Dont abduct me I'm Welsh!

The not so subtle art of subterfuge.


Mary slumped against the door, constant watchfulness was exhausting, always looking back over her shoulder expecting someone to be following her. The young woman was acutely aware that all she knew about secret government agents, came from films and TV dramas. Still there had to be something to be learned from Bond films, the Bourn identity, and the X files. Numbly she unpacked her shopping, microwave meals. But she did not feel like eating. Mary swallowed down two paracetamol which she had been eating like candy to stave off the migraine – probably stress related - that had been plaguing her for the last few days. The young woman made her way to her room looking down at the hair dye she had just brought, dark chocolate brown. Her hand hesitated above the handle to her room. The strand of hair she had placed across the frame (a bond trick) had fallen to the floor. Her heart pounded a little faster, and her mouth went dry. Someone had been in her room. Images of ransacked draws, and spilled paperwork filled her mind for a moment, before the muffled sound of Jody’s voice singing to one of Mary’s favourite bands reached her along the corridor.

“Jody?” Mary croaked her flatmate’s name, only having to call it again louder this time.

“Yeah?” Finally came the muffled reply.

“Have you been in my room?”

“Yeah, sorry I just borrowed this CD, I didn’t think you would mind.” Jody popped her head around the door, her face covered with a green mud mask.

“It’s fine.” Mary could not help the gurgle of helpless laughter that escaped her. It was laugh or burst out crying in relief.

Jody screwed up her face. “What?”

“Your face! You look like Shrek.”

“Ah. It’s a special seaweed mask to help clear my pores.” Jody explained. On her legs was hair remover, and under her arm pits too, so she had to walk in a strange john Wayne esque style.

“Right, any reason for this extreme grooming, other then your incurable vanity?”

“More like nymphomania. Have you seen our new neighbour; one word FIT!”

“New neighbour?” Mary hated that she was instant suspicious.

“Yeah, he moved in today; doing some kind of postgraduate thing at the university. Ohmygod he has the cutest American accent, and in a white T shirt well, lets just say yum!”

“Slut.” Mary smiled, Jody had a very healthy apatite when it came to the opposite sex. It must have been nice to have something so normal to worry about, rather then secret agents or Aliens. Her life was getting far too much like the X files for her taste – Mary didn’t even really like sci – fi, she hadn’t even watched a whole episode of Star trek.

“Mary, is anything wrong, you seem a bit strung out? I mean you’re a bit young for a midlife crisis.”

“I..” Mary faltered. “It’s just the interviews. The job hunt’s got me stressed out.”

“Ok, if that’s it.” Jody shrugged, going back in to her own room.

Her room was in the perfect disorder that she had left it. Mary gave it a quick once over, searching for bugs – as if she would have even known what she was looking for - before giving up and collapsed on to her bed. She read the instructions on the dark hair dye box – a Bourn identity trick - it seemed like a good idea. She yawned as they became suddenly very involved and turned over facing herself in the mirror on her dresser, the light of her bedside lamp threw in to stark contrast the dark circles below he eyes and the pallor of her skin. The only bright thing about her was her guinny golden curls – the same short golden curls that had earned her nicks names over the years of Goldie locks, and Meggy (a take on the famous actress.) A memory came to her unbidden, lying against Val drowsy and sated just after love making. He was smiling down at her upturned face, so unbelievably hansom, his fingers twiddling one of her golden locks. The Elf’s voice was deep, and beautifully male. “Your hair, it is like the sun light spun in to silk. Or a thick wave of honey.”

Mary covered her face. God, everything about this situation sucked. She couldn’t keep this up. Why should she have to change her life? In a fit of sudden anger, and with a curse, Mary threw the box of hair dye across the room. It bounced down the corridor as she drummed her heals against the bed, and thumped the pillow in frustration.

Jody looking out of her room in curiosity, picked it up and came to her. “Thinking of a change?”

