Rated: NC17
Violence: Mild
Sexual Violence: None
Subtext: Yes (F/F) No explicit scenes.
This is a lesbian faery tale. Within this story there are depictions of a loving relationship between two women. If this
offensive to you, is illegal in your state, or you are under the age of 18, then don't read it!
Feedback is always welcomed: L. Crystal Michallet-Romero
by
Crystal Michallet-Romero
Copyright © 1996 Crystal Michellet-Romero
All Rights Reserved
untrampled by human contraptions, there existed a small cottage near a harvested field. Near the cottage sat an undisturbed,
open meadow at the edge of a forest. The tiny structure of the cottage blended in with the beauty of the nearby trees and the
wild flowers which dotted over the grass. Within the tiny cottage lived a young girl along with her mother and father. Upon
her birth, her mother’s first thoughts turned to the radiant, orange, fire colors of the amber fluid which formed on the nearby
trees. Of such beauty, she felt, was her daughter, and from that time forward she called her daughter Amber, in honor of the
orange fluid which was a gift from the trees.
Amber grew as all girls do, filled with curiosity and a great love of life. In the cold winter months when the snow left a white
blanket over the land, Amber sat by the fire’s hearth and listened to the tales which her mother wove for her delight. With
wide eyed innocence she imagined the faery people who once lived on the land. She dreamed of one day seeing one of the
faery folk dancing near her window at night. As if jealous of her power over his daughter, her father’s gruff laughter would
break her mother’s spell and pull Amber back to the cold darkness of their small, lonely cottage.
Although her father’s laughter attempted to dissuade Amber from her mother’s tales, Amber continued to dream of the faery
folk. When the first sign of spring’s arrival began to melt the hard, crusted snow, and the first flowers began to blossom on
the swaying trees, Amber took her cherished dreams away from the cottage and out into the nearby meadow. Without a care
in the world, she would amble over the tall grass all the while singing to herself, or chase the crystal dreams that floated on the
gossamer strands of butterfly wings.
Amber’s mother never feared for her daughter’s safety because, unlike her father, her mother was closer to the Earth Mother
and the faery folk of lore. At times when the house was quiet she could hear the wind call her name, beckon her to join her
distant kin in the carefree dance of joy for the Earth Mother, just as her daughter now danced. But with a shake of her head
she’d pull away from the whispering plea and turn her attention to her numerous chores, for if she did not darn the socks,
clean the cottage and cook the food, who would her mother’s silently reasoning voice would say.
Unlike his wife, Amber’s father had no time to listen to the nonsense of the wind or the magically swirling changes of the
seasons. Aside for noting the date of planting and harvesting, such idle pleasure was just that to him; idle pleasure. He found
his pleasure in hard work on the land. Only when dirty from plowing the fields, or sweaty from bending the steel to suit his
desires, would he feel true delight. In the mornings when he awoke, long before the morning sun would grace the land, he
would look at his calloused hands with a proud smile, for he saw that his hands could not be distinguished from the
hardworking hands of his father and grandfather before him. In the afternoon when his wife would take him some drink and
food, he allowed himself a short moment of time to gaze lovingly over his land. Rich and fertile, his land had gifted him with a
bountiful pleasure. Only when the sun had vanished from the sky would he end his day of tilling and return to his home and
family fully sated and satisfied.
Although Amber longed for her father’s approval, she could not help but notice his uncaring ways toward the earth. Rather
than allow herself to be bent to his will like the tempered steel he forged in the barn, she began to slowly move away from him
and his ways. Seeing the subtle change in his daughter, her father vowed to keep an eye for any curse which may have
befallen his only child.
Unaware of her father’s concerns, Amber continued to frolic in the nearby meadows. Once, while chasing a butterfly, she
heard a soft voice whisper her name. Turning her attention away from her pursuit, she glance toward the distance and listened
for her name. As if in answer to her unspoken desires, she heard her name being carried lightly on the wind. Unable to
contain herself, Amber ran over her familiar meadow until the ground changed from flatness to a gentle hill. Filled with a
curiosity never before felt, Amber stood panting at the bottom of the hill and gazed up half expectantly.
