit his teeth and balled up his fists, tugging his pack from his back and dropping it onto the ground. Unburdened, he cast the spell again and again, eventually standing directly over the wood. Finally, in a fit of great displeasure, he roughly shoved both hands at once towards the wood, and only then did the fire come to light. The burst of light and heat nearly between his legs caught him off guard so viciously that he cried out and startled backwards, eventually falling hard on his ass and elbows. "Fuck..." he groaned, but the sight of the crackling fire did offer some small comfort to his ego.
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Perhaps an hour later, Bastien was lounging by the fire beneath the shelter of the oak tree. Rain still poured down from the heavens, but in his small sheltered area of firelight he was almost comfortable. His shirts and trousers were strung up on a line to dry, and he kept himself warm with a blanket, reading a book. A small pouch with dried fruits and nuts rested within easy reach, and every so often he'd reach inside it to pluck out an almond or a dried currant.
Suddenly a gust of wind blasted into the shelter beneath the tree, ripping the drying clothing from its line. Sparks and burning bits of wood flew past him as he hid beneath his blanket, fizzling out on the bare dirt. Shocked and breathless, Bastien peered out from beneath his woolen shelter to see an agitated Licorne in her natural state canter into his camp site to examine it. Her legs were slender and cervine, down to her cloven hooves, and her tail was leonine, tufted in white cirrus at the end. Her body was whippet thin and arched, always ready to spring into movement, and her slender neck led to an elegant head with slitted nostrils, copper eyes, and delicately pointed ears. A spiraled, slender ivory horn stood out from her brow proudly like a stiletto dagger blade, both beautiful and menacing all at once.
Without warning she turned towards his blanket and stamped her foot, snorting once. "Come out from there!" she demanded, her mouth just as able to speak as any elf at court.
Bastien swallowed. "You've scattered my clothing. I'd be naked!"
The licorne sniffed, flicking an ear. "And?"
"And it's crass to be unclo..."
"COME OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!" she bellowed, and Bastien scrambled out from his shelter to stand miserably in the dying light of the failing, scattered embers. His body was slender, not quite as filled out as an elven man of his age, but he'd never been passed over by the ladies for frailty. However, he positively wilted beneath the licorne's stern gaze, until at last she said, "Adopt a proper shape."
He blinked. "I, what?"
She snorted, trotting over to him with annoyance. "This body is wrong. Put on a proper shape. You are licorne, are you not?"
Bastien rubbed at his upper arm. "Yes, of course. But..."
The licorne stared at him, flicking an ear. She was only slightly bigger than a deer, and her eyes were just at the right to look directly into his. "But what? Were you not properly taught by..." she leaned forward and sniffed at the blanket, then raised her head to him again, her ears folding back as she narrowed her eyes in displeasure. "Elves. You were fostered by elves. No wonder you're such a fool." Much to his surprise, she turned away and began to walk away from his camp, only calling back over her shoulder, "Put out your fire and get out of my forest before dawn."
Bastien swallowed, his cheeks flushed. He'd never met another creature like himself since he'd been sent to court, and before then he'd been far too young to really remember how beautiful they were. Only remembering his nudity just then, he grit his teeth and winced, then ran off to find his scattered clothing. They were passably dry, and he tugged on a white tunic and black pants and boots, stuffing the rest in his pack. The remaining embers he stamped out or buried, and then he tugged on his pack and ran into the forest the way the licorne had just gone.
Finding her wasn't difficult. He'd always had an interest in hunting and tracking, and he could read the signs of her passage, minimal as they were. In his element and fascinated, he hardly noticed the cold and damp of night. Her path took him up the valley's steep side, and he was surprised to see an abandoned castle. Perhaps a modest getaway from ages past, the outside didn't look too decrepit. Bastien wasn't sure where the licorne had gone, but with his breath now steaming on the cold night air, he decided to take shelter within. Would she be mad? Not if he left before dawn, and he would make sure that he did.
The front door was barred from within, but one of the windows at ground level was broken. He carefully climbed inside, taking a look around at what he could. Moonlight streamed in, sending bars of blue and silver light to illuminate a utilitarian aesthetic. When he gestured at the sconces on the walls, they took light immediately. The interior, chilly without anyone to keep the fires lit, only grudgingly warmed as he explored, eventually settling on a bedroom that was in good condition, dry and clean.
He made a point to secure the bedroom door and the window as well as he could against unwanted visitors before he undressed for bed, and the magic of simply being in a decent shelter for the first time in a week hit him hard. Sleep fell upon him almost as soon as he crawled under the covers.
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When he next opened his eyes, the sun was well up in the sky, the golden light filtering in through the window. Bastien stretched, then gasped and sat bolt upright in bed. She'd told him to be out of her forest by dawn, and he was still in it. What would the licorne do if she caught him? He fretted and chewed on his thumbnail a moment, hugging his knees. What was he to do? He'd been cast out from court, he had no relations to speak of, no destination, and no money. Really, this was the first time he began to worry about it all, and he grimaced as he slipped out of bed and pulled on his clothes.
He kept fretting even as he wandered to the castle's privy and had his morning piss, then kept on fretting as he explored the kitchens and found the larders to be barren. The armory had a beautiful set of archery equipment, and he pulled down a bow, quiver, and a set of arrows for himself, determined to at least find a hare or a pigeon for himself. Armed and prepared, he slipped out a back door and into the woods, keeping as quiet as he could as he listened to the birds in the trees. Very slowly he pulled an arrow from the quiver at his hip and notched it, then narrowed his eyes as he drew the string back and clicked his tongue.
The bird, a fat pigeon, looked at him and froze, its feathers fluffing just a little. It hardly moved even as he let the arrow fly, and the dart hit its mark in the bird's chest. The other birds turned to look, and one by one he locked eyes with them and commanded them to stay still and wait for his arrows. He didn't take too many - only four - and once the last was felled he collected them on a line and draped that over his shoulder. They would make excellent eating when roasted, and that was his plan.
Well, right up until he returned to the castle and saw the licorne standing before the back entrance he'd used. He stiffened, was about to offer some means of explanation, but then pulled the bow from his shoulder and notched an arrow, aiming at the licorne's heart. "Let me by. Please."
She snorted. "I told you to leave. I commanded you to leave, but you refused. This is my forest and I will not condone fires or poaching."
He braced his feet, holding his breath and aiming, preparing to loose his shot. And then, slowly, his arms moved, tilting the bow until the arrow's point was pressed to the soft flesh beneath his jaw. Bastien whimpered, feeling his hands and arms gripping and straining as she controlled them with her magic, and he swallowed. "I'm sorry! I... I have nowhere to go. Please have mercy on me."
The licorne narrowed her eyes, and Bastien closed his, shivering. All at once his arms released their hold, and the arrow whined up past his head, just brushing past his cheek. He dropped the bow and fell to his knees, sliding his hands up into his hair as he panted with fear. He'd nearly died! What had possessed him to point a weapon at her?! How stupid!
"Did your elves cast you out?" she asked dismissively, then paused as he nodded miserably, hugging his arms around his chest. "I'm sorry," she said softly, her ears folding back. "You have no family to go back to?" He shook his head, and she dipped her own, grimacing at her own boorish demands from last night. The dirt beneath her hooves shifted and grit softly as she turned away from him to regard the castle. "You may stay here, if you like. I won't chase you off." She felt so terribly awkward that she walked away without a word, leaving the young man kneeling and shaking.
