Eyes like the Forest (7)
#8 of Eyes like the Forest
No-longer-gray had awoken some hours before dawn, having slept as much as he was allowed, and made a breakfast of wild berries and a crust of bread leftover from the previous day's meal, all while watching that fragile construction of wood and straw. An hour before dawn, the fingers of sunlight beginning to stretch over the horizon, he had seen her emerge. She wore a threadbare dress, a sun-bleached blue and white, as plain as they come but well cared for. That long flaxen hair of hers was combed to a bright sheen, making the even the dull color come alive, and tied back with some ribbon the same color as her clothes. If the quality of her home from the outside was any cause for alarm as to her well-being, all fears were allayed to see her in such a state, obviously taken care of, either by her own doing or that of another. She had begun by walking down to the river an drawing a bucket of fresh water, sipping from it herself, before carrying it back to the shack where she gingerly spread it over the garden alongside the home. She tended it with practice and without break or complaint, so that the traveler would wonder if she did not have calluses on her little, delicate hands.
The morning passed as she busied herself with many tasks: collecting sticks for a fire, conducting her laundry down to the river where she washed it before hanging it to dry, taking out a rug of woven straw and beating the dust out of it with her thin arms. She carried out the work of an adult, with all the aplomb and strong dignity of any housewife, yet with the elfish features of a child, unmarred by time and tribulation. Yet, this was not something entirely unusual, and whatever it was that No-longer-gray was looking for did not reveal itself. It was midday when he decided to approach her, gathering his belongings and creeping out behind the grove of trees, around the rise a hillock, and onto the rudimentary path leading from town, where she could not see him. The dust of the road already thick upon his cloak, he looked much the part of any traveling passerby as he slowly meandered towards her, wearing a smile as he made his presence known.
"Hello." The simple greeting may as well have been a fierce battle cry for how quickly the young girl ran, wide-eyed back towards her ramshackle home, that hair of hers streaming out behind her. She hid behind the awkward-hanging door, but did not yet close it all the way, peering out warily with those arresting, deep green eyes. Stopping in his tracks and throwing up his hands, the traveler chuckled softly. "Whoa, didn't mean to sneak up on you there, forgive me. I was just wondering if you could help me out a bit."
A moment of silence as she looked him up and down, apparently somewhat satisfied with what she saw as she stepped forward, half of her body inside, the other half out. "What do you want?" The voice was soft yet clear, the high voice of a young girl but strong and composed. However, it rang with a plaintive note, as if a part of her pleaded the stranger to not bring her trouble.
"A bite to eat, some water, and a kind soul to share words with." He answered simply. "What more could anyone want? You see, I'm on my way to meet my cousin, a bit downriver, but it's proving to be a bit farther than I thought and I finished off my traveling-food this morn. I don't need much, just a few bites, and I don't expect charity." Reaching beneath his cloak he fished out a beaten coin that glinted in the light.
The girl stepped forward through the door, half of her body in, the other half out, and paused, glancing a look inside the shack before exiting completely, the door closing behind her. "We don't have much, but I can spare a carrot or two."
"Couldn't ask for more."
With a nod she gestured towards the garden and led the way around it to an old tree stump and a large rock sat next to each other, sitting on the stump as the traveler availed himself of the stone. She held out her hand, which he noted was free of blisters or calluses, and another chuckle escaped him.
"A shrewd young woman." The man dropped the coin into her small palm, which she tucked into her dress, producing two washed carrots, thin and crooked, from some hidden pocket within. "Ah, many thanks, my dear."
To which she said nothing, and the pair sat in relative silence as the traveler nibbled absently on his carrot. Eyes turned outward and not to each other, looking out over the grass that swayed in the occasion breath of wind. Finally she spoke again, looking at him askance. "... It's been a while since anyone's shared words with me; I don't have many."
"Oh?" No-longer-gray looked back at her, chewing on the vegetable slowly.
"You came by way of Tarrensford, right?"
"Aye."
"Didn't they tell you?"
His brows raised inquisitively. "... Tell me what?"
She turned from his gaze, looking down at her lap. "Never mind... It's nothing."
"Come to think of it..." The stranger started, scratching his chin almost comically, looking up at the sky as if trying to find some half-buried memory among the clouds. He caught her staring at him again from the corner of his eye, and he could swear he saw fear in her expression. "I seem to recall someone mentioning a girl who lives around here. ... Something about her being an exceptionally lovely young lady."
She seemed taken aback, dumbfounded, looking without recognition at the warm smile on the traveler's face, before realizing the compliment and returning his grin with a girlish giggle. It brightened her noticeably, and he found his own smile was no longer a mere illusion, but genuine. Briefly, he wondered how many people got to see that side of her, how many opportunities she received to let it out.
"What's your name, little lady?"
"Merrin." She replied without hesitation, still wearing that joyful expression.
"Pleased to meet you, merry Merrin, I'm Galen... Galen Gray."
***
The two shared small talk and bites off carrots for another hour or so, an hour filled with soft chuckles and high-pitched laughter, before Galen finally rose to his feet with a world-weary sigh, bid his goodbye, and took off downriver. He glanced back once, waving a farewell which she eagerly returned, and could feel her eyes upon him until he disappeared behind the landscape, going no further. The man took care in making his way back around to the grove wherein he took residence, and espied her from a distance. She lingered near the garden, now empty of smiles and laughter, occasionally glancing in the direction he had left. A wellspring of pity rose in him, recognizing the longing for companionship, a pain he knew well. Eventually she returned to her chores and retired into the shack with the fall of dusk. Divesting himself of his cloak, he watched on for the remainder of the night before settling in for sleep once more. It was a step in the right direction, he knew, and it was more clear why she was the target of his attention. The strength to complete a full day's work in such a frail body, the health of body and skin despite harsh work and living conditions, a dignity and wisdom beyond her years, and the stark green eyes, like the needles of an evergreen...
A spirit had taken root in the body and soul of poor little Merrin.