Nicole Stevens: Blood and Daggers

Chapter Two: Keeper Of The Woods

"Was it just me, or did there seem to be a lot of tension between you and that Mark guy?" Harry asked from his lazy position on my bed. He was lying there on his side, watching me pull books from the shelf.

"No, it wasn't just you. I just didn't want to talk with him, is all," I answered. It was ten o' clock, and Mark had just left my house. I hadn't said one word about him since his departure. I trailed my fingers over the spines of the books on the D shelf. Finally finding the book I was looking for, I pulled it out of the shelf.

"So, I'm sleeping where?" Harry inquired.

"Um, well, it's the couch, or the cot. Either you get a cot, and put it in here, or you go in the living room and sleep on the couch," I explained.

"And, I'm guessing sleeping in your bed would be out of the question?"

"Depending on whether I'm in the bed or not," I answered, trying not to laugh.

"What're the chances of your parents letting me sleep in your bed with you in it?"

"Not likely. You've got about one out of a thousand chances," I replied, finally giving up on trying not to laugh. "Unless you want to go ask my dad about letting you, a teenage guy, sleep with me in my bed, I don't think you have a chance at all. I'm his princess, remember? I don't let guys sleep in my bed. Technically," I added.

"Okay, then I'll go with the next best thing. I'll sleep on the cot, so long as I get a goodnight kiss."

"I thought that went without saying."

"Well, I just didn't want to take any chances."

"Oh, and by the way, do you want the kiss from Shawn or Ria?" I joked.

"Hmm...let's see. That's a hard one. I can have the girl who's had her tongue down Mark's throat, or I can have the guy that invites his pervert friends over to check out my girlfriend. They're both very appealing," he laughed with me at his joke.

"All right since you can't choose between them, you'll just have to stick with me."

"Fine by me."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

I was lying in bed, wearing my teal-framed glasses. They were a new acquisition. Apparently, the Cruciatus curse had bad effects on your sight, so I now had to wear glasses when I read now. I was currently reading a book called 'Dream Analysis'. The soft glow emanating from my lamp bathed the room in a golden-yellow light.

"You look scholarly," said Harry from his cot on the opposite side of the room. I turned, looking over the lenses of my glasses at him.

"How so?"

"Your glasses make you look smart."

"Aren't I?" I quipped teasingly.

"Yes, but they make you look even more intelligent," he replied.

"Okay." I went back to reading.

Doctor Sybil C. Daze of the Magical Dream Research Foundation claims that Dream Analysis is a complexly based pattern. Some herbs induce what some term 'Psychic Revelations' and others call 'Cockamamie'. Mugwort is one of such herbs. As folklore says, sleep with mugwort underneath your pillow, and you will experience these 'Psychic Revelations'. Many magical colleges are currently studying these ideas.

One such study, the Dark Dreaming Project, intends to challenge these theories.

Becoming bored with the droning quality of the book, I set it on my nightstand. I removed my glasses and rubbed my eyes tiredly. I heard a rustling from the other side of the room, and looked over at Harry. He was sitting up, staring vacantly at the floor.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

He raised his eyes to mine and answered,

"I'm just worried. My scar's been hurting a lot lately. It was hurting all through dinner."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, hopping out of bed and walking over to him. When he wouldn't look at me again, I sat on the floor with my legs under me.

I put my hand on his cheek, willing him to look at me. What happened then was like nothing I'd ever experienced.

A loud whooshing sound. There were screams all around. I heard a high-pitched laughing. Another whoosh. I heard the whispering of many people. It rustled around the room like wind blowing through the branches of trees. Yet another whoosh. There was a man's voice, and a woman's. The woman was hysterical. She was pleading 'No! Take me. Take me instead!" A crazy laughing, and a loud crash. A baby's wail. A flash of green light. A last whoosh, and all was gone.

I stared up into a pair of brilliant green eyes. Black hair. Glasses. Lightning bolt shaped scar. Harry.

"Nicole, Nicole! What happened? You went all rigid. Should I go get help?"

"N-No. I'm fine, really."

I sat up, only to immediately fall back. Harry looked worried. He asked me,

"You're sure you don't need help?"

"Can you help me to stand? I think I'm just tired, is all."

He nodded, and slung my arm over his shoulders. Harry slowly helped me up, and then assisted me over to my bed. He picked me up in his arms and laid me gently on the bed, under the covers.

