HeartWood

“My hope is that Mistletoe will grow on this tree one day. It will take a long time for that to happen, but when it does...well maybe by that time your own grandchildren will find protection from it.” His eyes were misty.

“We need water for it.” William announced, giving his grandfather his arm to brace himself so he could stand up.

“Right. You can use one of the horse buckets.” As he straightened, his old bones creaked and complained.

“I'll get water from the creek. I think fresh water will be best for the sapling. I'll meet you back at the house in awhile. I want to sit here for a bit. Will you be okay walking back by yourself?” William wondered. His grandfather was looking frail lately. It worried him. When he put his hand on the old man's back he was shrugged away.

“Just fine, Willy. These old bones have a few miles left in them yet. Go on with you.” He scooted his grandson toward the pasture and turned to go.

“Be wary of forest nymphs, Will. They can only bring you heartache.” He threw over his shoulder.

Will walked up to the paddock, once more swung his tall frame over the fence and plucked the bucket off the wooden post. The little filly came up to him and sniffed at his pocket.

“No sugar cubes today, Elfie.” The young horse gently used her teeth to tug at his arm, forcing his hand out of his pocket. He produced a golden delicious apple for her. She whinnied with delight and nudged him with her head. He lay the apple on his flattened palm and held it out to her. She gingerly took the treat off his hand and chomped it in two bites. He smiled and stroked her flanks, before giving her a push away.

He swung the gate open and headed to the small creek. He dipped the bucket into the water to brimming and set in on the ground to tie the laces of his sneaker. As he stood up, he froze. Not a hundred yards away a green shape knelt in front of the sapling. The sapling seemed to have a green glow surrounding it. He stood riveted to the spot, watching.

***
Mistie held her hands around the infant sapling and sent the healing energy of growth and health down into the roots. She murmured to it quietly.

“You must miss Mother-tree. Why can they not understand that each time they take, we weaken.” She sighed heavily. “Do not fear. You will grow big and strong like Mother-tree. I will take care of you and when it is time, I will give you one of my own. Soon, little sister you won't be alone.” The glow faded. She stood and pirouetted on her tiptoes, humming softly to herself as she danced back into the woods.

“Hey!” A familiar male voice called out to her.

She drew a cloak of protection around herself, merging with her surroundings.

“I can still see you.” The voice called.

How was that possible? She had hidden herself in time, hadn't she? She turned slowly and gazed back at the boy. His eyes met hers. He did see her! He was staring straight at her. How could she have been so negligent? She turned on her heel, wild hair flying, and sprinted behind a tree.

“No wait. Don't run. Please. I won't hurt you. No one else can see you. Just me.” The voice told her. She heaved deep breaths into her lungs and collapsed against the tree, fearful.

She peeked out from behind the tree and watched as the boy entered paddock, slammed the gate shut, and dashed past the surprised filly. He struggled over the fence, not looking where he was landing and winced. She heard fabric tear. The look on his face showed pain. His knee was bleeding.

Shit!” He exclaimed.

Mistletoe gasped at the string of angry words her super sensitive hearing allowed her to hear. The words and the pain she felt radiating off of him hurt her heart.

“Fuck that hurts! Goddamn, please don't let me get tetanus. Please don't let me get tetanus. I should have gotten that shot when I had the chance. Crap.” He ignored the blood seeping into his clothing, picked himself up, and limped toward the woods. Towards her.

The earth healer in her drew her forward to meet him. His jeans were ripped and she could see an object impaling his skin. He was coming closer to her and she told herself to be brave. He was hurt. He needed her. This was who she was.

He stumbled and landed on the ground on his good knee, catching his breath. She closed the space between them and knelt before him. He was clutching the object, trying to yank it out. Alarmed, she closed her hand over his to stop him. The head of the nail touched her skin and she cried out in pain, yanking her hand away. She shook her head no and scrunched her face up, confused.

“Are you OK?” He asked her. “I'm William. What's your name?”

