Chapter 127

“What the-” She stole the startled words from his lips with another kiss as she used nimble fingers to unbutton his pants. He tried to sit up, but she allowed her vines to creep down and stroke his cheek. He blinked in surprise and lay back down. She grinned impishly at him. She wasn't sure what she was doing or why she was acting this way, but didn't really care. She made quick work of his jeans and slid them down over his legs, picking up his hand and placing it on her breast.
Mistie had no control over her actions and it scared her. Her eyes widened seeing the length of flesh. She had never seen one up close before. Other naughty and rebellious dryads had told her about this thing called a “cock,” but she was not quite prepared for it. She did not understand why anyone would liken it to a rooster! She slid her hands around it.
What did she think she was doing? She looked down at his erection in her hand and squeezed. The texture was like nothing she had ever felt before. Hard, but almost silky, like the petals of a flower. How odd! She wrapped her hand around it and gave it a tug. It twitched and he groaned and tried to stop her. She tugged again, then reached down and pet it like it was some small animal. When it leaped, she cringed and dropped it. She frowned, glancing from the living extension of him to his face. He sat up and gently took her hands into his and kissed the tops of each. She looked up from his cock into his eyes.
“Are you OK?” He questioned. She wrenched from his grip, leaping to her feet. “No wait. It's alright.” He struggled to his own feet, yanking his jeans back up and buttoning them quickly. She bit her lower lip and backed away from him.
***
Mistie was mortified at herself. When she had linked with his mind to ease his suffering she had felt his intention and desire for her. She made it her own and acted without thought. What would Mother-tree think of her? Goddess, she had to get away. She left him where he stood, bewilderment and confusion evident on his face. She ran for the trees and didn't stop running until her hand connected with her tree. She was dryad, not human. She had no business being in this human's life.
“Mother.” She cried out. “Mother, what is happening to me?” But only the rustles of leaves answered back. She couldn't feel her tree. Something was wrong. She didn't know what to do. She felt lost and disconnected. She rested her head against the sun-warmed bark and sobbed.
“Mistletoe child, I am dying.” The soft familiar voice explained. She wiped her eyes and gazed high up at the Oak tree. “The path lies before you. You must be brave and follow where that path leads.” A branch swept downward and nudged her closer. She wrapped her arms around as much of the girth of the tree as she could and leaned her cheek against the rough bark.
“Dying? Mother-tree, how can that be? You are the wisest and strongest in all the wood. You cannot possibly be dying. What will come of me?” She squeaked out realizing the implications of her words. She would be tree-less, home-less, alone.
“You will not be alone for long, little one. It is time for you to seek out your destiny. He lies before you. All dryads must plant their daughters in a sapling. When that time comes, you will no longer be bound to earth. It is the way of things when the Mother-tree dies. You have been with me since I was a seed in the earth and you were just a splinter of goddess light.”
Mistie wept and rebelled. She had been with Mother-tree for more years than she could count. Each spring she would leave the tree for a week and do her growing work, but always she would return to her home. This couldn't be happening.
“Who is he?” She asked, sniffling.
“The human man, Xander. He is more than he seems dear one.” The rustle on the wind was but a gentle whisper, soothing to her heart.
“What is it you die of mother?” Mistie caressed the bark.
“Old age. It is my time. Just as it is your time to tap into the wellspring of magic within you and bring forth new life from your center.” She replied.
“When will it happen? I am not ready to say goodbye.” Mistie confessed sadly.
“It will be soon. I have unfinished business to attend to first. You will know when. Fear not. My heartwood beats within your chest, always.” The branches of the tree held her in an embrace.
“But you always warned me against humans. You always told me they were evil and destructive. You said that forsaking my essence would destroy me and I would be severed from the earth connection. I would be lost to you. You have told me that ever since I was a child. I am confused.” She turned around and slid to the forest floor, pulling her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. She leaned forward and lay her head down, weeping.
“There are things you were not yet ready to be told, until now. You are ready to hear truth. I only wish that you will not be angry with me.” A creak sounded as the tree arched her trunk and a sigh of air caught Mistletoe's attention.
