Mint sat submerged to her waist in the warm spring water surrounded by nymphs. No doubt she'd be the envy of every man back home. One could only dream of being surrounded by literal divine maidens. Though their activities would probably leave much to be desired.
The nymphs were giving her a thorough scrub-down. They shampooed her hair and lathered her skin with a mixture of flower and fruit oil. It was not an unfamiliar process; her maids did much the same back at the castle, but these were nymphs. It didn't feel right for them to be waiting on her.
"I'm fine doing this myself," she meekly protested. Her words went unheeded as the nymph attending her chatted away in their ancient language. Finding her light blue skin fascinating. When they went to wash 'those' parts, she covered them with her hands, but that only resulted in her being spread-eagle on a flat boulder. Forced to endure the treatment as her entire body blushed. One nymph with dark emerald hair approached with a string woven between her fingers.
"What are you doing with that?" The Nymph, of course, answered in ancient Elven as she positioned herself between Mint's legs and began running the string down her thigh. She could feel the hairs on her leg disappear, which was nice, but the nymph kept moving closer to her groin. "No, really, I'm fine with you leaving that!"
Her words once more went unheeded.
Only after the Nymph were satisfied with her condition was Mint allowed to soak peacefully by herself. After all that unrestrained attention, Mint was happy to be by herself. From her position near the waterfall, she watched the nymphs frolic about.
Many were splashing each other, some were sunbathing by the shore, and others were doing crafts such as weaving clothes, stringing bows, making oils, or carving instruments. A few were playing soft tunes and were slowly gathering into a single orchestra.
Fauntheia, the supposed leader of this group, was nowhere to be seen. Was that a problem? Probably not, but it was something to note.
I wonder if they know?
Mint inspected her tattooed arms. She still bore the mark of Elfania, but there was also a mark for Minerva and Solaris from when she prayed to all three goddesses. Did these nymphs truly still consider her an Elfanian? They were pushy, but still very kind.
"Itoska?"
"Huh?" Mint raised her head at the familiar term, fidgeting before her was Fauntheia.
"You are Itoska, cousin, yes?" She said in half-broken Hussain, a dialect in the eastern lands of Saine. Fauntheia pressed her hands together and spoke again in her usual elvish.
"Yes, Itoska," Mint replied.
"Come with me, yes?" Fauntheia grabbed her by the wrist and led her towards the shore where the Nymphs playing instruments gathered. She called for the others to cease their crafting and join them. Mint was placed in the center of the band and given a sheet of parchment with lyrics. Seems they expected her to sing.
At her side, Fauntheia made a conductor's wand out of reeds and prompted her to sing. Mint scrunched her nose at the lyrics, surprised by the contents of the song. It was a nursery rhyme mothers used to teach their children letters. Most notably, it was written in modern Solarian.
"Alfa…" Mint sang the song in tune with the music of the Nymph band, while Fauntheia sang the same verse in Ancient Elvish, the gathered Nymphs repeating the words. Once they reached the end, they played it again, and again. Eventually they repeated the song so many times, Mint lost count. But something was different; all the Nymphs were singing the song in Solarian now.
"That's enough. Do you all have it down?" Fauntheia said in shaky, but clear Solarian. "Dear Minette, can you understand me well?"
"Yes, but how?"
Fauntheia coughed, trying to hide a blush. "Mother implanted the language of Solaris in us, but we haven't spoken it for so long, we've forgotten it. Unwatered trees wither, as does the mind. That is to say, we needed a refresher."
"You relearned Solarian just through that song?"
"Correct, though our vocabulary will be hindered, and you know as it's said, old habits, yeah?" Fauntheia smiled and spoke a bit of ancient. "But this will be easier for you, yes?"
"Very much, thank you." Mint beamed and was once more set upon by the Nymph en masse. All of them fought for her attention as they shouted the questions she couldn't understand before.
"You're a daughter of Bellanyx, can you enter shadows?"
"Does your skin glow in the dark? Does your hair glow?"
"What's it like to be born from flesh? Is it different from being born from a tree?"
"Are you Brother's wife?"
Mint readily answered all the questions she could, but froze upon hearing that last one. "Brother's wife?"
"Yes!" The young nymph who asked bounced excitedly. "Brother Verk and you are mate's right? Has he planted his seed yet?"
An uncomfortable number of hands began patting her stomach again, as they'd done when washing her. They thought she was with Verk's child?
"No!" Mint cried, her entire face burning hot. "And we're not like that! Verk and I, we just met!"
"Correct," Fauntheia said, nodding. Before Mint could dare hope the elder Nymph would clear things up, she proved to be just as ignorant. "They need to engage in mating rituals first before bearing a child. Verk must prove worthy of tarnishing her flower garden."
