I have anothe brother and sister in my novel: Finnbjörn and Johanna – of the elvish people, finely dressed, cunning and mischievous. They play in the night, and will be sometimes trustworthy, sometimes not to my protagonists. Johanna will user her cunning and entice Andy into joining her in the elvish world, and where he will die, a fool for love.
What I would like to know is why it’s taken four or five hours for these two show their deeds to me, for the writing to come – and why now, on the cusp of a new day when really I should already be in bed and resting before the new day? It’s simply not fair, but then if they were fair, they would not be mischievous…?!!
Current wordcount: 40,346
Beneath the window, Finnbjörn plays in the garden. He is slight and slender and richly dressed in fine clothes. He conjures tricks from the stars and plays with the sprites and faerie folk. He climbs the wall of the house athletically, and finds a perch on the window sill where he can sit and stare in at the brother and sister asleep within.
“She never said thanks,” his voice is light and lilting, “She didn’t credit that we were there.”
Finnbjörn looks along the glazed window to where his sister Johanna has joined him on the sill. Her hair is glistening fair, her eyes the shiniest blue, her face, angles of beauty and shining like silver. She turns her head towards her brother.
“You know that the other, he has arrived back in the city?”
“Is this true?” Finnbjörn reflects on Helen sleeping in her bed, “Has she neglected her boy?”
“‘Tis true. Olà saw him arrive,” Johanna, slips the catches the window, and prances down into the room. She steps slightly, in her satin gown, her jewellery glistening in the moonlight, making small circles from her steps, leaping Helen’s bed, and ducking down close to listen to her breathing. She looks up her across Helen’s sleeping face. Finnbjörn’s playful smile is close and opposite.