Lady Fernweh of Fernglade

(M/F, Nymph, Mature woman, vaginal)

The hall had the orange splash of summer, gold shields celebrating the radiance of the sun, fields of flowers painted in murals taller than multiple men. Even the knights, in their line, had the fern under the sun as their crest.

Despite that, Heinrich felt the chill of death on the room. He swallowed in the doorway, waiting to be introduced, keeping his eyes averted.

“My lady, this is Heinrich of Soothwind, disciple of Imog, and philosopher.” The crier announced with a wave of his hand.

A voice came from the head of the room, it was quiet, but stern, “Come, Heinrich.”

He allowed himself to look forward as he approached. Even his hesitance didn’t steel him against his first reaction. The woman seated at the helm, the Lady of Fernglade, was astounding. In his travels, he never expected any man or woman to live up their legend. Now he felt like a fool.

She stood, a dress of long banana leaves overlapping down her curves. Her hair was braided down long enough to reach her back. Red ruffles came off her shoulders, and along her form were pale pink flowers that seemed to bloom where they pleased.

Heinrich went to one knee, and took his eyes to the carpet. “Lady Fernweh, thank you for accepting my audience. You are not only powerful, and beautiful, but gracious as well.”

Fernweh sat, and motion her hand, “You can stand now, I’m not a king, I don’t need a shower of compliments.”

He stood, and looked at her straight on. Her hair was fainter than the stories, like an orange that was being drained of its color by the open air. A dull lipstick, like dried and fallen leaves, was spread over her stern lips. She had a hint of fatigue under her eyes, and he could see that her youth was not eternal as rumor implied. Still, Heinrich knew that pointed ears and a glint of magic in the eye meant he shouldn’t trifle.

“You belong to my glade,” Fernweh said, “you wrote me and said you had dark news for all of us. I live for the trees, and speak for the swamp, what could you have to tell me that I don’t already know?”

While her words were dismissive, Heinrich saw a hint of real concern. She was looking him over, her eyes eating every piece of him. When his eyes locked on hers, he saw her gaze steady, and a hint of blush in her cheeks.

“My lady,” Heinrich said, “I come to tell you about the West. The King’s people are alarmed, they panic in the streets, and ready their troops for battle. Still, before the storm hits them it will hit your glade. Why do we do nothing but wait?”

Fernweh looked up to the high windows of the hall, a line shining in that could barely penetrate the dusk in the room.

“You think I should do something?” She asked, turning and shaking her head at Heinrich, “Storms are nothing to fear, even dark ones like this.”

Heinrich swallowed, “Then the Fernglade will fall?”

She let out a sigh, and shook her head, “If that is what the elements demands, who am I to stand against it?”

This was what he was afraid of. The Fernglade wasn’t large, and it wasn’t powerful, but it was home for Heinrich. He travelled far, studied under many different minds, but he was still a simple boy who grew up in a simple land. His mother used to tell stories of lady Fernweh, how when he was a child she would play in the fields with her people.

She came out of nowhere, took the land as a gift from the king, became a ruler overnight. She was magic, aloof, strange, but there was no one more benevolent. The land was prosperous, the crops were bountiful, the weather perfect. She was lady Fernweh, and she had found her home, and the people were proud to call it Fernglade.

Heinrich didn’t remember ever meeting her, so by the time his memories mattered times were already changing. Maybe perfection is too much for humans, maybe jealousy should be kept in mind when you have neighbors whose crops fail and farms are ravaged by storms.

“Then it’s true,” Heinrich said, “Your magic is gone.”

He cringed, expecting the backlash of any noble at court.

“Why would you say such a thing?” Fernweh said, a look of pain in her eyes, “Why?”

Heinrich pointed up above a suit of black armor, to a painting on the wall of a beautiful field, the sky blue around it, and a fleeing green of death on the edge of it.

“You are Lady Fernweh,” Heinrich said, “People know you as their defender. When the floods came, you turned them away. When the Greyfog witch sent a pestilence you saved not just us but the kingdom. Now you wallow here, like any other noble.”

“What would you have me do?” Fernweh said, “I can’t fight nature, I am nature. In my innocence I turned away what came naturally, and both my sisters and my people chastised me.”