"How come all you guys can carry me? That's the second time in a one-year span that I've been carried," I joked weakly.

"I don't know. Maybe it's a gift. You don't need anything?"

"No," I answered. I laid my head on the pillow, and listened to Harry getting settled in his cot.

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"Mmm...." I felt the soft kisses on my neck. "Mmm..." I repeated.

"Nicole...wake up...please, Nicky...c'mon wake up..."

"Mmm? Don't stop...mmm...good. Yum." I opened my eyes, and saw Harry's bright-green eyes looking lovingly down at me. He was sitting on the side of my bed.

I locked one arm around his neck and pulled him down, so that his mouth covered mine. He smiled, and I let his tongue roam freely in my mouth. What a good wakeup call. I was swept away by the intoxicated feeling I got when I pulled away for breath, and Harry planted light kisses on my mouth.

"Mmm..." I sighed contentedly. He sat up and gazed into my face. "So, why was it so urgent for me to wake up?"

"I wanted to talk. About last night," I could tell from his tone this was the point he had been most anxious about discussing, "you never told me what happened, and I want to know."

"Okay, can we talk about this later? I'd like to eat first, and get dressed. Then I'll explain everything."

"Good," he replied.

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"So, explain to me what happened, again. I still don't understand."

"Okay, look," I explained for what seemed like the thousandth time, "I touched your face. Then, I don't know. It was...like I was seeing visions through you. I heard...screams. Then there was a whooshing sound. I heard whispering, then. There was another whoosh, and I saw a bright green flash. Well, before that, there was a woman's screaming, and a high laugh."

"Like a jackal?"

"Maybe. It was a man's laughter, but it was odd...too high-pitched. I don't know, Harry. I just don't know."

"I need to owl Sirius. He'll know what to do," I heard Harry murmur.

"Sirius?"

"What?" he seemed startled that I'd overheard his private conversation with himself. "Oh, that. I was just mumbling that I thought this was serious."

"Okay," I answered slowly and curiously. It was the first time he'd ever lied to me. I stood up, leaving Harry to mull over what I'd told him.

Thinking that I needed some fresh air, I began to head outside. Breakfast was finished, and had been for quiet some time. I had spent half an hour explaining to Harry everything that I had seen last night when I had touched his face. Neither hide nor hair of my cousins had been seen this morning, and I thought that it was definitely for the best. I wasn't looking for another close encounter with Shawn. His temper was too easily heightened, his anger too easily flared. Whether or not he would have threatened me again, I did not know, but the thing I did know, was that he could be very dangerous when the need be.

I trudged slowly down into the grove of cedar trees. This was my niche, my safe place. It was the place I went to when I was upset, and most often my anger would show in the deep ruts in the moist soil. When I was sad, I would climb up into one of the tallest trees, a weeping willow, the only one on our property. It was my absolute favourite spot. This was my true alcove of privacy and protection. No one knew of the willow's existence. It was my secret from the rest of the world. Neither of my parents favoured the woods, so they steered clear of our tiny forest, and therefore, my hiding place was unknown to all but myself. This willow was not in the clearing. It was farther back, between the large cedars. Where the willow was situated, hardly any light penetrated the thick ceiling of leaves. Of course, some light managed to sneak in through the cracks, but not enough so that anyone could see me. Today, the sky was overcast again, and the dim light that filtered through the canopy of leaves was greyish blue, bathing the tree, and myself, in its blue blanket of misty light. Blue, the colour of sadness and depression.

I sat, my back against one of the branches. This branch was curved, like a lounging chair. It had two branches extending on either side, so that it was exactly like reclining in a favorite chair. I could've chosen many branches, but this one seemed the right one for the time being. This tree, and all of its branches, I knew like the back of my hand. I could move throughout it, easily tiptoeing from branch to branch, using some of the higher boughs to cling to. It was my ultimate haven. My Eden. I had not grown any of the trees of course, but it seemed to me like they were alive, and I had the key to unlocking their secrets. The wind whispered through the tree's limbs, sounding more like the woods were telling secrets. Possibly they were conversing about me, the girl who knew them like a person knows his best friends. Maybe they were speaking poetry, filled with warmth and life, and spirit. Perchance they were conversing the sudden arrival of fall. Perhaps, perhaps, they were speaking of days past. Days when no one would visit them for months, allowing them to grow on their own, speaking no kind words to them. The days when the landowners left them alone, letting them sit out their days, sufficing with whispering between each other, never having much to tell.