Oh, sweet mother Elfania… Mint wanted to curl up and die!
"Oh, oh! Does he have to slay a beast!" One Nymph asked.
"Or must he defeat her in combat like Great Sister Alfa?" said another.
"I don't think cousin Minette is mighty enough for that." A nymph rebuked while squishing Mint's rather pathetic arms. "Can you even lift a sword?"
"No, but that's beside the point. While I am grateful to Verk, we are not entangled in any such way. I'm merely under his care for the duration of the winter. Once the snow thaws, I will…" Mint's harsh shut down of the Nymph misconceptions came to a stuttering halt. "I will be given away to my fiancé, the Prince of Halifax, or at least returned home to my father, King Bellanyx."
The Nymph, including Fauntheia, exchanged puzzled looks before one — she wasn't sure who — said, "Why?"
"Why?" Mint blinked. "That is the way it must be. I have responsibilities to my kingdom and family. An agreement was made, and it must be honored."
Not that she wanted to honor it, but considering the lives lost to her selfish prayer, fulfilling her duty for her fallen knights and maids was the least she could do. The nymphs didn't find her argument compelling, though.
"Is a prince higher in rank than brother Verk?"
"In mortal terms, maybe."
"Is he stronger? That's how this is sorted out in the human lands, right? The strongest male gets the female, correct?"
"I believe that only applies to the Yorgmen," Fauntheia clarified. "The humans have many and varied customs, as numerous as the stars. As we differ from salamanders, so do they differ from each other."
As the Nymph buzzed with excitement over her potential marriage partner and the bloody battle they imagined taking her hand would bring. Mint asked Fauntheia an important question. "You know of the Yorgmen?"
"Of course, I know all my mother wished me to know. Of all the clans of man, I am intimately acquainted with the Yorgmen."
"Because Verk's father was one?" Mint pressed, as Fauntheia's smile grew.
"Well, that is true, but I tangled my roots with a few myself." She held her hand to stomach nostalgically. "I wonder how large those sprouts have grown."
"Regardless," Mint fought down her blush and pressed on. "Verk's father is a Yorgmen, so does that make you his mother?"
Fauntheia was the eldest nymph here, and her hair was more golden than emerald green. Not an exact match to the golden hair beauty that saved her, but she could have been delusional in that moment.
"Let's not joke about that," Fauntheia said sharply with a huff. "I'm only 243. Verk is my little brother as well. Still, I remember his father; he's probably at his grave now."
"I see," Mint looked off in the direction Verk went and recalled the third clearing he said wouldn't hold her interest. "Is it that way?"
"Yes," Fauntheia said and ordered the Nymph to disperse. "Let's leave it at that. Shall we? How about we weave you some clothes or perhaps a flute while we await his return?"
"I'm no good with instruments." Mint admitted.
"You've plenty of time to learn," Fauntheia chuckled, ushering her towards the crafters. As they walked, she softly said, "Mother still cares for you."
"Huh?" Mint's ears fluttered, uncertain if she had heard the words correctly. "What did you say?"
"I said perhaps you'll prefer the lute."
"Oh," Mint sighed as Fauntheia patted her head.
-break
In the time it took Verk to return, five days passed. Mint wove leaf garments, carved a flute and a lute, and was mercilessly taught how to play both to the minimum standard of her Nymph cousins. All while enjoying bathing in hot water every day, slathered in scented oils, and enjoying the fruits of the forest's bounty.
Even though it was warm around the Nymph's spring, there was one thing Mint was tired of. That was sleeping on the ground. Nymphs slept within their trees when they needed sleep; she, as a Nacht. Couldn't enter trees. Thus, she spent the last five days sleeping outside on the grass, using her cloak as a blanket.
"You're back!" Mint ran to Verk with all her winter garments and her new items in one huge bundle.
"Yes," Verk checked her head to toe. If he had something to say about her leaf thong and chest band, he didn't say it. "You ready to go?"
"Yes," Mint sighed, having thoroughly scratched her social itch. "Let's go home."
"Then get dressed; it's winter out there."
As Mint tied herself to Verk for the journey back home, Fauntheia and the Nymph gathered around and waved them off.
"We'll come visit you next time, little brother, little sister." The Elder Nymph smiled. Verk seemed taken aback as he huffed and said they were welcome to come.
Mint looked curiously between Verk's blushing face and Fauntheia, not quite understanding what had the young man so flustered.
"Don't worry, the house will stay clean with me around." She said, meaning to reassure, but Verk's face remained flushed.