That day, the third time, Faewyn and I scouted far through forest. She was anxious to show me as much as she could of the Greenwood, and I learned a few new plant names I had never heard before. We became fast friends, and even though I kept trying to convince myself that it was only a dream and this couldn't possibly go anywhere, our friendship felt very real.
I returned many times while I was yet eleven, and through those experiences I even learned a few words in elvish. Faewyn promised that the next time I came, she would teach me archery. I had already witnessed the incredible skill of elven archers from demonstrations by Faewyn, Tawariel, and even Faewyn's father, Calathir. Their world was becoming my second family, unbeknownst to my own family. After trying to explain my third dream, the one in which I met Faewyn, at the breakfast table, I was met by blank stares and my mother's mild "That's nice...."
After that, the realm that I came to know as Greenwood the Great was my secret to keep. Sometime during the summer of my twelfth birthday, I returned to the Greenwood to find Faewyn waiting for me in my clearing. As soon as I materialized, she quickly got up from the rock she was sitting on and ran to me, grey eyes shining. "Gia!" she said exultantly, wrapping me in a tight embrace. I straightened my tunic. Luckily, whatever was the last thing I wore here re-appeared on me when I came back, or unfortunately I would be walking around in a tee shirt that said #YOLO-Yodeling Owls Lived Once and no bottoms. Just some rather odd undies.
Anyway.
"Would you like to know what we are doing today?" she asked with a sly look upon her face.
"Naturally," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Hold on. How did you know I was coming?"
"Lucky guess," she shrugged. "And I had boredom."
"So.....?" I asked.
"Oh, yes." Faewyn said nonchalantly. "I suppose I must introduce you to Wilwarin." She unslung her bow from her back.
"Butterfly...?" I asked, rocking my Elvish learning skills. "Hold on, isn't that Quenya?"
"Good," she smiled. "Yes, butterfly. I prefer the Quenya word for it, though many do not know it. It is my bow, named so for the grace with which it's arrows find their mark."
"I would like to congratulate you, but if I were on the other side of your bow I think I would run," I laughed. She raised an eyebrow. With uncanny speed, she drew an arrow and without warning, shot at the sky. As the arrow fell, I noticed a single leaf was speared on the arrow.
"Impressive," I conceded. "Now I want to learn!" She laughed and from somewhere withdrew another bow, about the same size as hers but maybe a tad bit stouter.
"This is for you," she said. I could only gape at her.
"Are you sure this is a...wise...decision?" I questioned nervously.
"You cannot learn archery without a bow," Faewyn said pointedly.
"I suppose," I said doubtfully.
And so the lessons began.