idealistic: (【KRATOS】room for one more;)
lloyd "what's a 'philanderer'?" irving ([personal profile] idealistic) wrote2014-11-09 02:18 pm
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"THE BOG UNICORN" pt. 1 {[community profile] eachdraidh}

Lloyd had asked Flora to take him out to the thickest area in the Greenwood shortly after the Queen had given him her request to seek the dryads. Flight would have been easier and less of a bother to her, or maybe he could have taken Noishe along with him, but he wanted to get to work immediately. If the dryads were as shy as everyone claimed them to be, then there would be no doubt that they wouldn't be loitering anywhere near the city walls. He showed his appreciation for Flora's aid promised that he would make it up to her as soon as he was done with his mission, but still leaving the details behind his quest vague, intent on starting as soon as the Greenwood appeared in his view.

The sooner he could clear this quest, the sooner he could win the Queen's favor. Then maybe he could properly ask his questions by their Majesties' next appearance.

Once Flora vanished after exchanging their "see-you-laters" and he was alone, he quickly realized that... he had absolutely no idea where to start. He was only vaguely familiar with dryads from what the Queen told him: that they were harmless but shy nymphs that usually hid in trees within the Greenwood. What Lloyd didn't know up until he was in the Greenwood proper was that the Greenwood had trees. A lot of trees. And considering he wasn't as familiar with the Greenwood as he was with the surrounding forests around Caer Glaem, this somewhat puts him at a disadvantage.

...Well. If he had to start, now was as good a time as any. At least food wouldn't be a concern, and he could defend himself if the need be.

And so he walked, stopping occasionally so that he could try to relay his message from the Queen to the trees. If he weren't already familiar with the fact that dryads hid in the trees, he probably would have felt silly at the fact that he's talking to nothing but trees. Actually, he still felt a little silly at talking to a bunch of trees. After all, there was no guarantee that a dryad would be living in any tree he stopped by, or so he'd been told. Still, he continued, calling out to thin air in hopes that something would eventually answer him.

"Hello? Is anyone here? My name's Lloyd. I'm here because-- no, wait. I'm here at the, um... request of the Queen of, uhh... I'm here at the request of Caer Glaem's Queen."

This whole "royal messenger" deal was definitely not his thing.

The same plea was attempted at every point he stopped at, pausing in hopes of hearing a response from the elusive dryads but was met with failure at every attempt. The more he asked for their aid, the more desperate he became with his pleas and the more he believed the Queen was yanking his chain about the dryads. She was bigger than most of them, but she was still a fairy, and fairies were known to be pretty mischievous; what's to say that she wasn't as conniving as them?

He growled, stopping that train of thought before it continued. Quit it, Lloyd. She asked you to do this for a reason, and it's not her fault the dryads aren't coming out. Not that he could blame the dryads either; all he could blame was his own growing frustration.

It was difficult to properly tell the exact time with all the foliage, but Lloyd could tell that it was growing late: The sky that peeked through the canopy took on a more orange-y tinge with every passing minute. He would have to set up camp soon if he didn't find the dryads soon, either that or summon his wings to act as a light source. He sighed in frustration, kicking a fallen nut. As much as he figured it wouldn't be quite as easy as he'd hoped (considering how often he traveled and aided others back on Aselia, he really should have seen this coming), this quest was truly testing his patience, and that incessant giggling coming from his left wasn't helping him in any--

Wait.

Pausing midstep and turning his attention to his left, he strained his ears to where he believed that tinkling laughter was coming from. Sure enough, he heard it again: the sounds of women giggling mixed with the rustling of leaves and the small pitter-patter of dainty feet dancing on grass and soil was unmistakable. Could it be? Had he found the dryads? He was told that they enjoyed dancing naked when they were alone (that thought alone was more than enough to bring an awkward heat to his cheeks) and what he's hearing was definitely the rhythmic steps only created with dancing. He immediately moved, sharply turning towards the source with rushed, heavy footsteps, his excitement clouding his rationality as he made his way to a small clearing. The sight that he was greeted with was unlike any other: there was a small group of beautiful women, about four or five of them, all stark naked and dancing to only the sounds of their laughter with hardly a care in the world.

He'd found them. Nightfall was but a moment away and after hours upon hours, he finally found the dryads.

"Hey!"

The women froze, staring at Lloyd with wide eyes as he approached. They didn't even give him a chance to utter a single word before they scrambled, making their way for the trees.

"W-wait!" Dammit, no! They can't run away, not after he'd been searching for them for hours! He ran after them, stopping within the clearing that they once danced in themselves before the discovery. His eyes dart to and fro, trying to find any hint of the women that had run away, but all he could find was bark and flowers... and maybe the face of a woman disappearing into a tree? Maybe the lighting was getting to him.

"I'm sorry! I'm not here to hurt you, I just need your help!" Okay, Lloyd Irving... start small. Introduce yourself, explain why you're here, assure them that the swords at your hips are not for them. Okay. He's got this. Maybe if he unhooks his swords, he can prove that he means no harm? It was worth a try. His hands move to the buckles of his belts, unhooking them and letting them fall to the ground, Gagnrad falling with them, as he raises his hands in a display of surrender. "Look, see? I won't hurt you; I just want to talk. I, umm... I don't know if your friends heard me earlier and if they told you, but..."