It was this that brought me back to this place; this feeling of life, and comfort. The feeling of security, which my life failed to supply for me. The tree's whispering allowed me to tap into my natural talents of precognition. Sometimes, I would sit for hours, relaxing my body, letting the energy flow through my hands, down my spine. Eventually, I would experience I light floating sensation, much like how you feel after the dentist has given you sleeping gas. While I was out of mind, I saw many things; things past, things present, and things to come. However hard I tried, when I attempted to snatch at the vague pictures I had seen, I never managed to hold onto them. They always slipped out of my grasp, as water does when you cup it in your hands. Never could I remember the images that relaxation had conjured. The routine was done today.

I sat, lying back in a comfortable position on one of the tree's large boughs. My feet dangled over the sides, eight feet into the air. I leaned my head back onto the upward-slanting limb, wistfully inhaling the soft, light breeze that Gain laundry detergent claimed to capture, but didn't really. Soon, I felt the tingling in my hands, which lay clasped leisurely on my stomach. It spread through my arms, to my elbows. From my elbows, to my shoulders. Then the light feeling began to seep downwards, flowing through my lungs and down to my legs. I felt the tingling sensation surge into my feet, ending at my toes. I was unaware that I had floated blissfully into a state of sub-consciousness.

When I awoke, some time later, all I knew was that something was definitely amiss. I looked around me, and noticed that I was no longer on the bench-like branch. Instead, I seemed to be floating in midair. Cautiously, I rolled over, finding that I did not fall. I hung like a puppet, airborne. I was only waiting for some mysterious force to pull my strings, and let me down.

"What in the world?" I finally managed to whisper.

"The world, yes. The world. This is the world. Your world, our world. One, together, all connected, all living. Your question, oddly phrased. Clarification, if you might?"

"Clarification?" I asked into the silence. "Okay, well, why am I floating?"

"She is intelligent, this one. Do you remember the last we met, Argil?"

"Ah, such a great time ago. Not another has come, since then. Silence, yes silence. It has been many years. Her question, Melagh, her question. Answer her. The keeper asked you a question."

"Alright, Argil. Keeper, you asked why you were floating, did you not?" Without waiting for a reply, the voice (Malagh) went on, "Well, you are levitating, to be more precise. And, for good reason. You fell asleep, dear keeper."

"Keeper? Who is the keeper?"

"You are, dear keeper. It is you, that wondrous of gifts has been bestowed upon. Of course, we were the ones to grant you our gift. The gifts, our gifts. The gift of being The Keeper of the Wood," Argil answered.

"The Keeper of the Wood?" I repeated the title. "And, that's me?"

"Yes, dearest keeper. You are our keeper. You converse with us. We are your friends, allies. There are more of us, of course; Deluad, Wendil, Salem, Justicia, all like us. They are silent now, and blessed that they are. Most often no-one can get them to be quiet," Argil went on.

"Who are you? WHAT are you?"

"We are the Earth-Keepers, the Air-Bringers, the Water-Bearers, and the Life-Carriers. We are the Spirits of the Goddess. Spirit Trees," Melagh explained.

"Trees? I am having a conversation with trees?"

"Yes, keeper."

"Argil! What are you talking about?" a new voice added to my confusion.

"Justicia, she is here. The keeper. Introduce yourself, Justicia. I sense her confusion. She doesn't believe us."

"Ah, keeper. Yes, of course. Formalities must be observed. Keeper, I am Justicia. Justicia, Spirit Caller. Do you remember me?"

"Remember you? I don't know any trees, so I don't think..."

"I am the Willow of Truth and Callings. Do you know me now?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed, realizing that it was my willow. "Um," I suddenly thought of how I was still hanging precariously in the air, "could you put me down first?"

"Of course, keeper," answered Melagh.

I slowly drifted over to my usual willow branch. Melagh continued,

"Justicia, would you mind if I set her on your branch?"

"Put her down on her usual limb, Melagh. Yes, that one there. Very good, Melagh." I suddenly found myself perched on the crooked limb that I usually sat on. It took me a moment before I was calm enough to manage speaking. Thoughts raced through my head, most of them relating to 'insanity', 'madness', and 'delusional'. Then, I settled myself into a comfortable position, ready to hear all that the trees had to say.

