#tamberlain

There is a point within the northern forest where the storm feels… different. Elain walks through the darkness, relying on the clap of thunder and the wink of lightning to guide her way.

There are wolves in these forests, her guardians had told her.

There are monsters past the Wall, they promised her ominously.

But Elain was not raised on tales of horror and fear. Rather, her heart sings with the fantasy her mother had painted every since she was young. Across the Wall is a secret land of plenty, full of magic, peace and eternal spring. There, the weather is always good and the harvest is always bountiful. Her mother would weave stories of beautiful Lords and brave princesses, and Elain would dream alongside her sisters.

As they grew older, the colours the Archeron sisters used to paint their wishes with became duller and duller. Nesta learned to count capital, instead of wearing a crown made of berrybush. Feyre learned to kill, instead of building a sanctuary in her mind's eye of mighty winged steeds. Unlike them, Elain clings to her hope, her enchantment and her own foolishness.

Not all fools are stupid, you know. Some of them choose wonder.

The storm changes as she steps over a worn stone wall, about knee-height. Like a breath of fresh air sweeps over her, and wakes her right up. The ache in her feet from walking is gone, and the frost on her freckled cheeks ease. Even the colour of her cloak feels alive, blooming from a dark muddy brown into a bright red. Elain wonders at the magic and she knows, she knows she's found the land of the Faeries.

Though the rain refuses to let up, she sees the sun dawning on the horizon. It blazes brighter than she has ever seen at the cusp of the morning, and it moves like smoke through the trees.

Mother would love this, she muses, carrying on her journey without a care in the world. Elain had promised herself when she embarked on this journey—whatever happens, good or bad, she will accept.

Her steps come to a halt when she realized that the sun is barreling towards her like a comet, bouncing between the trees and aptly missing the obstacles in its way. Elain gathers her skirts and runs. She figures if she can just cut across the forest and make it past the light without ever crossing it, she is safe. In her mind, magic and the natural course of things follow a certain law. An arrow cannot suddenly change its course, and neither will this.

Oh, Elain, you better be sure about this, she scolds herself, swinging her arms and her skirts to move as quickly as possible.

Elain turns her head to make sure she and the ball of light have safely passed one another when it stops, briefly, and careens towards her.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

All this work only to die just as she makes it over the Wall? What a terrible and un-magical fate. Elain breathes deep and keeps going, her eyes glancing over and over to the ball of fire again until—

Nothing.

It's… gone?

Elain stops, craning her head in the direction of the sunfire. Was it all a trick of the eye all along? Perhaps a test of her might by the Faeries to see if she is worthy of entering their lands. Yes, that makes perfect sense.

Suddenly, a suffocating humidity swallows the air around her. Elain gasps, choking for breath. The rain stops briefly, as if devoured by that heat. It lasts but a moment, and by the time she falls to her knees, she can breathe again.

What… was that?

"You dare enter these lands," booms a low, angry voice.

Elain nearly jumps out of her skin, and she does crawl away from the towering figure suddenly at her side. His features are blackened out by the forest and the storm, except for his eyes. His eyes—

His eyes are made of fire.

Her back presses against a tree and she uses it to stand. Standing does not help her case as this man is heads above her. He simply looms over her quivering wet figure.

"W-Well, I got turned around, you see. I mean no harm, I will just be on my merry way," Elain smiles sheepishly, taking a step in the direction she was already heading.

"Turn back," he growls, his eyes flaring with light.

"Pardon me," she whispers kindly and tiptoes away from him.

"You dare ignore me. I will drag you back to the human lands myself."

"You would put your hands on a lady? That's not very gentlemanly of you."

"I am not gentle and I am not a man."

"How unfortunate for you then," Elain says, still walking. "I have come to expect nothing less than disappointment from men. You've set a very high bar for yourself, Lord Sunshine."

"Lord—"

Her banter is a bluff, but it seems to be working, so Elain rolls with it. She pays no mind to him following her. That's his every right, considering that she is the one intruding in his space. If he'll just kindly let her pass, then she'll be out of his hair without complaint. One thing her mother taught her is that she needs to be cleverer than the Faeries she encounters, if ever she finds their home.