“No.” Mary said defiantly.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t suit going dark. You would look too washed out.”

The blond woman looked dolefully up at her friend.

“All this fuss over a dude.” Jody teased, in a poor mock surfer accent.

“What?”

“Please, You’re so obviously moping about that foreigner of yours.”

Mary looked honestly appalled. “It’s not about Val! I’m just …”

“Stressed.” Her friend supplied helpfully, then grinned with mischief. “Over a l.o.v.e.r! ” She had to duck as Mary threw a pillow at her head.

“I already told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jody only laughed, retreating. “Chill out Mary, or someone is going to think you have something to hide!”

Mary grumbled as she threw herself back down on the bed. But something Jody had said struck true. Flipping back her curtain she glanced up at the buildings opposite as she considered this. If they were watching her, they would be looking for her behaving suspiciously. With all this paranoia, she was behaving like she was guilty. She was playing in to their hands. Mary bit her nail in thought. It was becoming apparent that Val was not coming for her, so technically she had nothing to hide. If they had anything on her, then they would have detained her. All she had to do was act normal, and get on with her life. Eventually they would have to leave her alone.


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The room was dark, a silence of anticipation filling the space between the small group of elf warriors. The door opened, and someone slid in, trying to avoid being seen. The shadow spoke. “Everything is ready.”

“Well done Rillian. I knew I could count on you.”

“Of course.”

Silence fell for a moment or two more, then a small light was light illuminating the faces of the conspirators. “Well it looks like we are all here now.” Valdagerion scanned them intently. Rillian was there of course, dark haired Darrah to had decided to come, unable to pass up an opportunity to see the human’s home world, and finaly Parran was there, looking distinctly odd in armour and not in his customary healers robes.

“Just so you are all aware, this is going to be piracy. If we are caught, the penalty is death.”

“We know.” Parran said softly.

Darrah’s mouth quirked in to a small smile. “Rhi'Arran We still want to come with you.”

Valdagerion sighed. “I am not your lord, if you come it’s as my friend only. This in no way serves the empire.”

Rillian placed his hand on Valdagerion’s shoulder. “As your friend, I would follow you to the ends of the universe, am I right?” The outher's nodded, their hands covering Rillian’s.

Valdagerion looked gratefully up at them, before getting back to the business at hand. The plan was daring, at best. They would stow away in some sub refrigeration cargo units, their Klaress armour suits would protect them from the worst of the cold, but they would still need to go in to hibernation to survive. Hence the small box of blue vials that Peran had before him on his lap. When they were in deep space they would then emerge from hibernation and hijack the ship. At the nearest non Imperial port they would leave the crew, hopefully there was enough of them to pilot the ship. It sounded simple – but one mistake cold be fatal.


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Louis Baptiste finished off his coffee, some instant junk, not the rich dark bitter brew of his home in New Orleans. He looked out at the city below him. Cardiff was an odd place, he had been living in London and thought that he had come to understand the brits, but Cardiff with the welsh language and peculiar but not unattractive lilting accent really was something different, unknown. Boxes of stuff – not his – still littered the place. There wasn’t much point in unpacking yet, if all went well he would be done in a day or two and back to civilisation.

In a hidden section of his briefcase he drew out a call case, inside was a few small vials and a set of the kind of needles a diabetic might have. But this was no insulin, this was some kind of government super drug – Louis had never been willing to ask to closely about the specifics. He looked down at them for a few moments.
What a sick joke, he thought. “Blue to bring you up, red to take you down.” He laughed to himself, before he drew the dose, and tapped up a vain. Biting his lip he managed to inject himself, though how junkies did this day in day out completely befuddled Louis, he hated this. Now he just had to wait for it to work.

Methodically he switched off his computer and then all the lights before he lit a number of candles, and then switched in a tape player – a drum beat and chanting becoming clearer over the static. The music and the dancing light of the candles transforming the small tastefully characterless room in to something exotic and different, the dark and wild bayou of his home.

