The first meeting

There was a thud and the surprised cry of a woman, followed by a sudden flurry of red and green. His fingers became caught in something black and silken as he and whoever he had collided with toppled to the ground. Her cries turned into curses and protests as he struggled to free himself from the spidery strands of what he realized was her hair.

"Get off of me, you bloody half-wit!" She snarled, shoving her hands roughly against his chest.



Owain scrabbled to his feet.
"A thousand apologies, m'lady." He said hastily, grabbing for her hands and helping her to her feet.
Her hair, a tangled mess of raven curls, was down in her eyes and hiding her face. With another muttered curse, she whipped the dark locks from her eyes and glared at him.
"A fellow ought to watch where he's going." She chastised, brushing herself off. She was fae, that much he could tell, though she somehow wasn't as beautiful as the people he had seen earlier. Her hair was an unruly mass of black twists and waves that practically swallowed her small, heart shaped face, and her lips were pursed with irritation. Her sea green eyes, however, he decided were quite lovely.
His own face burning crimson, Owain stooped to gather the renegade tomatoes that had flown from the wicker basket on the ground near her feet and were now merrily rolling down the cobblestones.

"I'm terribly sorry." He said sheepishly. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She huffed. "But it seems my poor vegetables have taken a beating." She examined one of the bright red fruits. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. They will surely end up in a stew anyway."
She narrowed those lovely green eyes at him. "Why the hurry?"

Owain placed the remaining escapees back into the basket as she slid it onto her crooked arm.

"I was...looking for something."

"Is it something important?"

"Well, I suppose..."

She shifted the basket on her arm, all the anger in her face gone. "Perhaps I can help?"

Owain cleared his throat. "That won't be necessary. I don't want to trouble you any more than I already have."

"Oh, it's no trouble." She cocked her head, all of her curls tumbling to one side. "It's more of a public service really, keeping you from careening into some other poor sod. That and I hate to think that my poor tomatoes have suffered in vain." She linked her free arm with his. "Now what is it we're looking for?"
The brazenness of her touch made him blush even harder. "Ummm...my..." he realized that several of the old crones at the herbalist's table were glaring at them disapprovingly.
He coughed nervously. "Cat." He choked out at last. "I'm looking for my cat."

"Your cat!" She cried with amusement, leading him back toward the vendors' booths.
"Well, he's not exactly MY cat..." he said stiffly.
One of the crones spat on the ground in front of them. "Hussy!" She hissed.
The faery girl cheekily blew the old woman a kiss and continued to drag Owain along behind her.
"I suppose cats don't really belong to anyone, do they?" She mused. "What sort of cat is he?"
"A magical one. Where are we going exactly?"

"There's a fish merchant here. If I were a cat, that's where I'd be." She stopped suddenly, and Owain nearly lost his footing. "Did you say a magical cat?"
"Yes, you see-"
"Is he a Cait Sith? Those are the only magical cats I know of."
"No," he slid his arm from hers and nervously smoothed his hair down with both hands. "He's a wizard."
She blinked at him. "A cat wizard."
"Yes. No."
"Well which is it?"
"He's a wizard that got turned into a cat."
She raised an eyebrow.
"He's not a very good wizard." Owain said a bit sheepishly.
She laughed. "I should think not!"

Author's Note

*unedited version