“If you could see the state of your land, you would understand.”

Fernweh flicked her wrist at him, “The land itself is my friend, what could you possibly know?”

“My Lady, please,” Heinrich pleaded.

“You can go,” Fernweh said, leaning back in her chair and turning away.

“Just one trip,” Heinrich said, “If I can show you something you didn’t expect, hear me out. Otherwise, you can banish a boy of Fernglade, forever.”

There was a clang of metal as two knights moved forward to collect him.

Fernweh looked at him from the corner of her eye, and again he could see her gaze going up and down his body.

They put a hand on each of his shoulders, and Fernweh put a hand up. It froze them all in place.

“Prepare the wagon and horses.”

From the wagon they could watch the land slide past. In the past, Fernglade was quite a glade indeed. They were surrounded by forestland, with the swamps to the North. As Fernweh looked out, ignoring Heinrich seated beside her, she could see the wide open land around them. The trees had retreated, by the hands of man.

“I’m sorry,” Heinrich said, “For earlier, and being rude.”

Fernweh looked at him, and gave him a soft smile, “I told you, I’m not a king. I’m not even a noble, not really. They let me play at it, and maybe I played too hard. Back then I had no idea what I was doing.”

She looked down at her lap, “Now I understand that mother nature has to let beauty wax and wane. Even if no one wants the waning beauty.”

Her fist balled up in her lap, her eyes closed tight.

Heinrich put a hand over her fist. Fernweh gasped and looked up.

“Only a child ignores beauty because of its phase,” He said, “You are a gift to us, Lady Fernweh, believe that.”

That blush returned to her cheeks, and she tried to sit tall, despite the glaze over her eyes. “You have a warm heart, for a philosopher.”

He took his hand back, “My studies lead me to return home, and speak to you. I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I,” Fernweh said, “Though I’m afraid you’ve missed a chance to meet Fernweh at her best. I used to be quite a wonder, a whirlwind not even several men could pin down.”

Heinrich coughed, his mind going far from anywhere you should keep a decent thought about your Lady, “Pin down?”

Fernweh held her hand up to her mouth and giggled, “Oh my, excuse me. But you know what I meant.”

He nodded, “Of course, my lady.”

The wagon started to slow, and Heinrich looked out to see the land. They were close, it would do.

“We’re here,” He said, “We have to walk a little further.”

They stepped out of the wagon, and two knights got off horses to accompany them. They were deep in the forest now, the trees so deep that they could barely see down the trail back toward the hall.

Fernweh took a deep breath, and Heinrich could see a wave of relaxation travel through her. She sniffed at the air, and he could swear that her ears perked up.

“Is it a shame I’ve forgotten how beautiful the forest can be?” She said as she walked forward, “All this life, so much color.”

Heinrich followed behind her, “Why not visit more often?”

Her shoes sunk into the soft soil, but her steps were attracted to the sunbeams that pierced the trees. She touched each tree as she passed, and whispered a word or two that Heinrich couldn’t make out.

“I used to,” She said with a chuckle, “Now I have a garden, somehow I thought that was enough.”

Her heels came off without a thought, and her toes dug into the soil as she continued her idle tour of the edge of Fernglade. A squirrel ran halfway up a tree, and chattered at her.

She turned, and smiled, “Well hey there, you seem familiar.”

The squirrel turned and continued to squeak. To Heinrich it seemed like the squirrel was ready for battle, but Fernweh chortled at the creature, as if it was telling a fine joke.

“I’m glad,” Fernweh said, “Though I would stay safe this next moon, if you can.”

Heinrich looked her over as the animal came to the ground. She bent forward to look down on the furry denizen of her domain, and Heinrich would be a liar if he said the view of his lady from behind wasn’t enjoyable.

“Oh my,” Fernweh said, a tone of sadness entering her voice, “Are you sure?”

The squirrel fled, and Fernweh stood again, her eyes turned down. She started to walk again, though this time with longer steps, and a sense of penance. Something the squirrel said must have distressed her, Heinrich could barely get her attention.

