Frejya's Grove: Redraft.

**Hi. I'm re-posting Frejya's Grove after a little editing. Mostly there were changes in the word use and some tightening of sentences, but the story is basically the same. I should mention that I am posting rough drafts of stories here, so expect spelling and grammatical errors. I know that's probably rather unprofessional of me, but I'm not published yet, so I don't think I need to be professional just yet. :) I am thinking of sending this story off to a magazine soon, so fingers crossed! Thanks for reading and pass it along! And don't be afraid to comment or suggest changes!**

Freyja’s Grove

            There is a tree that resides atop of a small grassy mound within a secluded grove deep within the forest to the north. It is a thick strong oak tree with broad stretching branches adorned with luscious emerald leaves. The shade it provides shields against the sun in the hot summers. At the base of its trunk, there is a small nook where the roots seep out through the ground underneath, perfect to lay within. No matter the season, it always seems green there; even in the dead of winter where, somehow, the sun always shines, its foliage is always blooming and the air is always warm.

            I often went to that place throughout my youth, seeking refuge from the mad world and its burdens, secluding myself away thinking my lonely thoughts and dreaming. It was my special place.

            And such dreams I had... At first I was allured by the peace and tranquility there, but it became something more. As I dozed in that mysterious enclave, on top of the matted blades of grass, I would drift to a wonderful place where there was no worry or strife. The skies were always clear and blue and the sun comforted instead of burned.

            It was there I met her. She appeared dressed in a long, silken blue dress dancing barefoot in the meadow amongst the wildflowers. Her hair was black like night, yet her skin was as white as a pearl. Her lips smiled when she saw me, highlighting her high cheeks, but I shied away.

            She didn’t laugh like the others at my ineptitude, but nodded with understanding and continued dancing. I rested against the tree quietly and watched her move, spinning with her arms outstretched, her curly hair arching in the most beautiful flourish. Hypnotized by the sight, I drifted and slept.

            When I awoke, she had come to sit next to me. She gazed into the trees; I followed her sight. There was a doe at the edge of the brush, grazing. I sat upright and startled it. The creature ran into the woods. She looked at me surprised and I muttered an apology, but she smiled brightly and said that it was okay.

            And then I looked into her eyes; such a wonder I could not have possibly imagined. Her irises were like colourful clouds swirling with colours of hazel and deep green. They sparkled down at me and I knew comfort unlike anything I had ever felt.

            We never spoke much, save those first few awkward words. Whenever I went there, I would rest in her lap and she would run her fingers through my hair. Sometimes I would weep, I am not sure why; maybe a release from my isolated existence outside, maybe from the joy that she brought me, but she would always sooth me with her graceful touch and her radiant presence.

            As the years past, I had to leave for school and moved into the city. My visits were less frequent, but I made time whenever my studies allowed or when there was a holiday. She was always glad to see me then, but seemed a little sad. I wanted to ask her, but she would always silence me with an embrace.

            Then, one day in the city, unable to procure transport north, I found myself at a video rental store in order to pass away my time. I stood in line for the checkout when a girl came up behind. I glanced back at her nervously and caught her eye and saw in them the semblance of colour like the woman in my dreams.  Her’s were not as glittery as my secret friend’s, but they did not lack in beauty. Seeing my minute confidence, she smiled warmly as though she understood. I faced forward feeling my back stiffen until she softly asked me what I was renting. I showed her my selection and she nodded with approval. She turned over the cases in her hands and I saw that they were the same.

            We went for coffee after that and talked. Later, we went to her place and watched the movies together. I sat at the other end of the couch fearful of becoming too close. She saw me shiver and offered a blanket. By the end of the first movie, we were snuggled together under the comforter. When I parted her company that night, we shared a quick sensual kiss.

            I saw her frequently over the next few months and forgot about my magical grove. Each time we saw one another, the more we fell in love.

            One weekend came and she had returned home to visit her parents. I had little else to do, so I ventured north and again visited the clearing with the great oak. I stretched out under its branches, blanketing me with shade, and soon fell asleep.

             The woman was there; hunched against the wide trunk, face in her hands, crying. I rushed to her and cast my arms around her shoulders, rocking her. Finally, I asked her what was wrong.

            “My people have forgotten me,” she sobbed, “and you have too.”

            “Never,” I replied, “you will always be in my heart.”

            She managed a smile and returned my hug. “I knew this day would come; I dreaded its arrival. I came here to help you and now that is done. I must go.”

            “Please don’t leave. I need you,” I pled.

            “No you don’t.” She reached up and touched my cheek.

            “Where will you go?” I asked.

            “To my father, to his holy halls.”

            “Will I ever see you again?”

            “One day...”

            And then she was gone and I was alone lying next to the old oak tree. I stayed for hours; tears falling from my face. As night came, I lifted myself and left that sacred place.

            Many years later, I returned with my wife and daughter. We came to the grove in the summer and I showed them the tree. We picnicked there and played, dancing through the meadows amongst the wildflowers.

            When the sun began its descent, we watched leaning against the trunk. My family thanked me for sharing my secret hideaway with them and I silently thanked her, that mysterious woman, for the ease she instilled in me on those dark days. My wife leaned over and planted a kiss on my face and I looked into her wonderful eyes and knew that tranquil peace once more.

End