The Ballad of Eert (Fandral)

[Zatanna Zatara]

I put a spell on you, you hear me?
because you are mine - - - - - - - -

The Mistress of Magic

[style=margin-top: -10px; margin-right: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 360px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 15px; background-color: #050505; color:#8E8A8E;filter: alpha(opacity=50); -moz-opacity: .50; opacity:.50;] What little kid didn't like to play in the forests as a child? Having grown up in New York, Zatanna's taste of nature was being surrounded in a garden of steel and concrete trees, until she went to Central Park that is. It seemed silly to think back to a time when she didn't know about magic, when Central Park was just a place where the air felt better and not because there was something else about the environment that felt different. Perhaps she could sense the magic even then, the magic that lived in the very trees itself.

Giovanni Zatara was a stage magician, but in her youth she truly believed her father was a wizard, like ones that came straight out of her fairy tales. She was his little princess, but never a damsel, always fierce in her own right, most often armed with an enchanted sword or a fairy's wand. Yes, long before she became the Mistress of Magic, Zatanna Zatara was just a child who believed in magic and her father was her hero.

Then, she grew up, unknowing of her heritage, that some of his bedtime stories were really true until it was all too late. Zatanna had long given up the guilt on the loss of her father, but she would be lying if she said she didn't miss him. He was her strength, even now. She believed in magic once more. She believed in her father. He was still her hero. Always.

Sherwood might have been an unexpected stop from her trip to Paris, but Zatanna needed to grab some ingredients that were only found in forests as old as this one. Since it was conveniently on her way, why not?

The boughs of the trees let in little archways of moonlight into the forest floor, little sets of flowers nestled in their pockets. It was these flowers she was after, carefully selecting a few blossoms and immersing them into glass vials for safekeeping, preserving the light of the moon inside. She didn't touch any of it of course, letting a few whispers guide the flowers along and packing each of the vials into her top hat for safe keeping. "So you little dears don't just up and wander off!" she warned them, and then a large opening in the center of the forest stood before her.

Zatanna stopped at a circle of trees in front of a great oak tree, larger and older than any other of its children in the forest. The magic was practically singing in the small clearing, concentrated at this very spot in the forest, where so much time and history had collected.

Something struck her, some small childish impulse to climb it, and hang upside down from her knees. She perched herself onto a branch for a moment, considering to herself how old the tree was and how silly she must have seemed. "Sometimes, I swear," she smirked quietly to herself. Hanging her hat on a nearby branch, Zatanna nimbly allowed her upper-body to fall backward, seeing the world in turn into reverse. "Huh! You tricky old tree. I see you have a few stories of your own to share.."

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Tag: Fandral the Dashing! | Words: 533 | Lyrics: Screamin' Jay Hawkins, I Put a Spell on You | Outfit: Stage uniform | Notes: I found Eert!

TEMPLATE BY VIKA OF CAUTION.

[Fandral the Dashing]

It had been a long time since Fandral had been in these woods, long enough even by his standards. The last time he had been in the Midgardian realm it had been simply to help Thor defeat the Destroyer that Loki had so graciously decided to send after him, and when that was done there was not much chance to do anything else but go home, for things were still tumultuous there. But this time around, there was actual time to do things, to go places, in fact acclimating to the Midgardian way of life was apparently encouraged. So Fandral took the chance to go back to a place that for the blink of an eye, was home.

New York was a sight to behold with its tall concrete buildings reaching into the sky and the multitudes upon multitudes of people hustling and bustling by, going on with their daily lives. But the forests of England had a special place in his heart, bittersweet in a way because of the memories it brought back, even now he still missed his maiden, but now didn't seem the right time to fall into a depression over it. No he was busy reintroducing himself to the lovely forest he had known so well those many years ago.

It was amazing how things had changed, and yet still it was all somehow the same. There was a genuine smile on his face as he picked his way through the trees, armor clinking as he walked, the blonde really hadn't gotten comfortable with Midgardian clothing just yet, preferring the safe and soothing weight of his armor, he didn't know how Thor wandered around without it. Humming a tune as he walked, his steps were light, his general aura was one of merriment when he spotted the strangely dressed maiden hanging from a very familiar tree.

"Hello there lovely maid! Tell me, is the world still as beautiful when it is upside down?" He was almost obnoxiously loud, the man didn't know the meaning of the word 'speaking voice' instead still smiling that easy, charming smile of his as he stepped closer, "Oh! I remember you now!" The fact was, he wasn't talking to the woman, but instead the tree itself, "I remember when you were but a wee sapling almost trampled by my horse!" There was a merry laugh as he slapped the trunk of tree, very much the way someone would pat a friend on the shoulder, "My how much you've grown!"

[Zatanna Zatara]

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At first Zatanna had thought that the tree was speaking to her, answering back at her previously one-sided conversation. It was one thing to talk to trees, common to bored travellers alike, but another business entirely when they spoke back. She was surprised it even knew her language, but an ancient tree had been around voices far longer than she. Sherwood's greatest tree probably heard words that had not been whispered in hundreds of years. Somewhere, buried inside its trunk, the grand Sherwood tree stood as a better historical source than any scholarly text around. What had it witnessed, she wondered; what insight could its heavy boughs offer?

And gosh, did the tree have a loud voice. It nearly startled her straight out of the branch, but before she could find herself sprawled across the forest ground she shouted a quick spell, "Pots!" and froze in midair before she made contact.

Still upside-down, Zatanna's eyes danced around for the source of the sound. Maybe a concealed mouth in the bark or in the roots or- oh, it was a man. A loud man. With blonde hair. And armor. Obviously not from these parts. Or rather, he blended in with Sherwood forest all too well, the ease about him as though he were stepping into his home.

If anything, she looked more out of place than he did, floating there in her coattails and fishnets.

But the man didn't seem to notice her, instead immediately moving over to greet the tree.

Well, weren't they just the pair of tree huggers?

She was on her feet now, raising a brow between Fandral and the tree. "Should I, uh, leave you two alone?" she pointed a nail between the both of them, amused (even if he was loud. Talk about a wake up call). Though there was one fact that nagged at her. How old was this guy if he knew the tree as just a sapling? Zatanna, being a lady, felt it rude to ask his age, though the temptation to toss the word 'grandpa' at him was too amusing to pass up.

♉

Tag: Fandral & Eert! • Words: 374 • Outfit: stage uniform• Notes: He's old.

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