“Do you know what it costs me to work my magic?” Fernweh asked, as her hands gripped a tree, “It isn’t free. Even turning a seed into a sapling can be so draining.”

Heinrich stopped, a few steps ahead of the knights, “I’ve heard you are nature itself, Lady Fernweh. Weak in the winter, strong in the bloom, life itself sustains you.”

She grinned at him, “That is true, in part. I can speak to life, and life speaks back. Still, there is one quick way to fill my stores, one I used to use without shame or hesitation. It required a pure contribution of life, if you will.”

Heinrich took a step forward, and furrowed his brow, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Fernweh blushed, “I guess with how I look now, it seems out of the question. All seeds are potent, and the seed of man exceptionally so.”

He wasn’t a dullard, and the facts sunk in. Fernweh turned away from him and left him with the mental image of his Lady, in the nude, arms out and welcoming. He had heard rumors about her, old ones. His mother would tell him how the mothers of Fernglade kept an eye on their men and brothers. The Lady was alone, but did not sleep in a cold bed. He always took it as idle chatter, the rumors any noble lady suffers when she doesn’t take a husband.

“I had to put a stop to that,” Fernweh said, “for the sake of my people. Without that power, I’m just a subject of the elements. I am at nature’s whim, as you see yourself at Imog’s. Still, I feel so much weaker than that, distant.”

“As if you miss familiar faces?” Heinrich offered.

She looked back over her shoulder, and he saw a sadness there unlike any he had ever known. Such a beauty, weathered by the world around her, and now squeezed of all joy.

“I wanted a home so bad,” Fernweh said, “I ignored the truth. Fernglade is just another stop, and I let a sense of duty poison that. Now I’m too weak to do anything but watch everyone get hurt for my mistakes.”

She continued forward, and Heinrich moved through the forest to catch up.

“You were trying to do your duty,” Heinrich said, “No one would blame you. Your people still love you.”

“I’m not oblivious,” Fernweh said as she sped up, hopping over roots, dashing through brushes, “I know what they call me. I’m the Fern witch, the cold lady! I’m survived, not loved!”

“Lady Fernweh, You have it all wrong,” He said as they continued to run. They were getting away from the knights now, who could barely keep up with all of their gear.

He couldn’t keep up, and worse he knew what was up ahead. Still, he hoped his words could reach her, for more reasons than one. Seeing her torn up, hearing her wish the terrible rumors and nicknames on herself, it squeezed at his heart.

Fernweh stopped with a start, and Heinrich stopped behind her. She was looking out over a small field. You could feel a difference in the air, a wind that disrupted the trees, scared away the animals.

While on their side of the field, the grass was green, and the trees were full of life, the far side was strange. It wasn’t dead, but it was still, as if the wind was holding it in place.

“Why is it so quiet?” Fernweh asked, “I can’t even hear any animals.”

Heinrich stood beside her, “It is the storm, making its way. It isn’t natural, not even close. It steals from the forest, but what it does with that power I just don’t know.”

“I think I have an idea,” Fernweh said, then shook her head, “but there is nothing I can do. The fern witch is nothing now.”

She leaned against a tree, the branches framing her on both sides. Even with that run through the woods, Heinrich found her ravishing. It looked like the flowers on her dress had regained their color, and her face had regained some of its color.

“Isn’t there a way?” Heinrich asked, his eyebrows up. He couldn’t hide the look he was giving her, his eyes begging questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

She looked up, and took in a breath in reaction to his gaze.

Fernweh shook her head, “Don’t pity me, not like that. Even standing here with a young form like yours is cruel enough. The nymph you deserve is some generations back.”

Heinrich walked closer, brought a hand under her chin, and lifted her eyes to meet his, “Didn’t I tell you only a child misses the beauty in nature’s wane? Do I look like a child to you?”

She blushed, and Heinrich’s lips met hers. They broke apart, and both of them gasped for air.

“You would do me that favor?” She asked, her face turning crimson, “Even while I look like this?”

Heinrich ran a hand down her cheek, “You’ve exceeded the tales of your own beauty, you do me an honor.”

They kissed again, their breath mixing, their tongues searching one another. Heinrich’s hands moved down her curves, ran over her hips, squeezed at her rear. She squealed into him, a nervous laugh against his kiss.

