Marcelia felt fortunate that a family friend, a farmer, was passing by with his cart full of goods. He offered her a ride until she was closer to the Moonlite Maiden's Forest, cutting her travel time significantly. What would have taken her two days on foot became a short half-day ride. As they approached the forest's edge, she thanked him warmly.
"You and your family have always been good to us. It's no trouble at all," he said with a wave, bidding her farewell.
She entered the forest with a confident stride, but it didn't take long for that confidence to wane. The deeper she went, the more the trees seemed to shift around her as if alive, their trunks twisting and blocking her intended path. Soon, every direction looked the same, and a sense of unease settled in.
"You look lost," came a sing-song male voice from behind her, rich with mischief. Startled, Marcelia turned around to find what appeared to be an elf standing before her, though something about him felt… different. His long white hair shimmered in the dappled light, reminding her of moonbeams dancing on water. His long pointed ears were adorned with several intricate piercings, and his golden eyes gleamed like rubies under sunlight.
"I can help you get to where you need to be," the stranger offered, his voice sweet and compelling. "If you give me your name."
Marcelia narrowed her eyes, something inside her prickling with caution. She'd heard enough stories from her father to know better than to give a stranger her name freely.
"I won't give you my name until you give me yours," she said, crossing her arms.
The elf blinked, a playful smile curling on his lips. "Ah, clever girl," he purred, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement. "Then I suppose that means you wish to marry me?"
Marcelia's heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on her. This wasn't an elf standing before her. The playful mannerisms, the almost predatory gleam in his eyes-it was unmistakable. She was speaking with a fae.
As if reading her thoughts, the stranger's grin deepened. The air shimmered around him, his form warping as if reality itself twisted to accommodate his true shape. The illusion of an elf fell away like a veil, revealing his true appearance-still striking, still otherworldly, but unmistakable fae.
Two horns curved from his head like graceful tree branches, and as he shifted his weight, Marcelia noticed that delicate blossoms were blooming from the branches. The flowers seemed to pulse with life, opening in vivid shades of pink and purple, as if responding to his mood.
"Ah, I see you've figured it out," he teased, tilting his head so the flowers swayed gently with the motion. "I'm no elf, my dear. And now, by fae law, you've proposed to me." His tone was a blend of mischief and delight.
Marcelia's eyes widened. "Wait-what? That wasn't what I meant!"
The fae laughed, the sound like wind chimes on a breezy day. "Oh, I knew," he said softly, "but the words have been spoken. You should be more careful when dealing with the fae. Oh, and by the way, my name is Rayner."
"Marcelia Ravenswood," she replied in a haze.
Marcelia sighed as she followed behind Rayner, her cheeks flushed pink with frustration. She couldn't believe how the conversation had turned, but with a fae, she supposed nothing should be too surprising. Yet, explaining her feelings, especially when it came to something so deeply personal, was proving more difficult than she expected. Every time she tried, her tongue seemed to twist, and she stumbled over her words.
"Listen," she began again, her voice catching. "What I meant was… we don't have to… you know, do the whole… marriage thing right away. We could… um."
Rayner glanced over his shoulder, amusement glimmering in his golden eyes, "Could what? Court each other like humans? Learn one another's favorite colors, deepest fears, and all that?" His tone was teasing, there was a genuine curiosity hidden beneath it.
Marcelia's face burned hotter. "Well, yes! Sort of…" She shook her head, feeling her words slipping out faster than her mind could catch them. "What I'm trying to say is that I… I'm demisexual."
Rayner slowed his pace, turning slightly to give her a quizzical look. His horns, which she hadn't even realized were there until the glamour dropped, cast subtle shadows over his pale gray skin, which had taken on a curious flush. "I'm sorry, you'll have to explain that to me."
Marcelia bit her lip, trying to muster her courage. It wasn't that she was ashamed-far from it. It was just hard to explain to someone, especially when they were so new to her life and came from an entirely different world. "It means…" she began, then faltered as her voice wavered. "It means I can't be sexually attracted to someone unless I feel… emotionally attached to them. Like, I can feel desires, but I don't act on them unless there's a connection."
Her eyes darted to the ground, hoping she hadn't made a fool of herself.
Rayner came to a stop just outside the village's borders, turning to face her fully. His pale skin was now a light shade of red, a stark contrast to the light gray of his complexion. His lips parted, but for once, no quip or playful retort emerged. Instead, he seemed momentarily struck by her words, unsure of how to respond.