From his pocket he drew out a small cloth bag, his Gris – gris, a gift from his Grandma laying it on the side table as he lay out on the floor, studying a photo of the target. He sighed, relaxing hands behind his head attempting concentration.

Footsteps echoed above him, and he cocked open one eye. “Thin walls. Dam, this ritual is always easier with the snake.”

Still one had to manage with what one had. He turned his attention to the music, the only recording he had of one of his Grandma’s Voodoo ceremony. He smiled to himself, Queen –ma. He could almost smell her. And then just like that he had reached the right meditive state.

Louis’s mind floated up, it was not like an out of body experience. He did not exactly see the rooms. But he could sense all those close, read their thoughts as if they were his own. It was always a bit like being at an over crowded party, with all the radios, TV’s , vacuum, and the blender on in the house at first – then with some effort Louis could zone in to what he wanted after a little while. Some people might like to have called him clairvoyant – some a freak – some plain crazy - some a tripping junkie - his grandma, the voodoo queen had called him blessed - the government labels him telepathic. All he knew was that sometimes he could hear people’s thoughts. That’s why he had this gig.Louis didn’t really care – it was just a job, not a calling. Though usually he was sitting in the interrogations of spies, terrorists, or even killers. It was dirty work going in to people’s minds like that, and it could be fairly unpleasant for the person being read like that. Like a headache from hell. Still more humane then torture.

First was the target’s flat mate, he had met her earlier; the same lilting accent, wide hazel eyes, and almost hazel hair. A red hot aura, post box red as the Brits would say. Jody – that was her name, smiley, sexy, and she had defiantly been flirting with him, not that he minded, she had a great rack on her. She was watching a re run film, Troy – dam girl! Louis backed up quickly, what that girl wanted to do to Brad Pitt he was sure was illegal in at least four states. Dam!

OK, Baptiste – back on target.

He moved through the house, seeking her out. Mary Elgar’s aura had been pretty distinctive, pale gold, like a halo. Huh, now that was weird. He could sense her, a bit like playing blind man’s buff, she was there he knew it, just where….. Ah, there she was. Weary, he felt out her mind, she was sleeping, but he couldn’t see any more.

Huh, that was weird.

The only people who could block him like this was Queen-ma when she was alive, and the other telepaths he had worked with.

He studied her defences. He wanted to read her without her knowing. That was the tricky part, as i could only be done on a sleeping mind, some how he needed to just slip in to her mind like a shadow. The only way to do that was to know it well, find the cracks. It was just going to take time and patience, like courting a girl. So he studied Mary Elgar, golden her mind was a shimmering gold, warm, welcoming, feminine, if it had a smell her mind would be honey, milk, vanilla, and hint of spicy cinnamon. There was something very soothing and drawing about her presence, like the flickering light of a candle. All he had to do now was reach out, gently now…

A ringing broke his concentration.

The other voices roared back, like a traffic accident. That was the only problem with the drugs, yes they made his “gift” stronger, alowed him to reliably send his mind out of his body, but they striped any defences he had bare and he was left raw to the static of everyone else’s mind. In a city this was not much fun, and he missed the quiet of the bayou. He came back to himself, and a massive headache. He knew from experience that no amount of asparin was going to cure. He blindly reached out for his Gris – gris. Queenma help. He prayed silently more from habit than anything. All the same his pain eased just a little. The Placebo effect, what a wonderful thing!

Now what was that persistent ringing? Ah, his phone. “Helo.” He answered in a pained croak.

“Yer’a no sleeping are ye?” A rough Scottish brogue demanded. “Yer been living in London the last few months so it cana be jet lag.”

“No, I was working.” Bloody Sergeant Boyd, Louis did not know if he was a Sergeant or not in actuality. But he was ex military. It went a long way to explain how tapped the man was – like some frickin nam veteran. Or experiment.

“Well it looks a lot like sleeping from here.”

