Lady of the Lake

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espite winter’s touch, she could not help but heed to the call of the expanse of water that had become a source of revitalization for her over the course of several months. Nimue trailed her way as elegant as a rolling fog down to the edge of this mystical lake, her long flowing tail guy ty dry. A majority of it had completely frozen over, but where the lake kissed the shore, the gentle lapping of its caress disturbed the surface enough to leave a layer of much thinner ice here.

Nimue glanced over her shoulder as she came to a halt, noting that her small altar has remained intact where she’d built it. It was a large boulder she'd discovered that's top was slightly hollowed so that it collected rainwater at its center. A collection of small pebbles of various colors, shapes, and sizes from the lake surrounded the nature-made bowl. And some smooth flat stones were stacked atop one another in a circular pattern around the main portion of the altar. Seeing that all of it stood tall and proud as it had since her most recent visit, brought her peace. She drew in a long deep breath, her toes tracing the shoreline before advancing. One foot in front of the other, the snapping and cracking of her weight bearing down on the ice echoed in the silence of winter.

She went out into the lake as far as she could until the ice became more difficult to break, the water just barely coming up to surround her flank. The chill forced the exhale from her lungs, her hot breath crystallizing as it moved past her ears. Nimue closed her eyes and tilted her head back, a smile spreading across her maw. There were needles along the lengths of her long, slender legs and against her underbelly. It was a wonder she felt anything at all, for these days it was a rarity. She sought to enjoy the frigid intensity to its fullest, knowing that she could only stay emerged for so long in this brisk temperature.

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W

ith mild concern (but, really, more for morbid curiosity), Rhiannon followed the sound to a lake. The water was mostly claimed by the winter, and an unfortunate someone had fallen into its icy depths. Her pack quickened as she neared the frozen shore, but the sight before her was unexpected, and more than a little strange -- it was not a terrified deer who had strayed too far to drink, or some other animal whose chilling fate was nearly certain, flailing useless in the icy waters that would soon overwhelm their systems and end them. Instead, it was a wolfess, whose… decidedly unconventional behavior suggested that her frigid swim was, in fact, intentional. Silent as the forest surrounding the wolves, Rhiannon observed the other with barely concealed intrigue.

From the corner of a purple-hued eye, a further oddity caught Rhiannon’s attention. It appeared to be by design rather than an accident that each item had been placed -- it pulled her attention away from the bathing she-wolf, an assortment of pebbles and stones made smooth by the flowing of water over centuries. The rocks themselves had undergone change in their existence -- from a crumbling, ancient summit, to a rushing river, to metamorphosis from something jagged and rando into something polished, refined by the hardships it had endured over the many years, and utterly unique. No two stones could ever be the same.

Rhiannon did not dare to touch the treasures belonging to another, and her focus returned to the unknown femme. The smokey enchantress was not sure whether to feel concerned or impressed by the sight as she stood beside the altar.

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lancing downward, she noted that frozen the waters were as crystal clear as ever. Nimue was surprised to find a school of fish dancing beneath the ice so freely although they were seemingly trapped in their Arctic prison. Can you even feel the cold as I do? She asked them mentally, a seed of jealousy forming in her gut.

Her limbs were becoming numb as the pinpricks spread upward. From the tip of her tail the frigid grip rushed up her spine to the base of her neck. This was the final push she needed to recognize that she had to move now and retreat from her frozen haven. Reluctantly, Nimue turned and began to make her way back out of the water and up into the shore, her gaze downcast.

As soon as she exited, her legs were set aflame, the nerves setting to work to save themselves after what she’d put them through. Nimue’s lower half dripped and while any other Wolf might have immediately shaken the excess moisture, she allowed it to cling to her form. She found the weight of it rather comforting, in fact. She grimaced with each step she took and it was not long before the violent shivering began.

