A little project I’m working on to give me a break from more serious stuff. The first prompt is future, and the character is Robin (and Ingrid) from my novel Into the Witch’s Wood.
Nothing worried Rob, a feature that Ingrid claimed was his
most annoying one. Since she said that about all his features, that didn’t
worry him either. He greeted her remarks with a smile that infuriated her.
Elves always took life much too seriously. And fairies, as Ingrid would mutter
under her breath, did not take it seriously enough.
Ingrid
was a true elven lady. Her face never betrayed her uncertainty or concern, but
Rob knew they were there. She worried about everything. Threats of war from the
humans, that worried her a lot. The fates of her siblings, all of whom were
being shipped off into alliance marriages as she was, that worried her too. Her
own marriage concerned her less, though for all reports her new husband was cruel
and ghastly. He would be no match for her, and she said it often enough. But
somehow the thing that worried her the most was Rob’s blithe unconcern.
“Doesn’t
the war worry you?” She asked him as they packed his plane for the trip.
“We’ve
fought before,” he said with a shrug. “I expect we always will.”
That
was easy enough for him to say, she reflected later. His father’s family had
deep military roots, and Rob had followed his ancestors footsteps.
“If you
and your father end up fighting, who will protect your mother?” She asked when
they stopped for lunch and fuel.
Rob
grinned. “My mother can take care of herself. She’s got more power than the
next ten fairies put together.”
That
was easy too. Ingrid knew his mother was from a high family – even if she had
besmirched her blood by marrying a human. She supposed fairy high families had
as much power as did their elven counterparts.
“What
if we lose? What of our future?” She asked him when they stopped for the first
night.
“I know
my future,” Rob said in an even tone. “I saw it in the eyes of a selkie maid
last summer.”
“Selkie maid? You can’t possibly mean
that brute who beat Prince Alestior in a duel.”
Rob gave her a dopey grin, a look
common to fairies. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? We’ll live in a manor by the
sea, far from any humans. Our children will be knights and lords. And there
will always be music and laughter mixed with the sound of the waves.”
Ingrid
could only roll her eyes and thank the good earth she was born an elf, rather
than a fairy. “And does she know that yet?”
Rob
laughed. “Not yet. But I’m not worried about it.”
“Of
course not.”
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