Louis grunted, and looked out the window at the next building. “I was meditating. I need to, to you know….” Boyd waved back – Prick.

“Did you find out anything?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

God, the man was an asshole. “You interrupted me that’s why. Now if you don’t mind I’m sure that you have been briefed on the side affects that I get, right now I’m in a lot of pain.”

“Mr Barkley may have mentioned something about them. Noting a few wee parecetamol wont cure.”

“I’m sure to let the doctors know next time I see them.”Loius sighed, “Goodnight.” He suspected that the bastard had done it on purpose.

With shaking hands he dosed himself with the second vial, feeling disgusted with himself. Still he just had to remind himself it was all in the name of public security. After a while and feeling more human, he picked up the discarded photo. It seemed like he was going to have to get a bit closer to the girl, not that he minded.


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“In bed again?”

Mary groaned and lifted her dishevelled head from the pillow. Jody was standing in the door way looking disgustingly pert.

“So I guess your not coming out then?” Jody pouted. Mary blinked, taking in the other girl’s short skirt and high heals. “Marrrryyyyyyy, you said you would.”

Mary shoved at the curls falling across her face, and then looked up at her friend apologetically. “I’m sorry. This week has just really taken it out of me.”

“Are you still not feeling better?” Jody asked with concern, referring to random flu type symptoms Mary had been getting that came and went mysteriously since a fortnight ago.

“Just achy and a bit headachy. But sitting all day at a computer will do that. I guess I need some ecanatia tea or something.”

“Well if you change your mind I have my mobile on me. Ok?”

“Sure. Have a good time.”

Mary listened to Jody trot down the corridor on her high heals, and then the door closing, the flat going perfectly dark. She sighed, she was being a shitty friend. Jody was letting her stay in her flat for free until Mary’s first pay check from the temping work she had got came through. It was supposed to be giving her time to look for a new job. New job, new city, and new life, fresh new start; Just what the doctor ordered. Jody had planed an itinery of things that Mary would have jumped at a few weeks ago, but now all she really wanted to do was to be left alone. She also had not been lying about feeling ill - Mary felt totally drained.

Now awake and alone emptiness yawned before her like a great void. Her mind was always seeking, seeking the elf and finding nothing, only black. Nothing. She had never felt so alone. Isolated amongst her friends, fear of discovery ate at her, and at night her grief became a terrible thing, growing and growing like a great maw threatening to consume her in despair until she had to fling herself from bed and find something to do with herself. She was exhausted fighting with herself. The only time she felt any solace was when she was asleep, and fancied that she could almost touch him across space and time. In her dreams, he was always coming for her.

She got up, getting herself some more painkillers to fight of the ache that seemed to have sunk deep in to her bones. Just what she needed flu as well as heartache! Feeling the cold she pulled on an oversized cashmere jumper and made her way to the living room, perfectly at home in the dark. Opening the window to let in the cool air and the noise of the city at night was comforting somewhat, a link to the real world, the world out there.

Curled up on the sofa, with a hot water bottle she picked up the book she had been reading. Somewhat morbidly Mary had sought out the old tales about elf’s. It surprised her how far they went back and she suspected that some of the stories about certain pagan gods her alien friends might have something to answer for. The Norse tales rang the most true, a race of magically powerful beings who were tall, fairer then the sun, beautiful, great warriors, and could heal wounds that no mortal could. Check, check and check. If she ever saw Val again she was going to ask him had he been in dark ages Norway, or Anglo Saxon England.

Mary jumped, when a tattoo of knocks rattled the door. Cautiously she went to the door, and opened it a crack. Standing smiling down at her, was a tall well muscled young man. He had a mop of black curly hair, skin the colour of a late, and rather pretty green eyes. “Hey there.” He said in a peculiar drawling American accent, and a wide smile showing off what had to be chemically whitened teeth. He was probably one of Jody’s squeezes. “Mary right?” He held out his hand obviously expecting her to take it. Since her return Mary had learned that touching people’s bare skin was a no go, not unless she wanted to know everything about them. When Mary just stood there eyebrows quirked in an enquiring line, his smile faltered a little and he put his hand away. “I’m your new neighbour, from downstairs.”

