Chapter Text
A dry twig snapped under the pressure of a boot. The sound of it startled a bird; the animal stopped chirping and flew away, beating its wings frantically. Brigitte stopped dead in her tracks, clenching her jaw. An axe flung across her back felt heavier than ever. She adjusted the stap, for the umpteenth time since she entered the woods, and looked around, making sure the bird didn't get anyone's attention. Only then she dared to let out a sigh. Not a single person in sight, only some more birds and bugs, as usual. Nothing to worry about. She gathered courage and went on, dedicating more attention to watching the ground for any more twigs or dry leaves, subconsciously placing her left hand on the strap holding the axe.
The sunshine was breaking through the leaves of the trees, bright pools of light spilled on the grass and fallen leaves covering the ground. The air was filled with the usual sounds found in forests, but Brigitte tried to stay wary of her surroundings, turning her eyes left and right. Every now and then she turned around, so sure she was being followed or at least watched by someone hiding in the trees, but each and every time there was no one. Twice she thought she caught a movement in the corner of her eye, maybe a silhouette dashing behind a bush, but the longer she stared at that direction, the more sure she was becoming it was just her mind, playing tricks on her. She had to go just a little further, just few steps deeper.
A sigh of relief escaped Brigitte's lungs when she finally reached her destination. She touched a trunk of the tree, a mark clearly visible from far away - a bright red streak of paint, higher than any animal could've reached. Unmistakeable. Her father was right, as always - she should be able to bring this tree home without anyone's help.
"It's not that risky if you go alone," he said when she tried to explain just how dangerous this venture could be. She knew he was right, he always was. His overprotectivness wouldn't let him send her here if he wasn't perfectly sure it was the safest option. More people would attract unwanted attention and all of the other people from their village capable to help her were assigned to the main logging, where they simply had to move in groups, this time for protection. Besides, if one believed in the old tales, the dwellers of the enshrined forest were more humane for young girls. Hopefully. No one has seen any nonhuman here in the past decades; but one had to admit that the villagers didn't need to wander as far from the edge of the woods as now.
The tree's bark was rough under Brigitte's fingers as she run them down the trunk. Please, let it be uninhabited, she prayed silently, not daring to look around. She came this far and if anything scared her now, she wouldn't dare come back home empty-handed. They needed wood, be it for sale or for their own comfort during the long winter, especially now, when it was so hard to get. It would be a dishonor for the whole Lindholm family if she ran away.
But the tree was so young... As far as she could tell, it was maybe ten years old at best, basically a baby. It should have the opportunity to grow strong, to see the seasons change many times before it would fall and become replaced with another young, lively sapling. On the other hand, it was either this tree or her whole family and Brigitte knew what she had to do.
She slipped the strap off from across her torso and stretched her arms. She glanced around - a quick look had to be enough, simply because she didn't have courage for anything more - and grabbed her axe, teeth clenched, eyes steady. She raised the axe, ready to strike the trunk and do what she was sent here to do.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"
Something pulled the axe at the exact same moment when Brigitte was about to whap it. The pull was too strong and unexpected for Brigitte to react. Before she could blink, she was lying on the ground with something - someone - pressing her chest. She pushed the attacker off with an agile move of her arm combined with a body roll, clearly surprising the assailant, because the weight disappeared. She scrambled to her feet, ready to dodge another attack from any side, but a new blow didn't come. Brigitte looked at around for her axe - to no effect.
"Looking for this?" A voice came from someone standing a few steps in front of her. She raised her gaze.
An arm's length in front of her stood a short - even petite - girl, but not much younger than Brigitte herself. The girl's dress, which must have been highly impractical in the woods, was a shade of young spring grass and flowed genlty even though no wind blew. Her long, dark hair flowed barely noticeably as well, but what caught Brigitte's attention was the hard look in the girl's dark eyes - fierce and determined. Her right hand was holding Brigitte's axe, while the left was resting on her hip, as if the girl didn't care if she carried a potentially dangerous weapon. But something else was bugging Brigitte's mind and only after a moment she managed to put a finger on it. The girl's skin and hair had some sort of green tint to them, definitely unnatural. Very natural, a thought ran through Brigitte's head, because she's not human.
"You've got some nerve!" The girl spat out, rubbing the back of her left hand on her cheek, not bothered by Brigitte's silence. "First you poison the trees and then you have the balls to come here to cut the healthy ones down! Even though we gave you the permission to cut out the old forest!" Her eyes shone brightly with rage, so Brigitte took a step back.
"Wait, wait!" She raised her hands up. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"
The girl's brows furrowed when she sized Brigitte up. "I don't believe you," she decided eventually, crossing her arms.
"Please, I just came here to gather some wood for my family. We won't survive the winter without it, no matter if we use it to warm ourselves or sell it to other villagers to afford some food." Brigitte's voice was pleading and while she didn't like the sound of it, it seemed to work. The strange girl relaxed a little, though her eyes were still fierce and focused on Brigitte, watching her every move carefully. Her small hand still held the axe, implying some sort of a threat.
"Hmpf," she huffed, "I have no idea how this whole 'sell' thing works, but you do sound sincere." The girl paused for a moment. "Let's say I believe that you didn't infect the trees. What about other humans? Those 'villagers'?"
"Think about it," Brigitte responded quickly, "why would they do this? We all need warmth to survive and planks to repair our houses, or carts, or anything! It makes no sense for us to poison your forest, especially when something is attacking the lumberjacks in the old forest just outside the village!"
The girl opened her mouth, her eyes now wide. "So it truly wasn't you... Any of you..." Her whisper was barely more than a whiff of a wind. She dropped the axe.
"Look, I..." Brigitte made a step in her direction.
"Go." The girl looked to the ground.
"But-"
"Just go."
Her eyes on the girl, Brigitte made a few quick steps forward and snatched her axe, along with the straps. Only then she [urned around and ran as fast as she could.
"A girl, you say?" Torbjörn muttered, scratching his beard. The sun shone on his face and thanks to that his facial hair looked like it was glowing.
"Yea," sighed Brigitte, clenching her cup tighter. Her mother put a hand on her back in a reassuring gesture. They were sitting in by the old, beaten up kitchen table, the usual domestic noises and familiar scents surrounding Brigitte, almost successfully driving her attention away from the bizzare encounter in the forest. Almost. She tried to focus on the taste of the tea in her mouth.
"I should've foreseen it." Her father jumped off his chair and waddled to the window. "I'm gonna go and warn the folks around, we need to be prepared." He sighed. "Ingrid, please, tell the kids to stay close to home" His voice was a bit quieter this time.
"Of course," she said gently and left the kitchen. Torbjörn tunred to his daughter.
"I'm sorry I came back empty-handed, papa." She ran a finger down one of many scratches on the tabletop.
"Don't mention it." Torbjörn waved his hand. "I'm glad you came back safe. But... It's a bad sign that a dryad was hostile torwards you."
Brigitte shook her head maybe a little too promptly. "She wasn't hostile," she protested, "just protecting her home. We would act the same if anyone attacked our village, wouldn't we?"
Her father leered at her. "Maybe you're right. Doesn't change the fact that we need the supplies." He wobbled torwards the door. "I'll go and tell the boys in the lumbermill not to hold their breaths. I'll be back before midnight." And with that, he left the house. Brigtte sat at the table all alone, looking at the steaming tea in her cup. The thoughts of someone or something poisoning the trees in the dryad's forest was terryfying. Who would do something like that.
I wanted to hurt that tree, too, she thought but immidiately shook her head. No. It was a different case. Still, something in the back of her mind didn't want to let go and she still saw the picture of the dryad's determined gaze every time she closed her eyes.