In the Kingdom of the Dark Forest

The night birds were calling as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, turning the western sky to momentary blaze which quickly gave way to violet hues. The moon had already risen and was not quite full but peered through emerald branches in the south as the late summer breeze whispered the approach of night. Tilly liked to run barefoot through the western field to feel the cool grass beneath her feet as she chased the melodies of the whip-poor-will in the shadows, laughing with pure mirth as the fireflies scattered before her like some kind of displaced fairies. Tonight, she could feel autumn simmering in the moon beams, every leaf touched and shuddering at its approach. She paused for a minute amidst the fescue and rye, closing her eyes while the wind wove stories and songs into her long blonde hair. Uncle Taggart would be displeased if he knew of her twilight jaunts on the property, but she did not care. These moments were precious times of solitude for her, where she could forget her station and join with nature for a moment. She opened her eyes and the fireflies rose around like stars. She wished she could stay longer, but she could not forget herself or the banquet. It was an important night after all: her night, to be precise. Eligible bachelors had traveled from all around the nine kingdoms to seek her courtship. She was expected to dance and to choose that very night, a task which she deemed quite impossible given the time constraints. But, the sooner she decided, the sooner she could move forward. She only hoped a suitable candidate would cross her doorstep that evening. She picked up the hem of her dress and prepared to march forward. Something rustled in the sumac and witch hazel and she turned her head at the sound. “Hello?” The rustling came again, not far away this time. “Who’s there?” She asked the shadows which seemed to loom menacingly above her even as the stars began to appear in the deep skies above. The rustling came again but was accompanied by a low growl this time. Two pale eyes winked into existence as a great beast emerged from the woods. She could not quite determine the shape, but did not fancy being eaten and so with a gasp, picked up her skirts again and ran in the direction of her discarded boots, which was consequently also where she had stowed her dagger. She could hear the beast plummeting after her through the grass, but did not dare glance back. Her heart pounded as she skittered onto the path and was knocked over as another dark shape whisked by from the other direction. Whatever happened, happened rather quickly as she did not even have the time to get up. She heard a yelp followed by a limping retreat. Then a figure on a dark stallion came riding out of the field, dismounting immediately and falling to her side to offer a hand.  The rising moonlight revealed a young man in a traveler’s cloak, his hat shielding much of his face except for eyes which seemed to catch every aspect of the moon in one faint glimmer. “Are you quite all right?” Asked the stranger. Tilly took his hand and he helped her up. His hand was warm and grip was quite strong. As she balanced on her feet, she was met with an odd cascade of perfumes from the stranger consisting of leather, musk, and cloves. “Yes, I think so! By the graces, I do believe you have saved me this night!” She laughed nervously. “You have my thanks!” “It was nothing but simple fortune I have crossed your path,” he half-bowed. His voice was deep and proper, soothing like a dark river. “Tilly; you may call me Tilly,” she noticed the stranger still had command of her hand. She was not about to begin with formal introductions, knowing what kinds of rumors could result from such a clandestine meeting. “Tilly,” he repeated, then lowered his lips to kiss her hand, “I believe you are safe now. May I escort you to your destination?” Tilly blushed and answered quickly, “No, no thank you! I know my way from here, and it is not far.” She pulled her hand away, the smell of the grass and flowers wafting about them. “You came out here alone,” he commented. Even in the darkness, she could tell he was staring at her purposefully, as if he knew something. His head was angled downward in a stern fashion. “I do that sometimes,” she shrugged. She wanted to hear his name, but wanted to avoid scandal far more. “It was nice to meet you! Thank you again, I’m in an awful hurry!” She picked up her dress and continued running in the direction of her boots, even as the stranger uttered a soft, “wait”. Although she would have liked a moment to ruminate upon her near-death encounter and fated rescue, she was due at the castle and needed to do a bit more than a simple powdering of the nose. Sweeping up her boots from the stone wall, she hastened through the rear gardens swift as a swallow past the servants, expertly navigating the hedges and dogwoods, up the back tower steps past the closing daylilies, blustering through the cherrywood doors of her chambers and nearly colliding with her chambermaid in doing so. “Miss!” Exclaimed Elyse the maid, who was balancing a silver tray of cosmetics and perfumes. “Sorry Elyse!” Tilly dropped her boots by the bed, flopping into the pillows with a forcible exhale. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Your uncle’s about to have a fit!” Elyse placed the tray on the dresser, smoothing the folds of her white apron and turning a scrutinizing blue gaze upon her charge. “You didn’t tell him anything, did you?” Tilly’s eyes widened in concern as she turned on her side to observe the maid. Elyse pursed her dry lips. “I told him you were likely dallying about the library again. Now--” “--Thank you Elyse, thank you!” Tilly clasped her hands together in relief, rolling to her feet. “Can we continue to the matter at hand? There is a banquet and a ball about to start and you are still in your day dress! We must get you ready!” Elyse snapped her fingers. “Now did you decide if you would like to wear the blue or the lavender gown tonight?” “I would like to wear the scarlet frock with the gold lace,” Tilly stated. She and Elyse had argued about dress options earlier in the month and how certain colors sent certain messages. The compromise at the time had been for Tilly to choose between the blue or the lavender but since that time, her heart craved wildness. Elyse huffed, “Red is such an aggressive color! It looks like a warning sign, not a welcome mat.” “Perhaps that is the message I would like to send. Any man who can endure the visual wrath of my fashion choices is surely worthy of my hand,” Tilly joked, unlacing her day dress and raising her eyebrows. “Hold your tongue!” Elyse shook her head and opened the wardrobe, pausing to survey the options. Tilly fell over the bed trying to undo the last lacing loops, but finally freed herself, joining Elyse at the wardrobe. “When you look at the options, what stands out most to you?” Tilly asked. “Honestly, the white one, my lady,” Elyse responded. Tilly scoffed. “I won’t come across as so virginal. I am a young woman, not a child.” She reached out and grabbed the scarlet gown, holding it up to her shoulder. “Tell me it isn’t the most exquisite option?” Elyse sighed. After a great deal of fuss and preening, Tilly made her entrance to the banquet arrayed in scarlet velvet and amber jewels, glistening by thousands of candles like the queen she was destined to be. At the top of the stairs, her name was called, “Princess Mathilde Anita Hergestrom, Daughter of the late King Harold Edward Hergestrom.” She had been trained all of her life for the moment, to descend the staircase like an angel, gliding with not a trace of humanity in her step, and to look upon every man with wanton kindness and a smile. She hated all of it, and potentially hated all of them. Like a good little actress, she made her way to the head of the table with all eyes on her as though she were some kind of prized doe. Her instinct was to run and hide, yet every bit of training insisted the opposite. She took the seat by her uncle, glancing over the sea of eligible men, hoping at least one of them would prove to not be a complete dullard. “I know you’re unhappy,” muttered her uncle, his well-groomed beard looking quite severe, “But do try to uphold tonight’s traditions.” “I make no promises,” Tilly muttered back, raising her glass to the room. “Please! Drink, and be merry!” The room expressed gratitude and feasting began. Feasting was the easy part as it required no interaction except for that between her and the food on her plate. But feasting was soon followed by dancing, which was in-and-of-itself a joyous activity but in this particular setting required a level of pomp and circumstance that more or less ruined the joy. “Lord Grayson...Prince Henry...Baron von Eissen...Viscount Anod...Lord Fray…” The list seemed to go on for eternity, every visage a new scrutinizing set of eyes. She felt like a farm animal. Every introduction bore a new level of tedium which made her want to tear her hair out. Her mind drifted to earlier adventures. She wondered if she might ever cross paths with that traveler again? He seemed more intriguing than this parade of princes, dukes, viscounts, and barons. Every carola and quadrille was expressionless for her yet simultaneously dizzying to the point that she needed a breath of fresh air, and excused herself to the garden for a break while the orchestra played on. The garden was thankfully quiet, which was good for her mind. A few torches were lit giving the place an eerie glow while the moon cast haunting shadows across every stepping stone. She closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to recount names, but none of them meant anything to her. South Kingdom, Southeast Kingdom, West Kingdom--Tristown, Londsville, Port-au-fleur--she had only read of such places in her books. “A princess alone in a garden, on a most important night,” came a voice which was unmistakably the same as the stranger’s from earlier. She opened her eyes and saw him a short distance away, shadowed by a nearby hedge. “You again!” She exclaimed. “Me again,” he replied, his shadow nodding, “No wonder why you were in such a rush. You didn’t tell me who you were.”  “Ah, that seemed rather inconsequential,” she explained, “Besides, it could have been most scandalous.” “As scandalous as a man and a woman alone in a garden at night?” He asked, a hint of mirth in his tone. “Ah, but we are not alone. The moon, the stars, and the whole of nature is present,” Tilly gestured. The stranger laughed, “Princess, you do amuse.” “Tilly is just fine,” she interjected. “Not one for formalities, are you?” He maintained his place amongst the shadows, which was a bit maddening for Tilly. She had yet to see his face or even to acquire his name. “You’re one to talk, you have not even given me your name,” she tilted her head to the left in inquisition. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, you hardly gave me the opportunity to do so,” he crossed his arms, the feathers on his hat fluttering in the night air. The distinct scent of jasmine delighted Tilly’s nostrils; she did so love the garden. “Well, I’m giving you the opportunity now,” Tilly clapped her hands, moving down the stairs to the courtyard, “So come, what do I call my rescuer?” “You may call me Elric, your majesty,” he removed his hat and bowed from the shadows. “And has Elric a face, or a title?” She asked, taking out her hand fan for no other reason than being fidgety. It was after all not warm outside in the least. It was pleasantly cool. “Aye, both, and many,” there was a smile in his voice. “Cryptic,” she commented, flipping her fan shut and strolling further in his direction, “You are aware, I am to choose a prospective husband tonight.” “Is that what all of the fuss is about? And here I thought we were celebrating the defeat of the Spanish Armada,” Elric had replaced his hat and disappeared behind a hedge. “Oh you’ll make a jester of me, yet,” Tilly rounded the hedge and he was nowhere to be found. She sighed, not being of the mind for games. “I was going to say, you are the most intriguing person to turn up on my doorstep this night, but it remains to be seen if you meet even the most minimum qualifications for the position.” “I assure you--” His voice came in her ear and she whirled around with a gasp. “Positions is something I exceed qualifications in.” Tilly could see him now, and he was as storybooks might say, devastatingly handsome. His face was carved with only the most pleasing of angles, with the hint of a beard and moustache creating a kind of enticing shadow around his lips. His eyes contained shades of moonlight still, although it was unclear what color they were at that time. His travel cloak had been exchanged for a rather exquisite brocade doublet trimmed in silver. She blinked, realizing she had been staring. “You turned the phrase,” she said softly, unsure of what else to say, taken off-guard. “I could turn so many other things,” he inched closer. She did not back away. She barely breathed, but she could feel her heart racing. It was not something she could say she had experienced with a man before, and there was a hope in her that perhaps the night would not be wasted after all.  “Tell me your title,” she whispered, her lips trembling and wanting. Elric’s fingers caught a strand of her hair, hesitant lips moving to her ear, “King of the Dark Forest.” Tilly pulled from his grasp, “The Dark Forest?” The man must have been a fraud. “There is no such place.” Her heart sank. “Ah, but your highness, there is such a place,” he replied, voice smooth and inviting. “I know of every realm in the nine kingdoms,” she stated, “And “the Dark Forest” is not among them.” “With all due respect, my lady, you are mistaken,” Elric tipped his hat, the silver trims on his doublet glittering in the firelight. “It is just my luck! The most dashing and interesting man at my banquet is a trickster!” Tilly turned her back on him and began to walk back towards the stairs, feeling dismayed and betrayed by the universe. “I’ve been called that before, but I assure you, I am a king,” he insisted. “I have never heard mention of a King Elric of the Dark Forest,” Tilly turned back to him curtly, “And if you were a king, how come you were not inside for introductions?” “That’s simple. I was not invited,” shrugged ‘King’ Elric. “Not invited!” Tilly huffed, “Further proof that you are not a king! Every man in these parts eligible for marriage has been invited.” “By the graces, woman!” Elric exclaimed in exasperation. “Is your world so small that only the nine kingdoms in your history books are the ones your court recognizes as legitimate? I assure you, the Dark Forest is a very real and dangerous place. I would know, as I am its ruler! Earlier when we met, I thought for certain I had finally after all of these years met a woman who was not so victimized by her station, who could find unbridled joy outside of the world of royal hierarchies and treasure rooms and arranged marriages, but now I can see, there are two sides to you, and this one is not so appealing.” “Beware how candidly you speak to me,” Tilly approached him again and tapped his chest with her fan. “I am a princess, and marriage will make me a queen.” “Marriage does not a queen make,” Elric’s eyes narrowed in doubt. Tilly was dumbstruck by his forthright demeanor. “I have a party to return to, and an important decision to make. Good night, and good riddance, ‘King’ Elric.” She turned on her heel so as to make a dramatic exit, feeling confident she had paid him enough insult with her tone alone. “Just like every other princess I’ve met,” he called after her. She stopped again, doubly annoyed with the situation. She turned and raised her chin high. “I assure you, sir. I am not like any other princess you have met. But the manner in which you have arrived, the circumstances you have suggested for yourself, and your general demeanor all raise too many questions.” “You think me a liar.” He stood still, arms crossed.  “You are incorrect, for I think nothing of you,” Tilly clarified haughtily, “Because you have given me nothing to think of.” “I daresay I’ve given you more than enough to think of,” Elric refuted, a slight guffaw permeating his voice. “Have you noticed that this conversation is performing one gigantic circle?” Tilly waved her arms around, the velvet of her dress rustling and sticking. “Princess?” It was Elyse’s voice coming from the castle door. “Now I really must be on my way,” Tilly shook her head. Elric took several quick steps to grab her arm. “Let me show you the Dark Forest. Then you’ll see, I am no liar,” he whispered emphatically. “What, now? I don’t think so,” she tried to wrestle her arm away but he wouldn’t let go. “Let go of me.”  “I saved your life earlier,” he reminded, his eyes flashing in vexation. “And I suppose you think that entitles you to a reward of some kind?” She thumped his arm rather sternly with her fan and he released her with a faint, “ow.”  “Certainly not, but a vote of confidence would be greatly appreciated!” He rolled his arm. “I’ll fetch you some gold. Then we’ll be square. All right?” She raised an eyebrow. Elric was shaking his head and sighing. “I should have known you’d make this difficult. Ah well.” He whistled and his horse came trotting into view, tail switching alertly.  “Make what difficult?” Tilly blinked, eyes traveling from horse to Elric. “Come along, then.” Elric swept her up into the saddle in one swift motion. “Hey! What are you--” Tilly writhed in her net of skirts and sleeves, trapped by her own fashion choices. “This isn’t funny!” “We could have done this the easy way,” Elric replied, then urged his horse to gallop away from the garden. “You can’t do this! Help! Help!” Tilly’s voice was lost in the thundering of hooves, the night air stinging her face as King Elric’s horse went barreling down the walkway across the western field. With a great deal of flailing, she was able to roll off the horse and tumbled into the grasses as King Elric wheeled back around to retrieve her. She hastily loosed the dagger from her boot and took a defensive position as Elric slid to a stop mere feet away. She could hear voices stirring up by the castle, so someone had most definitely heard the commotion. Elric dismounted. “Don’t make me do this, princess.” He seemed exhausted, frustrated, and incensed. “No, don’t make me do this,” she replied, her dagger glinting in the moonlight as she bounced between the balls of her feet in preparation for a fight. Elric sighed and drew his rapier. “Who do you think has the advantage here?” “Me,” Tilly answered with confidence, “You see, all I have to do is keep you busy. There is a whole party of people headed this way to rescue me.” “A spar with you is appealing but I’m afraid time is not on our side,” Elric said, plunging forward suddenly with his blade and hooking her dagger with ease, flinging it into his other hand before placing the tip of his rapier at her throat. “Perhaps a rematch in the future?” “Villain!” Spat Tilly, as Elric slid her dagger into his belt and pulled out a pair of irons. “Put these on, now,” Elric advised. Tilly complied seeing as she was at rapier-point, but she glared at him the entire time. He nodded towards the horse and jabbed her corset with his blade to ensure she moved quickly. He made short work of getting her back on the horse, mounting behind her to continue the escape. “You will pay for this,” Tilly warned, glancing behind to see torch lights entering the field. “They will come for me.” “Certainly so. They will try,” Elric replied, directing his horse into the thick forest where they came upon what seemed to be a secret path. “But they cannot follow what they cannot find.” The moonlight was nearly blinding on the path, lighting it to a silver ribbon winding through the twisting evergreen and deciduous foliage. It all looked so enchanting, like a dream. But Tilly had just been abducted, which was frankly not something she had ever considered occurring. And in spite of her captor’s decidedly charming attributes, she suspected foul intentions. She bit her tongue as they rode along, having so many words in mind but none yet worthy of fruition. She lost track of time, and could not have discerned if it had been minutes or hours. The moon seemed almost to be fixed in its position in the sky, which had to have been some kind of illusion.  