She stared at the nail, bewildered. How was she going to help him if she couldn't bare to touch the pain? She blinked at him. William, it was a good strong name she decided. She hadn't spoken to a human boy before and wondered if it would be wise to speak now. He needed her help.

“Mistie.” She replied, whisper soft. William stared at her in shock.

“How is it you see me, William?” She nudged his hand away and placed her hand back over the nail. She closed her eyes and focused, drawing energy from the earth, barring herself as best she could from the pain. The nail resisted, trying to push her hand away. But little by little the nail began to work its way upward. Each small movement caused William to grit his teeth and groan in pain.

She knew the faster she could get the object out, the better. But it took time. She reached her other hand out and lay it on his chest. His hand came up and linked with hers.

“It hurts. But, please continue. The faster it's out, the better.” He echoed her thoughts.

She nodded and bowed her head. Her mind searched his, linked with it, and she sent a wave of calm to ease the pain he was feeling. She took the pain within herself and saw a vision. She chanted as she worked. It really was a minor injury, considering, but she saw a sickly greenness spreading from the wound into his body. The piece of metal was somehow diseased.

She saw the boy in bed, sweat pouring down his face, painful spasms wracking his body, gasping for breath. This strong, fit, healthy human weakened by an affliction. She shut the image out of her mind, her heart racing. It didn't matter what the pain or illness did to her, she must remove all traces from him.

***

William watched. The girl's eyes were closed, she was stringing strange words together, her expression stoic and shuttered. Again he wondered to himself who she was. Had he fallen and bumped his head, even now suffering a concussion?

He knew he should have headed back to the farm house so his grandfather could extract the nail. But, she had called to him. Was he in a fevered hallucination?

All he knew was the touch of her hand on his chest burned through the fabric of his shirt and lit something inside of him. An ache filled him, an unexplainable longing for something which he knew in his heart was unattainable. The pain had stopped and he was able to focus more fully on her. He lifted his hand to her face. A few wisps of her hair lay against her sweaty brow. He tucked them behind her ear half expecting to be caught and held by it again. Need whispered across his consciousness.

***

Mistie felt when the object left his body and all traces of disease with it. She also felt overwhelmed by his thoughts and emotions. She was hot and itchy and uncomfortable and needful. She knew these were inside of him and did not understand it. She heaved a deep sigh, moaned, and collapsed. It had been too much for her. She was used to healing trees and plants and animals. Once she had helped a small boy who had fallen and scraped his knee on a rock, not a grown human man. She closed her eyes and gave in to the weakness.

***

William looked down at the girl in his arms. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks pale, her breathing slow. Now what? He wondered. He held her and cursed his body when her soft feminine curves pressed against his hardening cock. At least she couldn't feel what she doing to him. That would have been embarrassing.

“Hey, Mistie.” He said softly, doing what he'd been aching to do since first spotting her. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, lowering his head to her ear. It was oddly pointed. He touched the tip with his finger, curious.

“Mistie, wake up hon.” She stirred and shifted in his arms, the warmth of her awakening sensations in his body. He had to get her off of his lap, now, before he did something stupid. “Live for the moment, Will.” He said out loud, recalling the sage advice of his grandfather as he brushed his lips across hers. Her lips softened and moved beneath his and still her eyes remained closed, her breathing even. He hoped she was just sleeping. Just a kiss. He told himself. He coaxed her dry lips apart with his tongue. She responded by opening them further.

***

Something moist and warm was against Mistie's mouth. She was being kissed. Mother-tree had taught her about the ways of humans, preparing her, warning her away from them. She had watched other dryads partake in the delights of the flesh. She smiled in her dream and kissed back, slowly opening her eyes.

She noticed two things right away, and took a moment to realize the third. The first thing was that she wasn't dreaming. The second was that someone was actually kissing her. The third one was that despite the warning bells going off in her head, she didn't want him to stop.

She slid her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pressing against his body. His hardness pressed against her softness and she grew wet between the thighs. She sat up and pushed against his chest. He wasn't prepared for her reaction to his kiss. Quicker than a wink she stretched her body over his, pressing his back to the ground.

