Corinne Barnett Collection: The Fairy and the Forest Love
By Corinne Barnett.
Agatha sat in the meadows just outside of Cordor, dejected. A half orc, she was muscular and tall. She had natural beauty, full lips, flowing locks of hair, and a curvaceous body, but despite this, the men of Cordor rejected her. They wanted a petite woman, frail, a thing to be rescued, everything Agatha wasn't.
Agatha sighed and thought aloud, "I wish I could find a man who wanted a woman, not a girl. Who could appreciate, no, who could endure my strength, my body, my splendour. A town man is too frail for my love."
A fairy sleeping in a rose nearby awoke at her words, stretching and fluttering out to see who this wishing woman was.
"Hi hi, was it you that made the wish?" The fairy asked.
"It was, but who are you?" Agatha asked, surprised to see a creature of myth flying before her, and even more surprised at how handsome such a little creature could be. Like a small flying knight, he wore ornate leather armour, and kept a buckler and a sheathed blade by his side.
"I am Annwyl. I heard your wish, do the humans of the city trouble you so?" Annwyl replied, tilting his head to the side slightly, sunlight glimmering off his gossamer wings.
"They do, they seek a frail woman, which I am not. I am a woman of the woods, of strength and height, and I cannot change this. But, how lonely I am, how I long to know the touch of a man." Agatha replied.
"Yes yes, I think I know what you mean. But for answers, you must follow me!" Annwyl replied, quickly snatching away a woodcutting axe strapped to Agatha's belt.
"What are you doing, give that back!" Agatha said, jumping to her feet and chasing after the fairy as he flew off into the woods. How a little fairy could fly so fast while holding an axe twice as big as him was a mystery. Deeper and deeper into the woods Annwyl flew, the overgrowth dimming out the sun. Fortunately Annwyl gave off a faint green glow, allowing Agatha to keep her eyes on him and chase him down.
Agatha continued her chase, until Annwyl seemed to vanish from sight. Confused, she looked around, calling out his name. And to her surprise, another voice called out in reply.
"You there! Are you looking for the fairy? He just dropped something nearby."
Agatha stepped around a bend in the trail, her heart skipping a beat as she saw her mysterious benefactor. He stood at ten feet tall, copper hair loosely tied back with curly strands escaping and framing his face along with a thick beard. An open shirt exposing his muscular form, years of woodwork evident in his form. Most certainly, he was a firbolg of legend, a creature of rugged perfection standing before her.
"Would this happen to be your axe? The fairy dropped it and fled, little pranksters they are." He asked.
"Yes, that is my axe, he took it and flew off, thank you for finding it" Agatha replied, for the first time feeling butterflies in her stomach. She reached out to take her axe, her hand touching his.
"I am Mikkel." He said, giving Agatha a warm smile.
As the weeks passed, Agatha found herself in the forest, frequently visiting Mikkel. The visits were pleasant, the two shared many interests, loving the wilderness and living off the land. And yet the meetings carried an underlying awkwardness of untold feelings.
Until one day, Mikkel reached out and took Agatha's hand, speaking to her in a soft voice, "You are everything I have ever dreamed of, Agatha. A woman strong and able to keep up with me as I walk the woods. Able to withstand the burdens of the forest and surviving it. I think of you every day and night, I must ask, will you be mine?"
"I have dreamed of these words ever since my eyes first gazed upon you. To be with you, here within the serenity of the forest." Agatha said as she brought Mikkel's hand to her chest.
And from within their secluded weald they lived happily, enjoying each other in ways the city could not appreciate.