Part 1: The Hound and The Harp

Finn knew there were faeries out in the woods. He knew because he could faintly hear their music every night.

Since he was a boy, he would always go looking for a sign of the fair folk. Every day he would set aside time to wait in his favorite tree, the big gnarled oak with the branches bent toward the ground, and wait for something to move. Once or twice he may have caught a glimpse of a shimmering wing, but the moment he turned his eyes towards it, it disappeared.

Nowadays, Finn had little time to go back to that tree. He was now a young man of twenty-two summers, with a job at the village woodcutter’s shop. He would always return with his long chestnut hair tied back, so as it wouldn’t get cut in the way, and his roughened hands free of the previous day’s splinters. But as he looked back at the raw wood that piled up by the door, he couldn’t help but think of the tree… and the faeries.

“Finn!” barked a voice, stirring the dreaming man from his daydreams. The chief woodcutter, Ramsey, hardly tolerated Finn’s fancies. He didn’t look like the man who would; he was brawny and stern with a whiskbroom mustache and a horrible temper.

“I’m sorry, Ramsey!” Finn replied hastily, gathering a handful of spare wood. “I was… uh… thinking about today’s income!”

Ramsey shot Finn a dirty look. He knew he was lying. “You know, boy, I think it’s time now that you stop fiddling around and start going out into the forest. Maybe then you could chop down some trees and put those muscles to work!”

Without a word, Finn took his axe and satchel and obliged. Before he finally opened the door and left, he turned back. “Oh, and can Juniper come with me?”

The old red hound who had been sleeping in the corner perked her ears up at the mention of her name. On three graying legs, she stood up and hobbled to Finn’s side. She loved him, with his wood-smoke smell and gentle touches. When he saw her there, he gave her a gentle scratch behind the ears, and she licked his palm.

As they headed into the village of Vala, Finn couldn’t help but look around. All around him, the air resonated with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares from their little wooden stalls. The squawking of the chickens in their cages, the neighing and pawing of the horses tied up to their posts, and the bleating of the wandering goats all mingled in a symphony of charming cacophony. Bunches of wildflowers and herbs brightened the view with many-colored bursts, and all manner of meats and breads sat out on display, tempting to the eye as well as to the tongue. Juniper had lost her vision long ago, but the smells of meats, herbs and dung filled her wet black nose, setting her spirits alight.

Finn, however, longed for the quiet and the green of the forest. He wanted to be able to hear the quiet pitter-pat of deer hooves, the lapping of tongues at the pool, the solitary song of a robin or two. Everything here was just… too much.

Sighing, he laid two copper coins on the tanner’s counter, picked out a single slice of venison jerky, and fed it to his loyal hound, who gladly wolfed it down. With that, he headed off towards the emerald edge of the forest. The sounds and smells of before grew faint behind him, enveloping him and Juniper in a dewy world of clover-green. The trees had grown straight and tall like soldiers, and the ground lay scattered with a carpet of moss, sticks and leaves.

“Well, Juni, I think we’re here.”

Juniper gave a whine of agreement, then trotted off into a clearing. Finn followed shortly behind, leaving his axe on the ground to rust. He soon found himself at the bank of a clear, rushing brook, deep enough to wade waist-deep in. Above the rambling of the water, he could make out the plucking strings of a harp. Faerie music, perchance.

“So it’s true,” he thought. “It’s really true.”

Part 2: Luca

The stream looked so cool and fresh compared to the stuffy heat of the shop he worked in. Knowing he wouldn’t be here long, Finn took of one boot, then the other, then untied his hair, eventually giving in and diving into the water with only his pants still on.

At once, a blast of icy freshness hit his face, like nothing he had ever known before. The chilly water surrounded him, invigorating him. Intoxicated by the frigid water, he pulled his head back up to Juniper splashing about, licking up the water around her… and an unfamiliar, yet alluring stranger.

Everything about him seemed to signify faerie bloodlines, from his dark skin and willowy figure, to his piercing green eyes, to the dots of pale green and white scattered across his face, chest and arms.

“Excuse me, but what are you doing here?” asked the stranger.

Finn paused, then started back up again. “I was… uh… looking for signs of faeries. Like I usually do.”

The faerie studied Finn up and down. Red hair, gray eyes, rather short… was this the one who he had studied all those years ago? He’d gotten so… rugged… and muscular… was that stubble there before?... or all that chest hair?... oh, those arms are so firm… HUH? No sooner had he lost himself in thought than he was skin-to-skin, chest-to-chest with the human.

“Wait, what?” Finn spluttered, pushing this new face away. “We’ve only just met! Besides, I hardly even know your name.”

“Luca. It’s Luca.”

“Well, Luca, it was a pleasure meeting you, though, I must say, a bit awkward.”

Luca ran a hand through his short, thick, fern-green locks, parting it like grass. “Sorry about that. I tend to get a little… infatuated at times. Mostly with other humans. Human men. Is that strange or anything? Anyway, weren’t you that boy from the big oak tree in that clearing over there?”

How did he know about the tree? How did he know exactly which tree? Dumbfounded and blushing profusely, Finn nodded, then proceeded to climb out of the river. He was about to unroll his shirt and pull it back on until caught off guard by Luca’s cries of “No! Stay! Please, don’t leave!”

“You know, I’d love to stay, but I have some woodcutting to do—”

“NO,” Luca insisted, tugging on Finn’s arm. “STAY.”

“But… I have a job to do. My boss is going to skin me alive if I don’t return with any wood.”

Luca waved a fond goodbye and handed Finn his axe back. “Good luck, then. And remember to put your boots back on!”

Part 3: A Midnight Meeting

The rest of the day went on as planned, with Finn and Juniper returning home to Vala and Ramsey’s shop with a good armful of wood. The sun was just beginning to set, so he had little time to stay.

