Chapter Two

Her head throbbed. Absolutely pounded. And it felt like her ears had little bells constantly ringing inside them. Had she been hit on the head? Wynne was too frightened to open her eyes and see what had happened to her. Experimentally, she stretched out her arms and legs, realizing that she was no longer in the woods. The last thing she remembered was that creature... What had it been? And where was she? Obviously she wasn't dead.

Slowly, Wynne forced her eyes to open. Her eyelids were so heavy that if she hadn't known better, she would've thought that they were glued closed. Her surroundings were... Strange, to say the least. This place was nowhere like home. Fortunately, she was alone in the room she had found herself in. On a cushy bed, a fireplace roaring across from her. Her previously paint speckled clothes were folded up in an elegant armchair, the holes in her jeans repaired. She seemed to be in good condition. But what the hell was she wearing if her clothes were on the other side of the room?

Fury coursed through her at that. First, she was hit, then kidnapped, and now someone had undressed her? What else had they done to her when she was unconscious? Balling her hands into fists, letting out a soft hiss at the pain, Wynne dragged herself to a sitting position. She was in a flimsy gown. A nightgown maybe? She seemed to be unscathed, aside from the ache in her head. There was a table next to the bed. A platter holding a teapot, empty teacups, and the most delicious looking biscuits she had ever seen.

Rationality left her as her stomach let out a loud groan. She hadn't eaten since she had left her apartment. Wynne snatched up a biscuit and stuffed it into her mouth. Her fingers were starting to go numb, the multiple sclerosis making it near impossible for her to pour herself a cup of tea as well. Letting out a small cry of frustration, Wynne rose from her spot on the bed.

At the noise she had made, the ancient looking wooden door burst open. A squat creature came bustling in. It had four arms on the side of it's body, and couldn't have stood more than 3 feet tall. It's face seemed smooshed, it's nose two holes underneath it's eyes, no structure to it at all. It's lips were two thin lines, and it's eyes were beady and black. It tried to speak to her in a language she couldn't understand. Wynne just stared at it, frozen in place.

When it realized that she couldn't understand it, it made a noise like it was clearing it's throat and began to speak in English.

"Fear not, child. I'm not here to harm ye. Ye may call me Yerrow. " The creature said, it's voice raspy but distinctively female, bustling over to the tray on the table and pouring two cups of steaming tea.

"What... Are you, Yerrow? " Wynne asked, fascinated as she watched her pour the cups of tea.

"I'm a brownie, dear child. And as for where ye are, this is Summergate, in the land of Loslosach. The Wild Hunt took ye, and ye were brought here. This is the home of the Ghillie Dhu. When The Wild Hunt abandoned you in the woods here, he took you in."

"A.. Brownie? The Ghillie Dhu? You mean... Like the fae tales papa told me when I was little? This can't be real, I must be dreaming! " Wynne's breathing started to become ragged, her throat tightening as she began to panic. She pinched at her arms, hoping to wake herself from this absurd dream. That's what it had to be. There was no way that this was reality!

She let out a yelp at the pain. Realization began to set in. This was real. This wasn't just a horrifying nightmare. This was actually happening. Wynne was stuck in a strange world and she had no idea how to get home, or if she even could. Black spots clouded her vision, struggling to breathe through the panic. She started going through the multiplication table, starting with 2×2. By the time she had reached 128, she was finally able to gasp air into her lungs, her entire body shaking.

Yerrow had merely watched her through this process, unsure what to do to help the woman. She held out a teacup to Wynne, who graciously took the somehow still warm drink. Sipping on it calmed her nerves, and the aroma cleared her head. Wynne could finally think.

"Yerrow, when can I see the Ghillie Dhu?" She asked, planning to get as many answers as anyone would give her.

"Master sent me to dress ye, and attend to yer needs before I brought ye to him." Yerrow replies, gesturing to a dress she had brought in with her that Wynne hadn't taken notice of. It was a shimmering blue, and looked like it was made of some sort of silk. The fabric easily fell below her knees but it didn't quite reach the floor. It had intricate laces on the back, that Wynne had no idea how to tie. Yerrow helped her out of the shift that she had been dressed in, and slid the blue silk over her head. Making quick work of the laces. The dress fit her perfectly, and it flowed with elegance. Yerrow provided a pair of slippers for Wynne to slid on.

"Do ye require anything to eat? I can have food brought here in an instant if it's what ye wish. "

Wynne shook her head. "No, Yerrow. I appreciate how kind you've treated me, but the only things I need are my satchel and answers. "

The bag was immediately retrieved for her, and Yerrow shuffled out of the room, gesturing for the woman to follow. Wynne slung it over her shoulder and followed the brownie woman. It seemed this entire place was carved out of a giant tree. They went down a winding wooden staircase, that felt like it would never end. She spotted a few other brownies as they passed, but they all took one look at the pair and turned away.

Yerrow only paused when it seemed that they had reached the bottom of the tree. There were great craved doors, ones that you'd expect would be too heavy to open on your own, but they pushed open easily. On the other side, there was a majestic field of unnatural flowers, roses lining the doorframe. Thorns reached for Wynne as she followed Yerrow out. They pricked her roughly, leaving small gashes on top of the scar tissue on her hands. Yerrow didn't notice, and Wynne herself couldn't even feel it.

She was focused solely on the man standing in the middle of the field. He was magnificent, and Wynne felt like she was drawn to him. What was this feeling...?