"The Elder Mother is thought to be the guardian of the elder trees, and it was said, until recent times in various parts of England and Scandinavia that to take wood from the elder tree one would have to ask the Elder Mother first, or else ill luck would befall the woodsman."

Arthur walked through the forest, passing by the resident fairies on the way. They all seemed to be heading in one direction, excitedly fluttering their wings and stirring animals from their afternoon naps. Said animals looked sleepily at the brightly lit figures before snapping awake and dashing in the direction the fairies were heading. So, Arthur decided to follow them.

His green eyes shone with the reflection of the forest as he chased after it's natives. When the suddenly stopped, he skidded to a halt.

The animals and fairies were gathered around a small clearing that only had one tree growing tall in it's center. A tall elder tree with various looming boulders surrounding it. A haunting verse whistled through the trees surrounding the place.

"Seven long strides thou shalt take,
And if Long Compton thou shalt see,
King of England thou shalt be."

Slowly, the boulders began withering away under the breeze, revealing the forms of shocked soldiers and a king cringing away from the tree. But the forms remained stone, only stone. Though, the tree was a different story.

It's roots began twisting and turning about, the bark softening and changing into a (s/t) color. It's two prominent branches shrunk down and lowered. It's green leaves turned (h/c) as the whole being reached the size of a (height) woman.

And it did not stay a tree. No. Arthur's eyes widened at the figure he saw before him. A lean woman appeared where the tree once was. She was curled up on the ground previously, but now stretched upward from her balled up position, (h/l) (h/c) hair falling towards the earth as it shone in the sunlight. She yawned and blinked open her (e/c) eyes.

When you awoke from your long slumber, the first thing you noticed was that you weren't alone. You knew that your awakening would attract the local creatures, but there was something different near you. Looking up, you found a tall figure hidden amongst the trees you were so familiar with.

You smiled at him and stood. The long green dress you wore fell down in layers, hanging loosely over your shoulders. The warm grass felt soft under your bare feet as your approached the man.

"Hello," you whispered, not quite used to your voice again.

He stuttered out an echo to your greeting, "H-hello."

Your smile grew as you noticed his accent. British. It was sweet and ringing, but light, reminding you of a spring breeze as it brushed through your leaves. The man seemed nervous though, and the wind shuddered against the bark.

Nervously, your eyebrows pressed together, but the smile remained constant. "I won't hurt you. What's your name?"

His fear seemed to change to confusion and curiosity. "Arthur. And you?"

"(F/n)."

Stiffly, he bowed to you. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss (F/n)."

You curtsied back, "And you, Mr. Arthur."

Arthur grinned at you and took a step closer, though he still seemed hesitant to get too near to you. But you remained still, allowing him to reach you at his own pace. When he stepped into the direct light of the sun from the patched shadows of the surrounding trees, you were awestruck at his appearance.

Sandy blonde hair that hung messily over stunning emerald eyes as they gazed up at you from under thick eyebrows. "If you don't mind me asking," he spoke up, snapping you from your stupor, "what exactly are you?"

A grin lit your face and a small, chiming laugh escaped your crescent-shaped lips. "Well that's easy, of course." His eyebrows raised and you got even closer to him, enough so to feel his warm breath on your face. "I'm a witch."

His mouth hung open and you laughed again, placing a quick peck on his cheek. "And you," your smile slid into a smirk, "have released my curse."

"As Long Compton thou canst not see
King of England thou shalt not be.
Rise up stick and stand still stone
For King of England thou shalt be none;
Thou and thy men hoar stones shall be
And I myself an eldern tree."