On the top of the hill a single small tree swayed to the gentle touches of the breeze. Like arms extending upward toward the
sky, the tree’s delicate branches reached for the clouds that floated by. It’s leaves shook in laughter as it danced the dance of
the fae folk. Nearby, the looming trees of the forest followed suit and mirrored the small tree’s dance. With only a smile,
Amber bounded up the hill filled with merriment and laughter. As she stood before the swaying tree Amber began to glide in
delight as the spirit of the dance consumed her. In imitation of the tree she began gently swaying to and fro. Laughter
escaping her control, she spun with her arms flying gently in patterns of unseen waves. As the radiant sun cast down heat and
the cool wind brushed its phantom fingers through Amber’s golden red hair, the magic of ancient lore bathed its light over the
rhythmical dance of the girl and small tree.
Sensing the magic around her, Amber continued her childish gaiety as she watched the tree transform before her eyes.
Neither afraid nor surprised, she watched gentle limbs metamorphose into small arms, the tip of the tree which once held the
largest leaves transforming into long shocks of silky black hair. The thin tree trunk took on the shape of a naked girl of similar
age to Amber. As Amber’s giggles echoed in the valley, a second laughing voice reflected her’s.
Curious about her new companion, Amber stopped her dance and smiled at the young girl. Of the same height, they stared
into each others eyes for what seemed an eternity. Where it not that one was fully clothed and the other completely naked,
the sight of two young girls facing each other would not be thought of as unusual by anyone happening upon the children.
Unafraid, Amber returned the girl’s smile. While Amber’s hair reflected the color of the setting sun, the new girl’s hair
mirrored the color of the silky dark forest nearby, and where Amber’s flesh had a slight brown shade from her time in the sun,
the new girl was as white as apple blossoms.
In her childish voice, Amber questioned her new friend. She asked her name and where she was from. With only a smile, the
strange little girl reached out and lightly touched Amber’s arm. “I am for you, and you are for me, for that is how it was
meant to be!” her sing-song words rose with childish glee.
At that statement, Amber felt the contagious joy consume her spirit, and a hearty laugh of pleasure burst from her lips as she
returned the tree child’s touch. As if they had always been together, the two girls began to dance, swaying and circling each
other, never once letting their touch upon the other break for fear the spell of joy would be shattered.
When it seemed that their young legs could carry them no more, the two girls fell to the ground with giggles of childish delight.
Although they never spoke a word, they shared all of their hopes and dreams. Only when the sun began to set and the
evening darkness began to reign did Amber rise from her spot. With a sigh of disappointment for their inevitable separation,
Amber promised to return to her new-found friend. Excited by the experience, Amber bounded down the hill, and turning
back at the bottom she saw the small tree waving its limbs to her. Smiling, she waved back before continuing her journey
home.
Once she got home, she told her mother of her experience. With only a smile, her mother stroked her hair as she explained
that she had been graced by the magic of the faery folk. Upon entering his domain, her father heard his wife’s words and
released a mocking laugh as he cleaned away the mud splattered evidence of his day’s shame.
Angered that his wife encouraged such nonsense, he told his daughter that it was only a dream brought on by the sun’s
afternoon rays. After forbidding his daughter to ever again journey to the far end of the meadow, he took his place at the
round table and prohibited any further talk of such foolishness. Without another word, Amber and her mother exchanged
nervous glances as they took their proper places. While Amber’s mother silently vowed to keep her tales away from her
daughter, Amber silently vowed to daily seek our her new friend without ever relating her excursions to either of her parents.