Nimue’s dark orbs finally lifted so she could regard her altar, but was surprised to find someone seated next to it. She lifted her head, standing tall as she halted, the storm within her eyes of deep blue beginning to form as she narrowed them. She took her in with a glare that raked across the other fae’s body mercilessly. The girl couldn’t have been that much older or younger than her, amethyst eyes glowing against the earthen tones of her fur.

She had not interacted with another besides her Aunt in what had felt like centuries and the first emotion she felt immediately was anger. Her brief and partial submersion in the waters of Mirror Lake had been an intimate experience and to know that someone had been watching her in her moment of vulnerability left her feeling exposed. She’d been stripped bare in front of an absolute stranger.

Instead of lashing out, however, she gritted her teeth and then calmly greeted the mystery wolfess with her own brew of self-expression. ”Did you enjoy the show there? I might have to charge you for a private viewing…unless you can convince me otherwise…” Nimue’s spoke in a low tone, her words laced with sarcasm. She did her best to keep her shivering under control as she swept over to the opposite side of her Altar, only breaking their gaze to quickly take account of all her items to ensure nothing was tampered with.

Their eyes met again and she searched the face of this other female as she asked, ”What is it that you want from me, little amethyst?”

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H

er steely focus had not been pulled away from the bathing she-wolf -- even when Rhiannon had been noticed by the stranger, she still felt compelled to watch the girl as she emerged from the icy grasp of nature. The expression the other wore was not one of flattery, but rather, the soaked wolfess looked upset. Rhiannon’s facade remained neutral, as it was by her estimation an important skill to contain one’s emotions from their features. Especially around an unknown entity. ”Did you enjoy the show there? I might have to charge you for a private viewing…unless you can convince me otherwise…”

The flesh beneath her smoke-hued pelt began to feel warmer, despite the freezing temperatures, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. ”Pardon me,” she responded simply, eyes dipping away from the other in a rare show of embarrassment. For a second or two, she felt a familiar, roiling shame within her, a memento of a former life. But she was not that sad little girl anymore.

Violet orbs returned to the ocean blue eyes of the stranger. ”I have never been to this lake before, and had not realized it belonged to someone.” Of course, the lake belonged to no one but perhaps a king that Rhiannon paid no heed (and no taxes). But the other was clearly protective. She added in a quieter voice, with a hint of irony in her low tones: ”I believe a squirrel was observing, as well as the trees, not to mention the faes. I would scarcely call this private.” Now, Rhiannon sat, though she doubted the other was nervous in her presence as other femmes might be around a stranger. Brave, indeed.

It was obvious that this creature was freezing, despite her actions, despite her attempts to show otherwise. This made the fae all the more intriguing to Rhiannon, whose expression had softened, demonstrating a hint of her curiosity as the other spoke again. ”What is it that you want from me, little amethyst?” Want? For a lingering moment, the wolfess considered this. ”I -- was merely looking for the one who set up this…” Carefully, she considered her words. Too much knowledge could prove dangerous. But it was not every day that Rhiannon happened upon someone such as this. Her gaze shifted from the altar to the fae. Was she cold? ”Is it a shrine to water?”

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imue watched the girl and observed her reactions to the slightly accusatory tone she took with her. She seemed genuine enough, but then again many tricksters could give you such an impression only to slit your throat in the night. Her eyebrows rose at the purple-orbed fae's musing on ownership of the body of water and the land she stood on.

"Mirror Lake neither belongs to me nor to anyone else despite someone's beliefs, I'm sure..." That was always the way of men...to claim a thing for his own simply because he could although nothing truly belonged to him. Nimue leaned in when the smaller girl lowered her voice and when she registered that the other was practically teasing her back she scoffed, the corner of her mouth just barely twitching as she resisted the urge to smirk. "Ah, then I'll be sure to leave them all a nice bill for a hefty sum."

When she gestured to her altar, Nimue's dark blue orbs flickered dangerously at first as she positioned herself protectively next to what she'd created. Then she realized, the other young woman was not so daft, in fact, she was rather knowledgeable in such a thing. She visibly relaxed and the storm brewing within her eyes dissipated as she betrayed a small smile.

