A Kelpie of Rowan

Chapter 18

The passage is a bit different without Andrian, barely a second passes between the water closing over her and her appearance on the other side. She has to swim into shore, the water is deeper in the river back home. Her clothes and remain dry though, part of the magic. Rowan steps out of the water, spinning her bracelet back around her wrist until the river stone is on top once again. The forest is still around her, the light at the same position in the trees as it was when she left. She really can control how long she is gone.

With a small smile, Rowan turns away from the river and heads back into the forest. There is a sound to her right and she spins, a hand going to the salt in her pocket. Rowan peers into the trees, searching for what she could have heard. Nothing, nothing, there! A flash of golden eyes, luminescent like a cat's. They're there for a moment then gone again, but Rowan can still sense them lurking. Her voice is quiet.

"I know you're there. You know I'm here too. I think you're one of the . . . Aos Sí." Rowan has to force herself to not say faeries. "I don't know how you know I'm here, I should have been hidden because of my inside out clothing. But you know despite that, so why don't you tell me, why are you watching me? Why are you following me?"

The faery comes closer, enough that she can see its silhouette through the trees but none of its features, save that of its glowing eyes. The faery has horns like a deer, spiraling up above its head. They're small though, smaller than they should be even with the proportion of a stag's antlers to its size. Rowan steps toward the faery despite herself, drawn in by curiosity and something else. Not something magical, but something she can't quite name. The closest she can come to describing it is familiarity. As she steps closer, the faery steps back. Rowan frowns.

"Why won't you let me see you? Are you scared of me?" There is a soft laugh from the faery, but nothing more than that. Rowan sighs. "Why are you watching me? At least answer that."

"What is your name?"

The sound of the faery's voice startles Rowan, smooth and velvety. Warm. It's a male voice, she can detect that much. It sounds like what the Seelie Lord was trying to glamour his voice to be like, but this voice is natural. Instinctually, Rowan opens her mouth to tell the faery her name but stops herself just in time to keep most of it hidden.

"Ro."

When the faery speaks again, there is a smile in his voice. Somehow, he whispers the rest of it into the air, the sound so faint that none but them can hear it. He speaks her name reverently, almost with awe.

"Rowan."

Rowan shivers as the word floats in the air between them. "How did you know?"

The faery shakes his head and laughs again, slipping back into the trees. Rowan lurches towards where he was standing, looking around for him. He's nowhere in sight, but Rowan can hear faint words ringing in the air.

"Go home, Ro. Go home."

He must be nearby for her to hear him still, but she can't find any trace of him. It's as if he had just disappeared into thin air. With a sigh, Rowan turns away from where the faery had been and continues making her way home. When she steps out of the forest and into the field surrounding her home, she clutches the folds of her coat tightly in one hand, trying to distract herself from the feeling of loss. It's stronger now than it was before, but perhaps that could be because of the magic in her blood still waking. Or perhaps she just doesn't feel ready to leave the woods just yet. Rowan shakes her head and opens the gate, latching it behind her with a click once she is through. There are faint sounds from the house, her mother must have just gotten up. But when Rowan steps into the house and follows the sound to the kitchen, it isn't her mother she sees.

"Gran? What are you doing up?"

"I'm cooking, Rowanberry. What does it look like?"

Rowan giggles. "It looks like you're cooking. But what are you making?"

"Bread. If you give me a couple of minutes, I'll be done with this soon."

Rowan nods and sits at the table to watch her grandmother work the dough. She kneads it easily, efficiently. Both her grandmother and mother are good in the kitchen, but Rowan lacks that skill. For cooking, at least. She can do wonderful things with the items she forages for in the woods, she just can't do anything when they're no longer raw. They become strange to her then. Her grandmother folds the dough one last time before she covers it with a towel and moves to the sink to clean her floured hands. When she turns back around, Aisling frowns.

"What is it, Rowan? You look worried about something."

Rowan tries to smile, but it lasts for barely a moment before it falls back into a concerned frown. "Come on, Gran."

Aisling frowns but doesn't question it, letting Rowan lead her back to her room. Rowan sits on her bed and tilts her head back to lean it against the wall.

"Rowan?"

Rowan lifts her head back up to look at her grandmother and sighs, steeling herself. "Were you ever going to tell me that the Seelie Lord was your father?"
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Who do you think Rowan saw in the woods? How did he know her name? How is Rowan's grandmother going to respond to Rowan's question? Tell me your thoughts!

Happy reading and I'll see you next chapter!

~Goddess of Fate, signing out.