“Are you that excited for me?” She asked as he pressed her against the tree. Feelings were evident, even through his pants, pressed against her stomach. He had no time to be embarrassed, and his kiss travelled down her neck. She cooed at the contact, and held him close to her by his neck.

Heinrich’s hands moved to the slit in her dress, moving between the cool leaves and her soft skin, embracing the warmth of her thigh. As he moved to her hip, he realized she lacked any sort of undergarment.

He looked her in the eyes, and Fernweh smiled in return. It was playful, and he smiled in return. She kissed him this time, and he felt a snap of energy between them. It was enchanting, her soft lips, her soft sighs as their hands explored each other. He couldn’t keep himself under control any longer, his body was screaming to know her.

Heinrich pushed her against the tree again, and then went to unstrap his pants. His manhood swung free as they fell, and Fernweh let out a small gasp. It was like her favorite dessert had been presented at dinner, her attempt to contain her urge, her face flushing but her eyes looked elsewhere.

“I’m sorry,” Heinrich said, “You’re just so wonderful.”

She didn’t speak, but a small sigh escaped her lips as Heinrich moved her dress up. She had a small patch of red hair between her legs. He held her leg to his side, and then pressed into her. Fernweh moaned with pleasure, and then kissed him again.

Each thrust pressed her against the old bark of the tree. He could feel her heat all around him as he pushed in deeper. They struggled for position, his hands repositioning on her leg, her hips squirming, whatever it took to make the next impact that much stronger. They were both panting loudly, their voices echoing across the field, their sweat intermingling as she held his chest close to hers.

“Please,” She said, “Kiss me, kiss me more.”

He obliged, his kisses running up her cheek, over her ear, over her face and any bare skin he could find. She was hot to the touch, and growing hotter. Each kiss may as well have been another penetration, she let out small gasps to meet each one.

“Faster,” She whispered, “You can go faster.”

Heinrich felt a heat come to his face, but he followed her wish. He went faster, her hips moving against his, his length nearly leaving her with every rotation. Their sordid sounds were loud, and only made him harder.

His moans turned into groans. Contact with the lady Fernweh driving him to his limit. It seemed she even knew this, naturally.

“Hold on,” She moaned, “You can hold on, just a little more.”

Her words made her request next to impossible. He looked at her, her face locked in ecstasy. It was like a new life was flowing into her. Her hair, which had seemed to faded before, was now as vibrant as any painting. The bags had vanished from her eyes. She was a goddess in form.

“Heinrich, harder!” She shouted, “harder, please!”

There was no choice in the matter. He was reaching his end, and soon his gift would be transmitted no matter his feelings. He pressed her hard against the bark, which felt almost warm against his fingers. He closed his eyes and pressed, making each thrust his best, wanting nothing more than to please his Lady. Their voices both rose in volume, but hers eclipsed his.

An increase in light made him open his eyes. Was her skin, glowing? It was no radiance in his mind, but true illumination. As he penetrated deeper, her mouth opened and a shivering moan left her lips. It tilted her head back and shook the ground he stood on. It reached a pitch he couldn’t hear. Despite his bewilderment, the look on her face was one of pure joy, and soon his own joy followed. He pulsed inside her, and released jet after jet of his seed.

The power continued to flow through Fernweh, her body almost scalding against him, and too bright to look at directly. Then immediately she calmed down and became as limp as if her limbs were made of rubber.

He leaned against her and the tree, and together they caught their breath.

“That was magical,” Heinrich gasped.

She put a hand to his cheek, “It was a start.”

He looked at her with an eyebrow raised, and then looked over his shoulder. The storm, the darkness that was flooding the forest, was retreating. It was not dead and gone, but some of the treeline looked flush with light and life as any other forest.

“Not bad, for a nymph my age,” Fernweh said with a weak giggle.

He looked at her, and kissed her, “This is a miracle.”

She smiled, “With your help, I can get a lot done.”

There was something more in her eyes, questions about what to do after, questions about what she had done before. Still, there was a light there that wasn’t before. She looked like a woman in the middle of summer.