“What the-” She stole the startled words from his lips with another kiss as she used nimble fingers to unbutton his pants. He tried to sit up, but she allowed her vines to creep down and stroke his cheek. He blinked in surprise and lay back down. She grinned impishly at him. She wasn't sure what she was doing or why she was acting this way, but didn't really care. She made quick work of his jeans and slid them down over his legs, picking up his hand and placing it on her breast.

Mistie had no control over her actions and it scared her. Her eyes widened seeing the length of flesh. She had never seen one up close before. Other naughty and rebellious dryads had told her about this thing called a “cock,” but she was not quite prepared for it. She did not understand why anyone would liken it to a rooster! She slid her hands around it.

What did she think she was doing? She looked down at his erection in her hand and squeezed. The texture was like nothing she had ever felt before. Hard, but almost silky, like the petals of a flower. How odd! She wrapped her hand around it and gave it a tug. It twitched and he groaned and tried to stop her. She tugged again, then reached down and pet it like it was some small animal. When it leaped, she cringed and dropped it. She frowned, glancing from the living extension of him to his face. He sat up and gently took her hands into his and kissed the tops of each. She looked up from his cock into his eyes.

“Are you OK?” He questioned. She wrenched from his grip, leaping to her feet. “No wait. It's alright.” He struggled to his own feet, yanking his jeans back up and buttoning them quickly. She bit her lower lip and backed away from him.

***

Mistie was mortified at herself. When she had linked with his mind to ease his suffering she had felt his intention and desire for her. She made it her own and acted without thought. What would Mother-tree think of her? Goddess, she had to get away. She left him where he stood, bewilderment and confusion evident on his face. She ran for the trees and didn't stop running until her hand connected with her tree. She was dryad, not human. She had no business being in this human's life.

“Mother.” She cried out. “Mother, what is happening to me?” But only the rustles of leaves answered back. She couldn't feel her tree. Something was wrong. She didn't know what to do. She felt lost and disconnected. She rested her head against the sun-warmed bark and sobbed.

“Mistletoe child, I am dying.” The soft familiar voice explained. She wiped her eyes and gazed high up at the Oak tree. “The path lies before you. You must be brave and follow where that path leads.” A branch swept downward and nudged her closer. She wrapped her arms around as much of the girth of the tree as she could and leaned her cheek against the rough bark.

“Dying? Mother-tree, how can that be? You are the wisest and strongest in all the wood. You cannot possibly be dying. What will come of me?” She squeaked out realizing the implications of her words. She would be tree-less, home-less, alone.

“You will not be alone for long, little one. It is time for you to seek out your destiny. He lies before you. All dryads must plant their daughters in a sapling. When that time comes, you will no longer be bound to earth. It is the way of things when the Mother-tree dies. You have been with me since I was a seed in the earth and you were just a splinter of goddess light.”

Mistie wept and rebelled. She had been with Mother-tree for more years than she could count. Each spring she would leave the tree for a week and do her growing work, but always she would return to her home. This couldn't be happening.

“Who is he?” She asked, sniffling.

“The human man, William. He is more than he seems dear one.” The rustle on the wind was but a gentle whisper, soothing to her heart.

“What is it you die of mother?” Mistie caressed the bark.

“Old age. It is my time. Just as it is your time to tap into the wellspring of magic within you and bring forth new life from your center.” She replied.

“When will it happen? I am not ready to say goodbye.” Mistie confessed sadly.

“It will be soon. I have unfinished business to attend to first. You will know when. Fear not. My heartwood beats within your chest, always.” The branches of the tree held her in an embrace.

“But you always warned me against humans. You always told me they were evil and destructive. You said that forsaking my essence would destroy me and I would be severed from the earth connection. I would be lost to you. You have told me that ever since I was a child. I am confused.” She turned around and slid to the forest floor, pulling her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. She leaned forward and lay her head down, weeping.

“There are things you were not yet ready to be told, until now. You are ready to hear truth. I only wish that you will not be angry with me.” A creak sounded as the tree arched her trunk and a sigh of air caught Mistletoe's attention.