And so it was thus; as the days passed Amber would journey to her friend. In their silence they shared their world as only
they knew it. As the season’s began to change so too did the girls and their love. Where once they shared a childish love,
their feelings deepened into a lasting bond even as their youthful bodies blossomed into young women, and the phase of the
moon monthly laid its gentle hand upon Amber. After Amber had entered into the spring of her sixteenth year, she went to
her friend on the hill with a sense of urgent curiosity.
Amber and her friend of many years were of equal minds and alike in many ways. Linked together as few had been, they
both longed to share in ways never before shared. Although inexperienced, they explored the depths of their love. Amber
learned the many pleasures of a woman; she made discoveries about her body and that of her lover which she never thought
possible. When the sun began to set each day, she knew that even though they were not fully sated, they would have to part,
and Amber would have to return to her father’s cottage.
With only a sigh, Amber quickly dressed, kissed her tender lover, then bounded down the hill with a happy gait. As in the
past, Amber never mentioned her days activities. Instead she continued her evening chores all the while aware of her father’s
constant gaze and her mother’s occasional smile.
One day when the evening dinner was complete, Amber’s father cleared his throat in the manner which summoned the
attention of his household. Without fanfare he announced that Amber was betrothed to the son of a long-time friend who
lived some distance away. The wedding was to take place soon and both Amber and her mother were to prepare for the
journey in the morning.
Panicked by the news, Amber begged her father to reconsider. She threw herself at his feet as she pleaded for his mercy and
beseeched to be allowed to stay in the cottage by the meadow. Angered at her insolence, her father roared his commands in
an attempt to quell his daughter’s disrespect. Without thinking of the consequences, Amber blurted out that she loved
another. At her words, her father grabbed her shoulders and lifted her off her feet. As his grip tightened he felt a rage
consume his soul. Angered beyond belief, he shook his daughter and demanded the name of the person responsible for
tainting her virtue. While the tears streamed down her cheeks, Amber cried out of her love for her friend on the hill.
As if touched by the fires of Hades, he released his hold of his daughter. Disgust etched in his features, he demanded to
know who had given her the evil eye, for surly such demonic magic must be involved for his daughter to be filled with such
madness. Suddenly suspicious, he reeled his accusations on his wife. Fearful for herself and her child, she pledged her
obedience to him and swore that she had not told Amber tales of such nature since the girl was a child.
With the pleas of his daughter wailing in the room, and his wife begging for mercy, he felt a primal roar escape his control.
Suddenly fearful, both women grew silent as they quivered below his towering form. In a clear, cold voice he told his
daughter that she would be married as planned and that he forbid her of ever speaking such words again. To further prove
his dominance, and to reign in his unruly child, he vowed that the tree on the hill would be chopped down by his own hand
before they left on their trip to meet Amber’s new husband. Ignoring his daughter’s horrified gasp, he ordered her to her
room and watched her obedient form retreat from his presence.
Amber listened to the hush voices of her parents. With tears streaming from her eyes, she waited as the cottage grew dark
and silent. After many hours had passed, Amber quietly left her home and journeyed over the familiar path. With only the
light of the moon to guide her way, she fled up the hill and fell before her cherished friend. With her head pillowed on her
friends naked lap, she shook uncontrollably, tears falling unheeded from her eyes. In her grief, the words of her father poured
out to her friend. Filled with such love for her friend, the tree woman stroked Amber’s hair and offered the comfort of her
love. Neither one had solutions for their problems. For Amber knew that she could never love another, and should her father
follow through on his promise, she knew she would throw herself on her father’s ax.
In their sadness, the lovers held each other close, that being the only solace they could find. They wept all of their tears of
love and sorrow. As if in answer to their silent prayers, the nearby trees of the dense forest closed protectively around the
lovers as the blanket of darkness was pushed away by the dawn of a new day.
In the morning when Amber’s parents rose, they hoped the anger of the night before could be forgotten. Her mother hoped
to persuade her daughter with reason while her father remained confident in his control over his dominion. All hopes for calm
quickly vanished when they discovered their daughter gone.
