Bed of Wild Roses

Sean stood in the living room, the fairy-decoration of which was almost as bad as the one of his daughter's room. "What to do now?" he mumbled, nervously glancing through the room as the feeling of being watched did not leave him. "Could write something.. but what? Something happy?" he turned and strode into the chaos that was his study.

The old typewriter glared at him like one of his evil dragons come alive. He had been unable to write anything useful with pencils, maybe he would manage to write something on the typewriter? He kicked some books and papers out of the way and sat down in the old wooden chair in front of the even older fir table, his fingers hovering over the letters, still unwilling to write. He sat like that for a few more minutes, thoughtful and unmoving, before his fingers slowly started to write, picking up speed as they did so.


Once upon a time in a land far, far away, a land full of magic and wonderful things there lived a boy called Sayphon. But he was no ordinary boy, he was one of the fair folk, of the elves and fairies but he had been a changeling and thus been raised by humans.
He was a rather small and timid boy, with curly brown hair and brown eyes that shimmered like the bark of a very young tree in the sunlight. Apart from that he was in no way extraordinary. Except for his love for flowers and everything living and growing and it was often that the other boys teased him about it.
His father was Balian, the blacksmith, and Sayphon loved him more than words could say. He tried to fit in with the others in the village, human as he believed himself to be, but never quite managed to become on of them. But then, one beautiful summer day, shortly after Sayphon's twelfth birthday, something happened that should change his life forever.

He had run into the forest after a fight with the sons of he village fisher, when his run through the dark green shrubbery was suddenly stopped by a strange sight. Upon a little clearing in the middle of a circle of wild roses and corn flowers lay a boy. A boy with the same brown hair Sayphon himself had. Cautiously Sayphon inched closer. The boy seemed to be unconscious and wore no clothes at all.
On the other end of the clearing were some big, pear-shaped stones, which stood in a circle. Fairy-stones the old people in the village called them.
"I have to get help," Sayphon thought and turned to run back into the village, to tell the adults what he had found. Little did he know that Tyrus, for that was the boy's name, would be his entry into another world. Tyrus too, was of the elvish blood.


Sean straightened himself with a yawn, stretching his muscles and wondering how he had managed to cramp his back. He had not written that long, had he? He looked at the battery clock on the wall and blanched, jumping up.

"Oh fuck!" It was already past 11a.m. and he had not even gone shopping or at least started cooking. Evie would be home from school soon and he had not even managed the simplest things. Maybe he should get a cleaning woman. At least for weekdays.
Cursing he ran into the kitchen.


~***~


Sean stood in the doorway to the kitchen, the expression on his face closely resembling that of a cow caught in a thunderstorm. Someone had been in here. With shaking hands he grabbed a filet-knife from the stand and slowly moved forwards, one slow step after another.
Viggo was long gone and he was positive that his friend had not set a single foot into the kitchen. And he doubted that this was the work of a burglar. Burglars usually took things instead of bringing or preparing them. But that was exactly what had been done.

A steaming pot of rice sat on the kitchen counter, accompanied by what seemed to be a salad and various fruits. Carefully Sean inched closer, the knife still in his hand.
He stopped again, frowning. This was almost too much to believe. Flowers! The salad was mostly made out of frigging lowers! Sure, there was the usual iceberg in it as well, but he could also identify Rose petals, Daisies, Jasmine and other plants, which he had never seen before but which looked flowery nevertheless. Was this supposed to be edible? And that loaf of bread, he stepped closer, was that a walnut on top of it? Walnut bread? What the?

"Dad! I'm home!"

He heard Evie's school bag hit the wall in the entrance hall and had barely enough time to turn around before his arms were filled with seven-year-old child.

"I missed you, Daddy," she hugged him tightly, clinging to him for longer than she usually did before she let go of him again, "I really missed you."

"Evie?" Sean's eyes clouded over with worry as he knelt down, staring intently into his daughter's eyes, "Did something happen at school today?"

Evie shook her head, staring straight at her feet. Sean sighed, gently lifting Evie's chin, till their eyes met.

"Evie? You know you can talk to me about anything?"

Reluactantly the child nodded. "I know Daddy. Dad!" Eliza jumped from his arms, excitedly running towards the counter, "Did you cook all this?"

"Erm... not really..." Sean grimaced, "The food just suddenly appeared and... I mean I always leave the door open and... Evie! Don't eat that! You don't know who made that!"

"If you didn't cook, then Karl did." Evie said matter-of-factly, breaking off a piece of the bread. It was fresh, still warm inside.

"See, I told you.. ." Sean frowned. "Who is Karl?"

Evie sat down at the kitchen table, heaping salad onto two plates. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Sean gulped, a sudden lump in his throat as his daughter looked innocently at him. "Evie, who is Karl?"

"Karl's my friend," Evie stared defensively at her father, "He made this for us."

"Where and when did you meet this Karl?"

"Not gonna tell you." Evie smiled her most disarming smile. "I promised him not to."

"Evie..."

"Please, Dad," wide blue-green eyes stared at Sean, "I know you're worried but you don't have to be."

"Evie I don't like you meeting strangers and certainly not if these strangers walk into our house and leave food."

"Karl's safe, Daddy, he'd never hurt me."

"Evie..." the chair creaked under Sean's weight, "Please understand that..."

"Karl would never hurt me." Evie said with definite finality. "You don't have to worry."

Sean sighed, shaking his head and absentmindedly grabbing a few bread crumbs. He knew he was losing. Evie was just as stubborn as her mother had been. "Evie," he tried one last time, "How can you know that this Karl is safe?"

"Because a fairy told me."

"Evie..." Sean winced as he noticed the slightly wobbling lower lip, "I know you like fairy tales and mystical stories but..."

"You don't believe me!" Evie suddenly yelled, tears welling from her eyes as she jumped to her feet, "You think I'm a liar! That I made it all up! You hate me!"

"Evie, darling I don't hate you," Sean stepped gingerly towards his daughter, "But fairies don't exist and..."

"They do! They do exist! Fairies are real!" Evie rushed past him, running up the stairs before Sean could catch her.

"Fuck," Sean whispered to the empty kitchen as he heard Evie's bedroom door slam. This was bad. And who ever this Karl was, it was at least partly his fault. Where could his daughter have met the other man?


~***~


Karl sighed, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed. He knew it had been a mistake. Had known right away that it wouldn't be as simple as Evie wished it to be. He had known that Evie's father would not like being taken care of. The man was simply too proud for his own good.

"Evie?" he asked, gently placing his hand on the child's shoulder, that was shaking with suppressed sobs. "Evie, please say something."
Evie draw her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and burying her hear in her pillows. Tears were flowing freely down her face, vanishing into the pink pillows, and she didn't even notice Karl at first.