Realisation dawned on Mary, this must be the “FIT,” American that Jody had been talking about. “Oh, hi. Sorry I didn’t twig at first, my flat mate told me about you.”

“Yeah, Jody right? She helped me move in.”

Mary studied the outlines of muscle under the faded blue T-shirt he wore. Jody was right he was fit. She chuckled a little. “Knowing Jody I don’t suspect that she was much help.”

The American smiled conspirtaly back. He really was rather cute. “Not really, nice to have such pleasant company though Cheri.” Mary did not miss the appreciative look he raked over her – not a purvey leer exactly – but defiantly an appreciative look. “I’m Louis by the way.” He pulled out a cup wiggling it at her. “I don’t suppose a neighbour can borrow some sugar?”

“Seriously?” Mary was incredulous. “I thought that it was a film cliché?”

“Cheri, I’m deadly serious. I am dying for a cup of coffee.”

“You know there is a 24 hour tescos on the next round about.”

“Tescos?”

“It’s a supermarket.”

“Ah.” He said. “Ok, well I will just go and look there then.”

Mary regretted her coldness instantly, it wasn’t her nature. Paranoia was making her in to a seriously hateful bitch. Besides he was cute. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we have some sugar we can spare. Come in.” She smiled slightly, at the goofy pleased look on the American’s hansom face.


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Louis was taken back for a moment. The young woman’s cold welcome was a counterpoint to her appearance, which was sexy girl next door. Everything was inviting about her, from her golden hair, softly curling about her elfin face, and clear peachy skin, even the soft - cudalable - oversized pink sweater, that could only be described as sexy. It was not quite see through so that her curves were hinted through it in the right light, the jumper hung off her one shoulder, and revealed a very becoming length of leg. But the most striking thing about her were her eyes, they were deep sapphire blue, large and wide. The kind of eyes you could drown in, the kind of eyes that reminded you of wide open skies, and clear cool waters.

The first time that Louis had seen the target, he had not had much chance to gain an impression. At a glance she had been a small, blonde, with a neat figure. Looking at the case pictures - surveillance pictures are never the most flattering - he decided that Mary Elgar was pretty but nothing out of the ordinary. But on second meeting, he had to rectify that huge oversight – there was just something about her.

He stayed in the living room as Mary went in to the kitchen, obviously rooting around for the sugar. Louis looked about the flat, unlike his this one was decorated – just shy of messy. Purple, mauve, cream, teal and gold were his impressions of the colours. Pictures were stuck up on a cork bored on the one wall, mostly of the flat mate – but there were a number of Mary as well, all nights out in various stages of inebriation. Like all girls flats it smelt good – of woman. He might not be a “real intelligence agent” but he knew people, even without reading their minds his instincts were really wrong.

“Hey, I don’t suppose you want a tea, or a coffee do you?” Mary’s voice floated back to him from the kitchen.

Louis knew to his disappointment that in England being offered a coffee generally meant exactly that. “Um, sure. Yeah, a Coffee would be great. Thanks Cheri.”

“So have you finished moving in?” The girl was trying to make polite conversation.

“Not really.” He replied. “Everything is still in boxes, I guess I will get down to it in a few days.”

“Hmm, I know what you mean. It’s such a hassle. I have only just moved down here recently.”

An awkward pause as she thought of a topic. “So how are you enjoying Wales so far?”It was amazing how much of a 180 the girl’s attitude had done in only a few moments, and Louis found himself enjoying the soft tones of her voice. He could practically feel the smile in her voice. Under all that ice he knew there was a warm humorous female. One that he found himself actually quite interested in knowing.

“I haven’t seen much of it. But yeah, it’s nice so far.”