He gestured to himself, bringing a hand to his chest. "My name's Lloyd-- Lloyd Irving. The Queen from Caer Glaem sent me here because she needs your help. I don't know if you or your, um, dryad friends were around for it, but there was a really bad battle over at a place called the Cothromach." Red-brown eyes swept over the flora that dotted the clearing and extended into the trees. The flowers, simple as they were, held a beauty he'd never seen before that was only emphasized by the setting sun. "A lot of plants were burned and killed in that battle."

He turns back to the trees, keeping his voice gentle and steady, friendly. "I don't know much about your kind, but I have a feeling that whatever happened back at the Cothromach... It must have really hurt to see all those plants die. The Queen must think so too, since she sent me to ask you to help her regrow the plants there. I know I think so." The last few words rang with truth; it hurt to see any sort of land scorched with evidence of war. It was a sight he was familiar with seeing, particularly in Luin and Ozette, though it was certainly not one he enjoyed. "If you could, I'm sure she would-- actually, all of the Seelie would really appreciate seeing the forests there back to normal."

He stood, patient, waiting for an answer from the women that once danced on the very land he stood upon, yet still not met with an answer. The forest was gradually darkening as he waited, losing count of the minutes before he sighed in defeat. The one chance he had in trying to win the dryads' favor, and he blew it. Slowly, he collected Gagnrad from the ground, tucking them under his arm as he turned away from where the dryads hid so that he could leave. He supposed he could try again tomorrow, after setting up camp and resting some.

"Those swords... You are trained in battle?"

Lloyd jumped, letting out a startled yelp as he lost his footing over a root and tumbled to the earth. He heard the sounds of feminine gasps and rustling leaves as he collected himself and looked around, finding nothing but branches swaying to no wind.

He blinked, staring dumbly at the forest before him. That was definitely a woman's voice he heard.

"Sorry, sorry!" he cried, scrambling to his feet and making his way back to the clearing as he tried to identify the source of the voice. Nothing but trees and shrubbery met his eyes, yet still he continued, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! You just surprised me; I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear." He was met with no answer, but he was sure that there was someone here-- that voice was unmistakable and clear as day. He was getting somewhere, and he couldn't stop now.

"But yeah, umm... I am. I can definitely fight. I taught myself how to use these swords when I was younger, and... and my dad trained me, too." He looked from tree to tree, trying to pinpoint where the voice had come from. Why, of all questions, did they ask him that? Did dryads like people that could fight? Did they hate them? The leaves seemed to rustle as though they were whispering to each other before everything grew still. For a moment Lloyd believed that he wouldn't get another answer from the dryads, but then there's movement from the corner of his eye and what he saw made him freeze. Emerging halfway from one of the trees was a woman with tree bark for skin and flowing chestnut brown hair, more beautiful than any woman he'd seen before, staring at him with as much apprehension as he stared at her with wonder.

Finally, there was progress.

"Hey there," greeted Lloyd with a soft smile. The dryad reeled back as he approached, but Lloyd's easygoing demeanor seemed to have an effect on her; she smiled back, her form becoming more obvious through the rough bark, though she still remained within her tree. A finger twirled around her long hair as she canted her head, asking, "You say you can fight, Lloyd Irving?"

Lloyd gave her an owlish stare, still confused at why she really wanted to know if he could fight, but he nodded regardless. The dryad seemed to consider him for a moment before visibly relaxing.

"I see... Such wonderful news! Our wishes have truly been answered," the dryad untangled the hair from her finger, now opting to comb her hair with her fingers as she spoke, "Lloyd Irving, my sisters and I would gladly aid Her Majesty in restoring the forests of the Cothromach," Lloyd's smile brightened at her words, but before he could say a single word, the dryad continued, "However, we've our own concerns that must be tended to before we can do so. A vile creature of the undead, the Bog Unicorn, has been poisoning our land, the Greenwood without remorse, and we have been searching for a warrior such as yourself to slay the fell beast. Lloyd Irving, if you wish for our aid, then we ask that you first aid us in ridding the forests of this foul creature."

... "Oh-kay... Umm, hold on. You want me to kill the what first?"

"The Bog Unicorn!" Another voice cried to his right, and Lloyd found the silhouette of a dark-haired dryad peeking out from behind a tree. "Such a horrid monstrosity! It bears a man-made symbol of death as its horn, and makes a mockery of the true unicorn!"

A third voice rang out sharply to his left. "The Bog Unicorn is a restless creature from beyond the grave, relentlessly hunting the forest-dwellers and destroying our home with its presence!"

One by one, the small group of dryads had chimed in until they were a chorus of pleas, imploring Lloyd to slay this fake unicorn. Their cries had almost gotten to the point where their voices were painful on his sensitive ears, and to say that their requests left Lloyd a little overwhelmed was a massive understatement.

"Lloyd Irving." The other dryads were silenced as fingertips so impossibly soft for such rough-looking skin gently brushed his jaw, and Lloyd's attention was immediately stolen by the dryad that had appeared to him first. "You seek our aid and we seek the aid of a capable warrior. Please, rid us of that which terrorizes these forests so: Slay the Bog Unicorn, and we will answer the Queen's call to restore the forests surrounding the Cothromach."

This was getting complicated. Once more he should have seen something like this coming, as it had reminded him of the times when he traveled with his companions to restore the worlds, but once again he was piled with another job, even if their request was a reasonable one. The Greenwood is their home: of course they would be protective of it. Of course they would want to make sure that nothing else would harm their land after what had happened. He was resolute with his answer: even as the other dryads agreed with her conditions and continued with their pleas, even before he took the dryad's hand in a gentle grip, and even before he gave her a smile filled to the brim with determination and confidence, his answer was obvious from the moment she made her request.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."