The ungentleman grabs her cloak, and Elain is more than happy to pull at the knot at her neck, letting it slip right off her shoulders, leaving the grand shadow standing there in the dark with her bright red cloak. The rain soaks right through her sleeping gown, but she knows once she finds the place of eternal spring, she'll be right as… rain.

"Get back here!" He roars, and begins to chase after her.

Heat presses against her back, drying her nightgown as she runs as fast as she can. The creature lands in front of her, his bright heat searing the side of her arm and she yelps from surprise. Elain screws her face tight, knowing that her instinct is wrong for this, but the upside of her family losing their titles is that she does not need to act like a lady.

Elain launches a kick towards the mysterious figure, right between its legs. He folds immediately, proving himself to be very, very male. Her attack buys her enough time to break out of the forest line and bolt towards the single standing structure in the middle of the rainy field.

***

Beron has never been kicked in the balls before, much less by a human woman. It is extremely unpleasant. He clutches his Autumn jewels, as if that would help dull the pain. Humans should not have that much power.

He tries to stand, but the pain hasn't dulled, so he kneels in the rain breathing through it. With another lord or faerie, he does not need to worry about underhanded tactics such as this. Beron would respect a assassin wielding poison than an opponent that launches their foot into his genitals.

"Fucking Cauldron reject," he hisses, spitting on the existence of humans. Beron can't decide which is more offensive, the fact that a human laid hands on him or that it was a woman.

When he catches her, he's going to kill her and feed her body to his hounds.

***

The manor is huge, much larger than the one her family owned when she was younger. Elain tiptoes around the dark hallways, looking for the kitchen. Her stomach grumbles, giving away her position should that thing follow her.

A small creature peeks its head out from one of the doorways, it regards her with big brown eyes and waves at her. Well, not so much waves, but opens its hand-like paws at her as if to say 'hello' or is it to beckon her closer?

Elain looks around curiously, then heads towards the cute little thing. It guides her down winding steps, towards a faint light at the bottom. Once downstairs, Elain gasps softly, and suppresses a giggle. The light she's seeing is from an owl with glowing eyes that makes the room flicker with its slow blink. It watches over the source of all the clattering—a fat raccoon that looks like he's been caught in the middle of his heist, a very pretty fox with a bushy tail that drops everything it was holding because foxes only ever walk on all fours (right?) and lastly, a long-lashed squirrel that chirps reprimands until it realizes that there is a human in the room.

They all stare at her in shock, but not the little one that led her here. That one holds its hands out in victory, warbling something Elain definitely does not understand.

Then, the screeching starts. All the animals, except the light-owl, seem to be bickering with one another. Elain has no idea what's going on, but she does understand that these creatures are intelligent.

"Wait!" She says over the sound of them and holds her hands out in surrender. "I'm not here to shoo you away. I'm just looking for something to eat."

The animals pause, look between one another and screech some more. This time, not for long. The four of them come up with a plan while the owl oversees their work. Together, they cobble together a plate of food for Elain and then another tray? It's not a particularly pretty plate, but bread and fruit is more than Elain can ask for after appearing so suddenly.

She eats while watching the raccoon fuss about the fruit placement and the fox places a whole, raw fish on the tray. They prepare much more food on the tray than they did for her. Then, the big-eyed, rounded-ear guide that found her motions for Elain to take it.

"Are you making me steal food for you?"

Still, she does not mind, taking the tray into her hands. The animals lead her back up the stairs, and she has to feel her way with each step so she doesn't trip.

Elain follows them towards a room down a long winding hall, and she thinks they're taking her to their nest inside this abandoned manor. Instead, she sees a large bear. No, a large… wolf? She doesn't have the word for the creature she's looking at, but the sheer size of him sends a shiver down her spine. That beast could kill her easily, it could gore her with his large antlers, tear right through her with his fangs or cut her to ribbons with his claws.

The beast raises his head, barely regarding her and the animals, and he sets his head back down. The imperfect pack huddles around him, as if to draw from his warmth or… or to comfort him?

Elain approaches cautiously, setting the tray down in front of him.