“Jody said you’re at the university.”

“Yeah, I’, doing my PHD.”

“Oh, cool what in?”

Shit, think fast Louis! “Ecology.”

“That must be interesting.” Mary said, in a tone that clearly said that she was not even a tiny bit interested. Thank gods, it meant that she was not going to ask any more about it.

“So where are you from? I can’t place your accent. It’s like a bit frenchy even though I know you’re from America.”

“It’s Creole – I’m from New Orleans, Cheri. Your accent’s not really that Welsh.”

“Not really, no. That’s a private school education for you.” She replied. “But I am Welsh.”

Louis had sat himself down. On the table were a number of books. You could tell a lot about people by the kind of books they read. A history of fairy stories, Popular religion in late saxon England; elf charms in context, Norse mythology, Popular Scottish ballads, The real middle earth.

Turning to where her book mark lay he read the first paragraph.

“On lake shores, where the forest met the lake, you could find elf circles. They were round places where the grass had been flattened like a floor. Elves had danced there. By Lake Tisaren I have seen one of those. It could be dangerous and one could become ill if one had trodden over such a place or if one destroyed anything there.”

He flicked through to the dog eared chapters. Huh, elf’s. Mary didn’t really strike him as a Lord of the rings aficionado, but who knows Orlando Bloom in tight leggings seemed to make gals crazy. He leafed through another book, more fairy tales. Surely Mary was a bit too old for these?

He looked up as Mary brought through a tray of goodies, including what looked like a café tier full of real steaming black coffee. “I think I might love you Cheri.” He said. “I haven’t had proper coffee in a while!”

The young woman blushed, and put the cups down. He took a deep breath of the almost smoky, bitter sent with relish. When she poured out a cup, he caught a glimpse of cleavage. The coffee was everything that the sent had promised it to be. And for a little while they talked polite nothings, and he watched the girl visibly relax in his presence, curling up like a house cat on the chair the other side of the room. He still had not got a chance to touch her and read her, but for now he was quite content to get to know her the good old fashioned way – he actually felt normal for once, sitting here all civilised and chatting with a pretty girl over a coffee. No government, no terrorists. He might have even been flirting. And even if Mary Elgar was not exactly jumping on him, she had not rebuffed him. Actually he kind of liked her oh so English reserve.

“So you like elf’s?”

“Why do you ask?” The young woman stiffened, and he could practically see the ice freeze back over her eyes. That was odd.

Louis nodded at the books. “I just noticed all your reading materials. Are you taking a class or something?”

“No.” The girl hesitated for a moment, she bit her lip a swift nervous gesture – he doubted that she even knew she had done it. She was about to lie – but why? “It’s just an interest of sorts.”

He kept his tone light. “Some interest, you must have a small library here. Why elfs?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged defensively. “I just kind of got interested in the history of them.”

“How?”

Mary laughed, but it was slightly brittle. “I can’t really remember.” That defiantly was a lie. “Why are you interested?”

“I like stories, and you interest me Cheri.” He said, and she blushed again.

“Here I read this first, did you know that the whole Cinderella, sleeping butties storeys are quite different from the original stories. Fairies weren’t exactly pleasant – at best they were benign.” Mary almost sounded enthusiastic now. “There are a lot of stories of abduction, humans taken to fairyland to become lovers to the Fay.”

“I take it doesn’t end well for the humans?”

She shook her head. “No.” There was something a little wistful in her tone. “No, it never does.”

He glanced over a poem named the Earlking where a child was snatched away by something not far off the grim reaper. “Hmm, I don’t think Disney would be interested in this. This would probably scare the children for life Cheri.”

Loius passed her back the book, his hand deliberately bumping against hers. The first time he felt it was like a burn, painful. But now he realised it was just a sensation like any other, one that he just had to get used to, and get ready to process the alien images and emotions. The minuet that his mind met her’s, he saw her stiffen. Mary looked up at him. This time she really did look at him and he felt the full force of those blue, blue eyes. “You didn’t take any sugar in your coffee.” Her voice was accusatory.