“Have you feelings for him?” Mother-tree asked. Mistletoe lifted her head to gaze up at the staggering height, wondering why Mother-tree was asking this of her. The healthy green growth of Mother-tree was browning just at the edges.
“I do not know. When he is near I feel overwhelmed, out of control, and thirsty. Is that what you mean?” She questioned.
***
Xander couldn't just let her go, not after the feelings she stirred within. He wondered how the tables had so quickly turned. One minute the unconscious beauty had been lying in his arms, and the next she had him pinned to the ground and was undressing him. He had feared the odd vine like extensions of her hair and what they might do to him, if he hadn't lay still. A power struggle had gone on inside him. He had wanted to flip her over on her back and pin her beneath him.
But she was no ordinary girl and certainly not human. While he had been enjoying the attention, she had been a little rough and the look on her face was not one of pleasure, but curiosity. He recalled the look of apprehension in her eyes. Mixed emotions had swirled in the depths; uncertainty, arousal, desire, and a little bit of fear. She had been excited, but unsure what to do. He was concerned for her. She had looked so frightened and so pale. So, he had followed her.
What he saw upon entering the woods brought back memories of that morning. She was in front of that same Oak tree. Her back was to it, and she was hunched over, crying. She seemed to be talking to the tree. A whoosh of wind knocked him back. He staggered and stood, gazing up at the great Oak tree. He squinted against the sun, frowning. Were the leaves brown? He heard murmuring and listened.
“I want him to touch me.” He heard her voice say. “But it is forbidden.” Forbidden? He'd see about that! Did she want him as desperately as he wanted her? He would go slow, not frighten her, help her understand those feelings. She looked up at his approach.
“You cannot be here.” The most words she had spoken to him since their first meeting.
“This is my grandfather's land.” He replied dumbly. She shook her head.
“Mistie, why are you crying?” He watched tears stream down her cheeks to gather in a small puddle on the earth. A small sprout broke the surface of the earth. Eyeing the plant curiously, Xander shrugged, then went down on one knee in front of her, ignoring the water and mud soaking his jeans. She closed her eyes and wished him away. He put his hands on her knees and moved his head into her line of vision. She opened her eyes and blinked.
“My mother is dying.” She sobbed. Mother-tree was not truly her mother, but there was no time to explain the intricacies of trees and nature spirits to him. “When she dies I will be alone.”
Xander didn't know what he'd expected her to say, but surely that hadn't been one of the thoughts in his mind.
“I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” He fished out a tissue and handed it to her.
“There is naught that anyone can do. She is old. It is her time, she tells me. But what you do not understand is that when she dies, so too will I, unless I leave her shelter.” She sighed heavily. He wiped the tears glistening in her eyes with the pad of his thumb.
“It might feel like you're dying, too. It might feel like a piece of you has died with her. But, you will be OK eventually. It will hurt. I've lost people too. I was a baby and too young to remember my father dying, but I remember very clearly when my grandmother died. You will get through it. I'll help you if you let me.” This unexpected compassion he was showing overwhelmed Mistie more than anything.
“It is not that I might feel like I am dying: I will die. We are connected. What happens to her, happens to me too. Unless...” She let the sentence trail off. Xander wanted to understand but she just sometimes made no sense at all.
“Unless what?” He cupped her chin and lifted her face to his. “You can tell me.”
“Unless, I give up who I am.” She captivated him with her eyes.
“Who are you?” He questioned. He might finally get answers.
“Of the trees.” She replied simply.
His turn to stare, dumbfounded. “Can you elaborate?” He asked gently.
“I am Mistletoe, the hamadryad. I am a tree spirit.”
Now he knew he was probably lying in the pasture with a concussion. “A dryad, huh?” He laughed, uneasy. She nodded her head.
“You do not believe me.” She frowned as he considered what she had said. He quirked his eyebrow. She took his hand in hers and pulled him all the way down to her level. She placed his hand against the bark of the tree.
“Close your eyes.” She instructed.
He gave her a doubtful look, but the pout on her face convinced him to close his eyes. After all, the girl did just heal his knee.
“Lean close.”