“You did a decent job, boy,” Ramsey grumbled, dropping a modest amount of coins into Finn’s hands. “Now go home and get some sleep. You don’t work so well when your tired.”

“Ramsey, I’m not a child anymore.” Finn pocketed his earnings, fidgeting a bit. “It’s the Moonbow Festival tonight, and I’ve never been allowed to go—”

“GO TO SLEEP, FINN.”

Once again, Finn followed his boss’s orders, heading back off to his own house. It was a quaint little place, a small but cozy mix of stone and plant growth that had accumulated over the years. It was falling apart, but hey, it was home.

Ramsey was right. Woodcutting WAS a tiring job. And stiffening, too. Maybe he could just boil some mint leaves in water and then drink it before going to bed.

And that was just what he did.

He was right on the blissful cusp of dreaming when something awoke him, a shaking.

“Hey. Hey human. Wake up! Wake uuuup…”

Finn awoke to find a figure, clad in white and standing over him. He was too bleary-eyed to make out the face though.

“I have a name, you know. Maybe instead of human, you could call me Finn next time.”

“Hmm, Finn. That’s a nice name. Anyway, I’ve got something special planned for you.”

The blurriness subsided, and it turned out to be Luca, all dressed up in intricate white robes, his eyes, cheeks and lips painted with silver.

“Luca, I have to sleep. Ramsey says I need to get enough rest.”

“Oh, and by the way, I gave you a change of clothes and braided your hair all pretty so you wouldn’t be cold out in the night.”

Finn, who had only known the rough comforts of working life, stared down speechlessly at his body. He was now clothed in a suit of iridescent fabric and white fur, the likes and softness of which he had never felt before, even in the hunter’s pelts or the foreign merchant’s silks. He couldn’t see his hair, for it was tied up behind him, but it felt so… intricate.

“Do you know what the Moonbow Festival is, Finn?”

“Not exactly…”

“Every once in a moonbow, one of the children of the Faerie King Oberon offers his hand in marriage to their assigned partner. It’s my turn now, and I know exactly who I’m going to end up with…”

“Yes, and why am I supposed to care?”

“IT’S YOU.”

Part 4: Wolf Bleeds White

Once again, Finn fell silent as Luca dragged him into the town square, where thousands of masked revelers, human and faerie, were gathered around an awning of silver flowers, a mass of hidden faces all clad in white. There, in the center of the altar, stood Oberon himself, his ice-hued swallowtail wings spread. At his side was a wolf with a pelt the color of bleached bones, its red eyes never blinking. Above them all, the moon cast her frost-white gaze, surrounded by a halo.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Luca squeezed Finn’s hand tightly. “We’re finally going to be together forever, eternally youthful and ever-so happy…”

“Yeah...exciting. Look, Luca, I only know your name, and as far as you go, you only know mine.”

A hush fell over the crowd as the two approached Oberon and his wolf. The faerie king surveyed the two with his ice-blue eyes. He had barely opened his ashen lips when a chill ran up Finn’s spine.

“Now, my son, you have decided on a partner?”

Luca nodded, and Finn’s skin grew clammy. With a pale and cold hand, Oberon drew a bone dagger from his belt, still clean after many a use, the handle encrusted with rubies, aquamarine and onyx. “Do you know what they say about wolf blood and marriage, Luca?”

Luca’s eyes brightened. He had known the rhyme since his childhood. “Wolf bleeds white, and your love is right. Wolf bleeds red, and your love is dead.”

As if on command, the wolf opened its mouth, pale pink and scarred. Luca cupped his hands under its gaping maw, awaiting the sure sign. Finn followed along with his action, trying not to appear ignorant.

Without hesitation, Oberon slit the wolf’s tongue, letting milky blood into Luca’s hand. At that moment, all of Finn’s hopes were dashed to splinters. Not like glass, like wood, showering splinters everywhere, stinging, sinking deeper.

“The ritual isn’t over yet, human.” Oberon’s icy voice shook Finn from his stupor. As soon as he had drifted off, the wolf’s scar had healed itself. Finn closed his eyes, awaiting the flood of white… and when he opened them, he had a handful of red liquid.

The whole crowd let out a collective “WHAT?!” Even Finn, though quietly. Luca’s eyes welled up with tears.

“Impossible!” cried Oberon, aghast.

“That’s right. Your majesty, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you can’t marry a man you just met.” Finn stood up to the surprise of the crowd. “Even mere humans know that love is more than just a meeting, then a courting, then a happily ever after, like in some… faerie tale!”

The faeries gasped and recoiled at the slur.

“Pardon my language, everyone.” Finn calmed himself, letting the blood on his hands spill to the ground, then imprinting a red hand on Luca’s cheek. “Look. Luca and I are friends, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that… one shouldn’t base love off of simple infatuations. Take, for example, the seed. One cannot expect a fine tree in one day. Like a tree, love takes time. Now, what does that say about your silly festival?”

“And what do you know about trees, woodcutter?” Oberon scoffed.

“I have known trees since childhood. Every day, I would steal away to the forest and look for you. In the absence of faeries, I watched the trees. Each day they would grow taller, until I cut them down. Love… love is like that. It needs time to grow.”

Silence, then the crowd took to cheering. Even Luca stood up and smiled at Finn. Was it just him, or did he look more beautiful in the moonlight?

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?” He caressed Finn’s face with one dark hand, painting a white stripe.

Without another word, Finn drew Luca in for a hug. In the seconds following the embrace, they bid each other a fond goodbye and went their separate ways.

Maybe they would meet again. Maybe not. One thing was for certain: they would always remain friends, no matter what.