He looked down at his now empty cup. “No.” he said carefully. Hell, she was observant. “I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“I know your lying.” She stated. Well so are you honey; he thought but did not voice it. Instead he said nothing. Mary stood, the ice queen once more. “Why are you here?”

Louis put on his best innocent face, standing as well, a good head and neck above her. “Ok, look it might seem corny, but I just wanted to meet you.”

Mary’s eyes widened, and her lips parted in surprise. Touché Cheri. It took her a moment to answer. “But why?”

He lifted his eyes to hers and smiled. “I hoped that was pretty obvious. I saw you the other day, and chickened out from saying hi. It took me a while to work my nerve up.”

The girl looked outsanded. Her suspicion was fading at this bold admission. Oddly it had not entirely been an untruth. “You don’t even know me.”

“But I want to.” He grinned. “And seriously I wanted the sugar. Don’t tell anyone but I wanted it for my sugar puffs in the morning.”

“But they are already so sweet.”

“I’m an American, we loooovvvee our sugar.”

“Urggh, well you deserve for all your teeth to fall out then.”

“So can I see you again, or have you already decided that I am a dangerous stalker.”

The girl glanced up at him speculatively. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“About what?”

“Either. I think you might just be mad.”

“Probably Cheri, but you know what they say. You should humour the mad.” He grinned again, and took up a slim volume of poetry, heading for the door.

“Hey what are you doing that’s mine!” Mary rushed after Louis. “Give that back.”

“Not tonight Cheri.” He smiled. “I will keep this with me and then you will have to see me no?”

The blond woman began laughing. “You know you are a real tool.” Surprising him, she pushed him from the flat. “Go on, before I change my mind and throttle you.”

He felt his face brake in to a boyish grin. “So I get to see you again?”

Mary was leaning against the door post. “Perhaps.”

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Louis was back in his own flat. He slowly read through a poem on the most worn page of the slim volume, it was by a poet he did not recognise called “The fairy host.” Instinct told him that there was something important about it, but what? What was the secret that Mary Elgar was hiding?


It is by yonder thorn that I saw the fairy host
(O low night wind, O wind of the west!)
My love rode by, there was gold upon his brow,
And since that day I can neither eat nor rest.

I dare not pray lest I should forget his face
(O black north wind blowing cold beneath the sky!)
His face and his eyes shine between me and the sun:
If I may not be with him I would rather die.

They tell me I am cursed and I will lose my soul,
(O red wind shrieking o're the thorn-grown dun!)
But he is my love and I go to him to-night,
Who rides when the thorn glistens white beneath the moon.

He will call my name and lift me to his breast,
(Blow soft O wind 'neath the stars of the south!)
I care not for heaven and I fear not hell
If I have but the kisses of his proud red mouth.


The MI7 agent dismissed it as romantic drivel. He wasn’t going to learn anything from the book. Still it was not a wasted evening, with that one brief touch he had gained the key to the young woman’s mind and that night he put it to good use.

Once again he waited until he was sure that she was deep asleep. Like a gator he slipped in to her dreaming mind, undetected in the gloom of the subconscious. All he did was observe – moving with the currents of her mind, simply seeing what she saw.

Ok, the girl really did have elf’s on the brain. Her dream was her wrapped up in bed with a figure very much like legolas. The English certainly were eccentric. It was at this point he decided that he should beat a hasty retreat. Tonight she was a secret that he was not going to solve.


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A/N: Thank you for the reviews, you guys are amazing. Life has been horribly hectic and has not left me much time. Cross fingers it should get better. For all who are waiting, Val is back next chapter – and boy is he back!

1. The poem is by Moireen fox, I wish I could remember what book it is from bit I can’t. In some ways it was the poem that inspired me to write this story. But its you readers who inspire me to continue with it :)