"Brava, my dear. Aren't you sharper than the average blade." Nimue moved around the altar until she stood close enough to the girl to feel the warmth of her body. She side eyed her, lifting a paw to gently reposition some of the small stones and pebbles as she felt they needed to be. "I am the one who arranged the altar to honor this element. And to the cycle of the life and the death it brings."

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"Mirror Lake neither belongs to me nor to anyone else despite someone's beliefs, I'm sure..." The smoky she-wolf flashed a clandestine grin, musing aloud. ”Oh, I am sure this king or that king has laid claim to all of this. But he can never own nature. How could he take something that he is a part of?” The other wolfess made another snarky comment or two, but Rhiannon appeared as if she did not hear it at all. There were more important matters to attend to, and Rhiannon’s interest had only increased at each of the stranger’s responses.


Rhiannon perceived the protectiveness that the other had for her small altar -- her facade gave it away, and the way her slender body moved. The fae examined the objects that had obviously been selected with great care and intent. But why?


”It is a lovely altar,” she stated sincerely. When her amethyst sights returned to the stormy blue eyes of the other, Rhiannon’s head tilted, just barely, as she gazed at her curiously. ”I see that you are fond of the element. But what of the others?” She looked to the expansive water that mirrored the trees that lined its shores -- an aptly named lake, indeed. ”We cannot have just water. It is all a balance.” She paused momentarily in contemplation. For a brief second or two, a distant look appeared in her violet orbs, as if she were looking at something far away. But her focus returned just as quickly as it had vanished, and she gave a soft smile. ”Just as without winter there could be no spring. And, as you stated, no life without death.”




@Nimue

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imue’s eyes brightened a bit more, the storm clouds clearing further as her altar was complimented. She did not vocalize her gratitude, but instead made a dip of her head, allowing herself to be held in the other fae’s purple-hued jewels. She watched curiously as she tilted her head, the beginnings of a question forming on her lips.

It wasn’t what she was expecting and she furrowed her brows. Her expression returned to its defensive state, remaining as still the stone home of her altar while she listened to the musings of this stranger. Nimue stared intensely at her as she gazed out across the lake. She noted the brief distanced look that crossed her features as she spoke and her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied it.

When the attention was on her once again and a soft smile was offered, outwardly she did not falter. On the inside, however, she felt her heart give an awful flutter she’d not known before. She was used to burying emotions as they came, but this sensation, she allowed…at least for the moment.

Nimue smirked and let out a breath of a laugh. “Do you always put words in others’ mouths?” It was meant as a jest, but she could take it how she liked it. “I’ve always had an affinity with water, yet that does not make any of the other elements the lesser. Just as I can call Summer my favorite season and still enjoy Fall, Winter, and Spring. I simply find other ways of celebrating them, is all.” She gave a light shrug, looking over her altar proudly before meeting the girl’s eye again as she spoke her mind without fear, “Tell me, Amethyst…are you a witch?”

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hiannon watched the nameless woman’s features as she spoke, searching for any hint of feeling -- and the other, whether or not she realized it, gave most of this away with the expressions that passed over her face like a storm over the sea. There was a hint of light in the oceanic blue eyes that quickly disappeared under the clouds as she processed Rhiannon’s words. ”“Do you always put words in others’ mouths?” At this, Rhiannon said nothing. Her violet eyes had not turned away from the freckled, feminine features of the fae.


The girl’s next inquiry inspired the hint of a smile, but she remained silent as the other explained her love for the element, which came as no surprise. She is bold, this one. ”A witch?” A facade of feigned dismay appeared, though a hint of mirth lay beneath. ”Is that what you call yourself, dear Sapphire? I can see we are of the same mind, just the same, I believe.”


