"Begorrah, (Patreon)

sure an oi've sworn not to harm the impudent spalpeen," Estvan sighed.  "Plus me knee still whinges a bit.  Tis up to you, Sam, to teach the lad a lesson."

"I've had several of your lessons already," I growled menacingly, "and I'm ready for your worst."

"So cocky do not be," Sam warned me.  "Not everything have I taught you."

A few seconds later he had me in a headlock.

"Much to learn you have," Sam sighed.  He licked his finger and stuck it unpleasantly in my ear.  "What say you now?"

"ARRGH," I protested as I squirmed, but I could not break free.  Then I recalled the words of surrender that Estmere had taught me when I was an elflet and he had similarly administered the spit-finger torture, which he had enigmatically referred to as 'Moist William.'

"UNCLE!" I shrieked as the finger wriggled.  "I yield, Sam!  UNCLE, I say!"

"He said Uncle," Rowan snapped.  "Now break it up.  You have to stop and leave him alone, that's the rule.  You two ought to be ashamed, picking on a little dimwitted weakling like that.  I get it, you're after his pot of gold, but you're just being mean."

"Sure an' who exactly ARE ye, lass?" Estvan asked, suspiciously.

"I already told you, my name is Rowan."

"Aye, that ye did, but .. how did ye get here through the forest?  Tis supposed to keep Ad- .. er, oi mean the whoite-furred lad there socially isolated.  Sure an nobody should get in or out exceptin' they have a great deal o' skill an' power."

"I dunno," Rowan shrugged.  "My father owns a lot of formerly wooded land near Percysthorpe.  I've always been very comfortable in the forest, but about a year ago dad went away a bunch of times - working out a deal with some important people, he said - and then one morning suddenly the forest was gone."

"Now THAT's peculiar," Estvan exclaimed.

"We owe her family a great debt," the trees rustled nervously.  "Our obligation to her supersedes our vow to guard the Traitor.  We only promised General Bonsai; we did not swear the sap-oath that he and his companions swore."

"Hello?  What are you listening to?" Rowan interrupted, waving her hand in front of Estvan's face.  "Are you an elf too?  You got a glazed, faraway look for a second there.  If I have your attention, I'll continue my story .. since you seemed so darn curious a minute ago."

"Boy all means, do continue," Estvan said, with a slight bow.

"Well, with the wood gone, and our biggest client - O'Daisies Industries - mysteriously disappeared at the same time, my family's livelihood was pretty much obliterated.  Facing the prospect of hard times, I fell back on my other skills and sought to make a living in town.  It didn't work out.  I'm afraid I caused a bit of a scandal .. but what's wrong with being wanton, I ask you?"

"Tis nothin' wrong at all, at all," Estvan tutted, shaking his head.

"My parents had to turn me out.  They told me not to come back until I had found a Real Job, but that's been pretty much impossible since rumors seem to precede me everywhere I go.  I've gotten kicked out of every town I've been in.  I blame those snooty rabbits.  They're everywhere lately.  But then I heard a story about an elf in these woods who grants wishes with his magical hair, so I thought I'd give it a shot."

"You poor dear!" I exclaimed as I tried to dry my ear.  "Fallen on hard times?  Need a 'Real Job?'  Well what could be more real than being a PRINCESS?  I shall go to your father forthwith, and ask your hand in marriage!"

"No, lad, ye won't," Estvan glowered.  "Are ye forgettin' that ye can't leave this circle o' stones, AN that ye can only marry nobility?  Not to mention all the tales o' the dire misfortune that befalls an elf who becomes unduly attached to a lowfolk?"

"Now now, hold on," Rowan protested.  "The idea is not wholly without merit.  Maybe there's a way it could work.  Let's hear him out."

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