The first time I came to see you, I had dirt stains on my knees and a little toy knight clutched in my grubby fingers, the branches snagging on my tousled hair as I stumbled through the forest. I'd laughed and pointed and scooted closer to you, seated on a log, placing the little smiling figure in chain-mail next to you, almost your size, and gently promising that we wouldn't hurt you. That summer had been magical in every sense of the word- you flitting through the trees above me as I ran barefoot on the dirt trails, crunching leaves underfoot, and my stories of a whole big world out there mingling with your talk of the Seelie Court and an acorn-bark house high up in the trees. You spoke me of the dew I could drink that would make me one of you, and I'd laughed and shook my head and talked of knights and their adventures. You could be my princess, I'd exclaimed, and I'd build you a castle and we'd rule over this land of hills and trees and brooks forever.

Then I was gone, when the summer ended, my promise to come back again - sometime, somehow - falling into the wind amid tears.

The next time I was taller, rising like the oaks around us, with an easy smile and the same brown eyes sparkling with adventure. I was going to be a knight, I said, or as close to it as I could. My voice was lower, and gone was the soft curve of boyhood along my body, replaced by long, lean lines and a dusting of hair where there'd been none. I'd told you stories again, of rooms and books and long days drifting off into memory of a place where pines soared overhead and another world waited just past the creek that smelled like rosemary.

My lips had brushed yours, fingers fumbling in the night, and again you'd spoken of golden dew. I'd shook my head with pain in my eyes, whispering that I'd be back. And maybe then we'd build that castle.

The time after that, my cheeks were scruffed with hair, hollow eyes melting back into warmth when I'd heard the whir of wings again. My legs gleamed black like beetle shells, the warmth from them gone but the same lopsided smile spreading across my face. This time my stories were of two mad kings and their toy soldiers that bled and choked on frozen mud; machines that shook the earth, of riding into battle while smoky flowers blossomed in the sky.

I'd looked past you, and seen castles shining in the clouds, and this time I spoke of immortality with love and longing.

And then I'd looked at you, and my eyes shone. I'd cupped my palms for you, to lift you to my lips, and it was like we were back, so many years ago, in that golden grove.

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