“Have you feelings for him?” Mother-tree asked. Mistletoe lifted her head to gaze up at the staggering height, wondering why Mother-tree was asking this of her. The healthy green growth of Mother-tree was browning just at the edges.

“I do not know. When he is near I feel overwhelmed, out of control, and thirsty. Is that what you mean?” She questioned.

***

William couldn't just let her go, not after the feelings she stirred within. He wondered how the tables had so quickly turned. One minute the unconscious beauty had been lying in his arms, and the next she had him pinned to the ground and was undressing him. He had feared the odd vine like extensions of her hair and what they might do to him, if he hadn't lay still. A power struggle had gone on inside him. He had wanted to flip her over on her back and pin her beneath him.

But she was no ordinary girl and certainly not human. While he had been enjoying the attention, she had been a little rough and the look on her face was not one of pleasure, but curiosity. He recalled the look of apprehension in her eyes. Mixed emotions had swirled in the depths; uncertainty, arousal, desire, and a little bit of fear. She had been excited, but unsure what to do. He was concerned for her. She had looked so frightened and so pale. So, he had followed her.

What he saw upon entering the woods brought back memories of that morning. She was in front of that same Oak tree. Her back was to it, and she was hunched over, crying. She seemed to be talking to the tree. A whoosh of wind knocked him back. He staggered and stood, gazing up at the great Oak tree. He squinted against the sun, frowning. Were the leaves brown? He heard murmuring and listened.

“I want him to touch me.” He heard her voice say. “But it is forbidden.” Forbidden? He'd see about that! Did she want him as desperately as he wanted her? He would go slow, not frighten her, help her understand those feelings. She looked up at his approach.

“You cannot be here.” The most words she had spoken to him since their first meeting.

“This is my grandfather's land.” He replied dumbly. She shook her head.

“Mistie, why are you crying?” He watched tears stream down her cheeks to gather in a small puddle on the earth. A small sprout broke the surface of the earth. Eyeing the plant curiously, William shrugged, then went down on one knee in front of her, ignoring the water and mud soaking his jeans. She closed her eyes and wished him away. He put his hands on her knees and moved his head into her line of vision. She opened her eyes and blinked.

“My mother is dying.” She sobbed. Mother-tree was not truly her mother, but there was no time to explain the intricacies of trees and nature spirits to him. “When she dies I will be alone.”

William didn't know what he'd expected her to say, but surely that hadn't been one of the thoughts in his mind.

“I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” He fished out a tissue and handed it to her.

“There is naught that anyone can do. She is old. It is her time, she tells me. But what you do not understand is that when she dies, so too will I, unless I leave her shelter.” She sighed heavily. He wiped the tears glistening in her eyes with the pad of his thumb.

“It might feel like you're dying, too. It might feel like a piece of you has died with her. But, you will be OK eventually. It will hurt. I've lost people too. I was a baby and too young to remember my father dying, but I remember very clearly when my grandmother died. You will get through it. I'll help you if you let me.” This unexpected compassion he was showing overwhelmed Mistie more than anything.

“It is not that I might feel like I am dying: I will die. We are connected. What happens to her, happens to me too. Unless...” She let the sentence trail off. William wanted to understand but she just sometimes made no sense at all.

“Unless what?” He cupped her chin and lifted her face to his. “You can tell me.”

“Unless, I give up who I am.” She captivated him with her eyes.

“Who are you?” He questioned. He might finally get answers.

“Of the trees.” She replied simply.

His turn to stare, dumbfounded. “Can you elaborate?” He asked gently.

“I am Mistletoe, the hamadryad. I am a tree spirit.”

Now he knew he was probably lying in the pasture with a concussion. “A dryad, huh?” He laughed, uneasy. She nodded her head.

“You do not believe me.” She frowned as he considered what she had said. He quirked his eyebrow. She took his hand in hers and pulled him all the way down to her level. She placed his hand against the bark of the tree.

“Close your eyes.” She instructed.

He gave her a doubtful look, but the pout on her face convinced him to close his eyes. After all, the girl did just heal his knee.

“Lean close.”