Angered by her continued rebellion, her father stormed from the house, retrieved his ax from its resting place and began his
steady march over a seldom traveled trail. Fueled by his rage, he ignored the pleas from his wife. It would serve his daughter
right to witness him chopping down the tree. Only after it fell at her feet would she know how foolish she was, he reasoned.
When they reached the bottom of the hill he glanced up and saw the silhouette of two young trees swaying in the wind. Never
remembering mention of a second tree, her father grumbled with the realization that he would have to exert his energies into
bringing down two trees.
As he climbed to the top of the hill, he glanced from one to another. His vision was clouded by rage when his eyes fell on his
daughter’s discarded clothes which lay near the trees. Nearby him, his wife cocked her head as she seemed to listen to the
sounds of the wind. Ignoring her expression, he growled deeply as he moved to the nearest tree and raised the ax with both
hands.
Before he could follow through with his blow, his wife jumped between the blade and the tree. In a moment of fear he held
back, allowing his anger to shine through his eyes. Unafraid, his wife stood her ground. As the minutes slipped by like hours,
he stared at his wife. Like a gentle tapping on his shoulder he felt a brush of air pass by him. Before he realized a change, he
began to hear the howl of his name race through the wind.
In amazement he looked up toward the nearby forest. He felt the large trees closing in around him, cutting off his air. He saw
the large branches reaching for him like demon claws. Fearful of their anger, he returned his vision to the two smaller trees.
With only a moment of thought, he lowered his ax and turned to make his way down the hill.
Grateful to the goddess of her ancestors, his wife turned and smiled up at the trees. She, like her daughter, understood the
magic which ran through their blood, and was fully aware of the balance of nature. Unlike her husband, she had come to
respect the gifts of life that were bestowed upon her. If losing her daughter to the old ways was the price she had to pay, she
reasoned it was worth that price indeed, for not only would her daughter’s existence go beyond mere time, but she would
always live to honor the Goddess, Amber’s mother reasoned.
With only a sigh, she gathered her daughter’s clothing then turned one last time to gaze at the two young trees. As the wind
glided over the trees, one of the branches reached down and gently touched a tear which stained her cheek. At the sign of
affection, she gazed up at the tree and smiled, then turned and made her way down the hill.
At the bottom of the hill she heard the gentle voices of two young women singing. With eyes closed she strained to hear their
words. “I am for you, and you are for me, for that is how it was meant to be,” a strange girl’s voice mixed in with the familiar
voice of her daughter.
Quickly turning back she gazed up the hill toward the trees. There, she saw the naked form of her daughter held in a close
embrace by another young woman. Locked in a lover’s kiss, the two young women remained oblivious to her presence.
When the rays of the morning sun flashed in her eyes, she blinked to clear her vision before returning her gaze to the top of the
hill. As if her eyes had deceived her, she saw the two young trees swaying in the wind. Their delicate branches remained
entwined as the wind slipped through their leaves. In the distance, as if they give approval, the larger trees of the forest
hummed in unison. Their branches, so much larger than the little trees’ branches, rose up to the clear blue sky. With only a
shake of her head and a smile, Amber’s mother bowed respectfully to the forces of nature. She gave her silent thanks to
those who had sacrificed for the existence of their kin, and she asked them to care well for her beloved child.
Amber was never seen again, but from time to time travelers who passed the hill would mention seeing the aberration of two
women lovers lying in an embrace upon the hill. Since the father could never explain such stories, he wrote them off as
nonsense and even though he professed to not believe such things, he never again ventured to the trees on the hill. From time
to time, Amber’s mother would go to the hill to talk to the spirit of her daughter.
When the years had passed and after many seasons had gone by since her husband had died, Amber’s mother made a final
journey to the hill. Tired and alone she sat between the two large trees and allowed her spirit to soar from her. Recognizing
her as one of their own, the two young trees took her spirit into their care, knowing all the while that someday the spirit of
Amber’s mother would leave them to begin her journey, once again, through life’s never ending paths.
The End