"You… you take care of those feelings… yourself?" Rayner's question was quiet, tinged with something that could only be described as flustered innocence.
Marcelia's blush deepened. "Y-yes," she stammered, now regretting her bluntness.
Rayner blinked, rubbing the back of her neck as if he processed her words. "That's… well, that's certainly honest."
For the first time, he looked more unsure than she'd ever imagined possible. Gone was his usual air of unshakable confidence, replaced by a kind of endearing awkwardness.
Marcelia let out a relieved breath, the tension loosening in her shoulders. She dared a small smile at him. "I just… want to take things slow. I didn't mean to… propose or anything." She caught his eyes and added with a playful grin of her own, "Not that you aren't handsome or anything. It's just-"
Rayner quickly raised a hand, stopping her before she could dig herself into a deeper hole. "I think I understand what you're trying to say." His expression softened, a hint of his usual playfulness returning as his lips curled into a smirk. "So what you're saying is, I need to win your heart before I can steal anything else?"
She met his gaze, a nervous chuckle escaping her. "Something like that."
His smile grew, and he stepped closer, just enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. The teasing glint returned, but now there was something gentler in his tone. "Well, Marcelia Raveswood," he murmured, his voice soft as a breeze, "I believe you've given me a challenge. And I do love a good challenge."
Marcelia felt her heart flutter as he gazed at her, but this time, it wasn't from embarrassment or confusion. It was the start of something else-a sense of anticipation. Though Rayner's mischievousness was still there, she could see a genuine interest in his eyes, a willingness to understand.
"I suppose we'll have to see how it goes," she said softly, the tension between them easing into something more comfortable.
Rayner stepped back, allowing her a bit of space, though the smile remained on his lips. "Then let's begin, shall we? The village awaits, and I'm sure they could use your healing skills more than my banter." He gestured ahead, allowing her to take the lead.
As they began walking again, Marcelia couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at her lips. Despite the awkwardness and the teasing, she was beginning to feel a spark of hope. Maybe this strange accidental partnership wouldn't be so bad after all.
Marcelia glanced at Rayner, her brow furrowing slightly as something in his word tugged at her mind. How does he know that? she thought. She was sure she haddn't mentioned anything about why she had come to the village. She bit her lip, trying to recall if it had slipped out during their previous conversation, but nothing came to mind.
Rayner, sharp as ever, caught the look on her face. A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"You're wondering how I knew, aren't you?" he asked, casually leaning against a tree. "It's not as mysterious as you might think."
Marcelia crossed her arms, fixing him with a cautious stare. "I never told you why I was coming to the village."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as if the answer were obvious. "The villagers told me." At her confused look, he continued, "Whenever they brought me home-cooked meals, they would chat about the goings-on in the village. Humans, I've discovered, love to gossip almost as much as they love their food."
Marcelia raised an eyebrow. "Brought you meals?"
Rayner nodded, looking unashamed. "Almost every villager in this area is a 'victim' of my name-stealing," he said, placing air quotes around the word victim. "I'd take their names and only give them back if they brought me something to eat. You humans have such delightful foods; I simply couldn't resist."
She blinked, stunned for a moment, before bursting into laughter. "Wait, so you've been extorting them for snacks?"
"Extorting is such a harsh word," Rayner replied, grinning. "I prefer to think of it as… a trade. Names for treats. And honestly, it's become something of a rite of passage around here. They act like losing their names to me is some kind of initiation. Half the time, they give them up willingly, just to see what I'll ask for in return."
Marcelia couldn't help but smirk, shaking her head in disbelief. "And they're happy about it?"
"Oh, they adore it," Rayner said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Especially since they're all excited about the Daughter of Baron Ravenswood is coming to deliver Lucillia's twins. They've been gushing about it for days now. I must admit, it's amusing how much weight your family name carries around here."
Marcelia's face softened slightly at that. She had always taken pride in her work, but hearing that the villagers spoke so fondly of her brought a warmth to her chest. Still, her gaze lingered on Rayner, curiosity gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.
"So… you've been listening to all their stories?" she asked cautiously.
Rayner shrugged nonchalantly, "Hard not to when they're bringing me fresh bread and fruit pies." He paused for a moment, eyes locking with hers. "But no, I wasn't watching you before we met. That would be impolite, don't you think?" He gave her a cheeky wink, his mischievous nature bubbling to the surface again. "I'm not the kind of fae who asks for someone's first born child, after all. Just a snack or two will do."