The stormy woman paused to take a deep breath, features settling into neutrality, neither happy nor sad, as she continued to speak in low tones: ”I have been called many things, but let me tell you this -- my mother named me Rhiannon at birth. I was taught in the ancient traditions of our foremothers. Like you, I have an affinity for the seasons, as for the elements...” Her words drifted to silence as a cold breeze swept through her gray fur, as if she had summoned the gust of air itself. Here, she gave a half smile, for life and its memories were bittersweet. ”If this is indeed witchcraft, then so be it.”

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@Nimue

“A

witch, yes. Did I stutter?” Nimue was clearly enjoying reading the other girl. Upon hearing her new nickname she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. Try as she might, it slipped through and she ducked her head as she let out a chuckle.

”Sapphire and Amethyst.” She let the names draw slowly from her tongue, her expression pensive as she tasted them like a fine wine. A veil was drawn back with this fae’s admittance to sharing similar sentiments. There was a twinkle in her dark blue orbs as Nimue inched closer to her still. ”We make quite a pair then, don’t we?”

Falling silent, her attention was held as she listened to the tales told by the wolfess who was no more a stranger. There was a soft smile offered, Nimue’s ears twitching at the sound of the young woman’s true born name. ”Rhiannon…” She murmured, a warmth spreading in her chest when speaking it aloud herself.

With the gust of wind, came the uncomfortable chill of her still sopping wet fur. Somehow this Rhiannon had enchanted her into forgetting all about it, only for the natural world to remind her. “What you call a thing doesn’t change what it is…witchcraft, shamanism, thaumaturgy, divination, sorcery…all them the same parts that make up the whole. The matriarchs of my mother’s line passed on their knowledge aa well just as yours. And my aunt dabbles in a bit of it all.”

The wind rejoined them to dance with her, carrying a couple of stray dead leaves. Irritated, she swatted one out of the air, ending its fun with a crackle as her paw crushed it against the earth. She’d begun to notice that her shivering had returned, causing her teeth to chatter. She had to calm them with a deep breath in and slow exhale out before she spoke again.

“My name is Nimue, my friends call me Nim, or at least they would…if I had any friends. Anyway, now that we know each other…” Nimue completely invaded Rhiannon’s space as much as she would allow. What she sought was her warmth, attempting to press close to her and tuck her snout into the thick locks of her mane, nuzzling into her and taking in her scent, trembling all the while. “Hope you don’t mind.” She whispered softly, after the fact.

@Rhiannon

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hough the girl before her wore a stoic facade, Rhiannon was an observant creature, and the spark in the other’s eyes did not go unnoticed. One cannot start a fire without a spark. As if on cue, Nimue had moved, just slightly but enough to see, closer to where Rhiannon stood. ”We make quite a pair then, don’t we?” The response she murmured came as gently as a summer’s breeze: ”So it seems.”


Silently she listened as Nimue spoke, offering a faint nod. ”And my aunt dabbles in a bit of it all. ”Where does your interest lie? Magic comes in so many forms. As wolves speak many languages, magic can be translated in various forms. For each, it looks a little different -- or a lot different," she stated with a rare laugh.


She offered her name, finally, and Rhiannon’s ears perked. ”Nimue?” The old stories came rushing back into her consciousness of a mystical woman who dwelled within a lake. Suddenly, the queer behavior of the femme made much more sense to Rhiannon, and she nodded approvingly. ”An apropos name for a lady such as yourself.” Was it any wonder that a woman called Nimue would be unable to resist the cold, even in the dark of winter?


Unsurprisingly, Nimue’s damp coat was nearly as cold as the lake she had appeared from, and though it was not exactly pleasant to feel, Rhiannon still made no attempt to move away as the limited space between their bodies disappeared. “Hope you don’t mind.” A soft breath parted Rhiannon dark lips. ”I was wondering how you could tolerate the cold. Even the Cailleach herself would be chilled.” She rested her chin atop Nimue’s cold head to ease her frozen burden.


@Nimue

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