The man of the house comes to her rescue

The figure – a man, Lux thinks – peers from the door of the cottage for a moment. Then, with a cry of alarm, he begins to hurry in her direction. Tired as she is, Lux braces herself, able to expect only to be surprised by some fey trick. And yet—

He’s not especially tall. Easily taller than Lux, of course, but that’s not difficult. He has a kind, soft sort of face, with large brown eyes – boyishly handsome, in a way that makes it hard to pin down his age, although Lux guesses he’s older than she is. His light-brown hair, contrasting with the rich dark tone of his skin, is neatly trimmed; his cheeks clean-shaven. All radiating a kind of earnestness that has never heard of vanity. Even his clothing is unassuming, a blue-dyed woollen tunic and simple trousers, hardly the otherworldly excess she might expect in this realm of fey glamour.

But what really strikes Lux is her impression, amid the ever-shifting mists of illusion, that this face is real. This a human man. A mortal, just like her.

Then he opens his mouth, and she’s no longer so sure.

“By my troth! My good lady, whatever hath befallen you?”

His words, his whole way of speaking, leave Lux completely off-balance. Like a troubadour affecting the speech of some long-dead king or courtier. But as with everything about the man, it seems…not affected. Genuine.

The man seems to take her stunned silence as a further sign of her distressed state. “Good wife, prithee, come quickly!” he calls back towards the cottage. “Bring – bring forth a blanket, with all haste!”

He turns back towards Lux. His gaze barely considers her naked, sand-strewn body before finding and maintaining eye contact. It’s Lux who finds herself still lost for words, a little breathless. Although she does also belatedly have the presence of mind to cover herself with her hands.

“Pray tell, good lady, do you understand my words?” He waves a hand as if trying to see if her eyes will follow it. “How came you here?”

Lux blinks. “What?” She shakes her head, then: “Yes. I understand. I-I think.”

“Ah – bestir yourself not, I beg you. Mine wife shall soon bring – O, good wife! Holly, my love, be quick, ‘tis most urgent—!”

It takes Lux a moment to drag her attention away from the man and his oddness to focus on the woman he calls his wife. She, for her part, does not hurry, approaching them at a much more wary pace. She is tall – taller than her husband, Lux soon realises – and slender of build, carrying herself with effortless elegance. A cascade of wavy red hair frames her pale face, accenting rather harder-edged, aristocratic features. Contrasting with the man’s clothes, her flowing dress is of pristine white silk. In her hands she holds a blanket, her clenched fingers tightening their grip on its fabric as she takes in the sight of Lux’s nude body.

“Holly, mark thou,” the man says, “this unfortunate maiden requires the shelter of our home. Methinks she hath been set upon, robbed of the clothes off her back! And by her speech, I fear she hath lost her wits…”

“So I see.” Holly approaches a few steps, with clear ****. “Though I doubt me she be any sort of ‘maiden’—” She stops in her tracks, eyes narrowing. “Beware, my lord,” she calls out, pointing at Lux’s forehead. “The horns…”

“Ah – pray set thine heart at ease, dearest one.” The man smiles at Lux. “A mere touch of otherworldly blood, methinks. Mine own cousin Maude is adorned in like fashion. The kindest of hearts one could hope to meet.”

The woman’s expression changes – though not to one of welcome. If anything, Lux thinks she detects a flicker of grief before she composes herself. “As thou sayest, dear.”

Their hands wrap the blanket around Lux’s shoulders. Warm and dry and soft. Much as she wants to keep on her guard, she finds herself powerless to even protest as she’s bundled along the path and towards the cottage.

Unsure, she glances back – and sees no sign of the vined hedge that was behind her a moment ago. No, now a low stone wall encircles the grounds around the cottage, the grassy riverbank visible beyond it. And in the moment she notices – for just that moment – she can sense the mist still waiting out there, the dense tangle of the Valley forest – before it’s gone, the sunlight breaking through again, and everything is rosy and bright…