It was then they came upon two massive oak trees on either side of the path, intertwining across like a gate. Tilly had never seen this place before, and she had spent a great deal of time in these woods. As they approached the illusory gate, the branches and vines rolled and crawled away from one another, creating a passage. Elric rode between the trees and as they passed, the vines snaked back into one another, closing the gate behind them. Tilly was flabbergasted, not being certain what her eyes had just witnessed. Elric finally spoke again, “Welcome to the Dark Forest, your highness. I doubt you should find mention of it in your history books. It is after all, a secret kingdom which exists in the shadowed valley of Mount Abysmus. Only those fated to enter may do so and those who seek entrance without permission are doomed to wander the shadow lands until madness finds, time conquers, or fortune favors. Now, do you still think me a liar?” “I see no kingdom, only trees,” Tilly blurted out. It was true; she saw no evidence of structures or other people. She was still trying to work out what she had just seen with the gate, nevermind solicit any kind of agreement with the man who had just kidn*pped her. “Are you always this aggravating?” Elric veered his horse down a narrow path branching from the main one. “I shan’t dignify that question with an answer,” Tilly raised her chin in her indignation. “So am I to understand you wish to appear dignified, or not, because being dignified would imply you answer,” rattled Elric. Tilly felt her cheeks flare up and gritted her teeth, “Get me a sword and we’ll settle it that way.” “Yes, I meant to ask, how did you become so acquainted with combat? You seem extra feisty for a princess, and I do mean that as a compliment,” Elric said cheerfully. “I enlisted private lessons from a local retired knight. I wore a disguise of course. He thought I was a nobleman’s boy.” Tilly was rather proud of that endeavor. She had trained extensively in hand-to-hand, rapier, longsword, shortsword, and especially dagger, which was her favorite. “Clever, very clever,” he commented. The downward-sloping path evened out and they entered a clearing where, as Tilly could see, the unmistakable shapes of a town stood, firelight bouncing off the dark faces of buildings. “As you might expect, this is the center of town. But my palace is this way,” he directed the horse along a path to the right. Tilly felt as though she were in some kind of wacky dream at this point. An entire town in the middle of the forest? She fancied herself to be quite familiar with the geography of her region, so how had this escaped her so completely? She took the matter rather personally in fact, and was only distracted from her self-imploding thought process when she caught a glimpse of two magnificent lamp posts comprised of twisted roots and branches with silvery lamps blinking out at her. The path wound between the posts up a smooth path into a fantastical structure. It was a palace; a palace built in harmony with the trees, every structure weaving in and out of branches with leafy shadows dancing in the silvery light. It was extraordinary and magnificent. The moon seemed to perch on top of the whole establishment like a domed roof. She was speechless as they rode up the path to some wide steps that led to what she gathered were the front doors. The doors were over twenty feet high, glistening with etched metallic silver florals and filigree. Elric dismounted and helped her down. “And this is my home,” Elric gestured at the structure. “This can’t be real,” Tilly muttered, eyeing the palace from side-to-side but slowly finding that she was falling in love with its appearance. “Are you really so proud that you cannot admit you were wrong?” Elric stroked his horse’s mane before whistling. The horse galloped off with a whiny that sounded almost grateful. Elric placed his hand on her irons and unlocked them, freeing the princess. Tilly wrung her wrists and turned her gaze to her captor, who had just removed his hat. The light was far more sufficient here, revealing his entire appearance. He had long dark hair and forest green eyes. His ears were ever-so-slightly pointed on the ends, tastefully bedecked with silver cuffs and hoops. His doublet was longer than the ones her citizens tended to wear, down to his knees and affixed with silver leaf clasps. His boots were more like leather wraps than boots, wrapping around his calves with silver buttons. He was in a word, otherworldly, and it was at that moment, with King Elric standing in front of his tree palace that they had reached through a magical tree gate by the silver paths of moonlight and starlight, that Princess Mathilde Anita Hergestrom realized she stood in the presence of the fay. As it turned out, the complete realization tipped the scales of her exhaustion and clout, for even as she stumbled to find some kind of response for the King, a wave of humble embarrassment washed over her. The feelings, unbounded and intense, swirled in her brow so that suddenly, she was looking straight up at a swirling canopy. But she never met the ground even as she full-on fainted for the first time in her life. The handsome elf king was swift and gentle, catching her in his embrace, sweeping the princess in her red velvet gown off her feet as he carried her through the magnificent doors to his arboreal palace in the Dark Forest.