"You, as The Keeper of the Woods, have special gifts. We have bestowed on you the gift of speech. You will be able to converse with all trees, now. But, with the gift, burdens come. It is your job to protect us from the harm of other humankind. You must bring us information from the outside world of men, and we will inform you of new doings in our world. The birds are our consuls, of sorts," Justicia told me.

"And no-one else can do this job. You alone have been chosen. There is no other trustworthy human. If you accept this job, which you must, you will fulfil your duties and we will fulfil ours. Your agreement means our safety. You must accept," Argil said.

"Then I guess I agree. So, I protect you from humans and tell you the news, you tell me the news from the outside world and I can talk to trees? I can do that...I think. Okay, yeah, I agree."

"Very well, keeper. Visit us often, as is the norm for you," Justicia requested.

"Oh, yeah. I will."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"Nicole, I think something's wrong. I mean, you're talking to trees," Harry said incredulously.

"Well, sorry, but...I didn't ask to become their keeper. It just sort of...happened."

"I've supported you this far, visions, nightmares, reckless adventures, but this is almost too much to bear. I'm not saying that I give up on you, or anything, but...trees?"

"Well, come with me to talk to them. You'll see what I mean. They said that no-one else could do the job. It's me, or nobody at all. Now come here," I ordered.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his teenage mind noticing the slight undertones that I had deliberately put in my voice. He cautiously stepped over to my bed, where I was sitting. I could tell that he was intrigued at my tone, though his mind would not allow him to realize what he was doing.

When he was standing directly in front of me, I noticed that he had his arms crossed over his chest. I shook my head, smiling, and moved further forward. He shot a sideways glance at me, curious about what I was doing. I touched his hand, pulling it away from his chest. Then I took his other hand in mine, and dragged him closer to me. Harry allowed himself a grin, before putting his palms on my shoulders and pushing me back onto the bed. He leaned over me, smiling widely.

"So, you're talking to trees, having weird dreams, and managing to get me interested. What next?"

"Well, in movies, you'd kiss me and we'd make-up. Or make-out, as the case may be."

"Okay."

*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*

"Nicole, we need to talk." I spun around to face the intruder. The tall man-or was he only a teenager- in the doorway was staring at me with a fixed expression. His face, that perfect face, I had not seen in months. He mesmerized me, confusing me at the same time.

"Talking to you. I remember the last time. It was," I paused, "the day before school let out. How I treated you, I'm sorry for that. I wasn't sure if I could trust you--or anyone."

"Nicole, darling, it's not important. Really, you thought I would stop loving you? Did I not tell you that my love would never die?"

"You did, at that. Actually, you reiterated your point many times. I don't even remember the number. I lost count after the first few," I admitted, looking at the floor of the large bedroom. The stone floor was cool, and I would have gladly lain down on it, to escape the heat that was rising in my face as I flushed.

The man--maybe he was only a boy, still--strode boldly over to me. He touched my face, raising my gaze to his. I mouthed wordlessly, surely looking like a fish out of water. He smiled--smirked. It was the expression that he usually wore, though he managed most days to mask the cold sneer and give me a sweet smile. Today, tonight, he gave no effort to hide his leer.

"I told you, didn't I? I gave that up. I gave him up. I serve no one but myself--and you, if you would only allow me to. Whether or not you believe me, is up to you to decide. Ask yourself this, though, before you choose; have I ever lied to you?

"Not really," I whispered.

"Then do you really believe me about this?"

"Yes," I hissed. He knew I didn't like to talk about it.

"So?"

"Draco, leave me alone!"

"What did you say?" Harry's voice broke the crystal silence of the dream.

"I--said something?"

"Yeah, you said, quite distinctly 'mmm, Draco'. Now, I don't know what you were seeing, but I can bet that I won't like it."

"Oh, I don't think--"

"That's a load of rubbish, and you know it. I want the truth," Harry said.

"The truth? Okay, Harry. The truth: I'm madly in love with Draco, and I think we should see other people."

A/N: Cliff-hanger! Major bummer! Too bad. You're probably going to curse me for this one, but I'm going to let you. The next chapter will explain everything. It's not as it seems, I promise you.

Next Chapter: Nicole! You have got some explaining to do! No, really. She'll have some explanations. Was she being sarcastic, or...was she serious? Ooh, I can't tell you!

Harry will get very moody, and there are some explanations. Lots of them, actually. The trees will be helpful. I have qualms about having talking trees, but I had to add them. They were begging to be put in. Now, we'll move on. There's some problems, I daresay, and definitely some misunderstandings. Hope you liked it!