Sioned's and Owen's story continues in Part 4.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. None of the characters, places, or anything else is meant to be represented by anything in reality. Duh! Fiction, get it? I the author reserve the rights, so please don't go posting this anyplace else without my permission. A very special thanks goes out to Cathy and all the others out there in BCTS land who have encouraged and inspired me to write and keep writing. Another round of thanks goes out to djkauf who is the fastest proofer I've ever encountered. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

My euphoric overloaded brain not so gently alerted me that not only was I cross-dressed in the open door where anyone could see me, but Owen and I had been giving anyone who wanted to see, a free show.

Pulling him inside, he grabbed a rather nice artist's portfolio that'd been sitting next to him. I started to ask him what was in it, but Angel and Kimmie were, hmmm... distracting.

“I take it you've gotten over your aversion to the gay thing.” Angel said in a way that somehow managed not to be hurtful.

“She's my morwyn, a woman.” Owen stated softly. “As such our love couldn't be described as such.” His voice became deeper as he spoke to me. “However even if it was I would still love you. If would not be to either of our preferences, but fate is what she is. The Lady can be quite fickle with her blessings when it strikes her.”

Poor Kimmie was staring at my lover as if Elf struck. It suddenly hit me that she had finally remembered who he was even as a human.

Angel had noticed Kimmie's wordless shock as well. How could anyone miss it really given if she awake she's talking.

“You have a point,” She said crossing her arms. “There's no doubt in my mind that my friend has a strong feminine side. However, because she is my friend I want the best for her. I know others who have similar problems and it isn't easy for them to step into either role, feminine or masculine. They are stuck as gray in a black and white world.”

“Hey, you two.” I spoke up. “I'm right here you know and can speak for myself. You're both right and wrong.”

Looking up in those sky blue eyes that had captured me from the very first time I saw them, I said, “I love you, Owen whoever you are. I can accept that now. It is more comfortable for me when I'm presenting as my therapist would say as a woman. I guess more of how I was raised has clung to me than I care for. However, my feelings for you are the same no matter if I am human or Elf.”

Then I turned to Angel and Kimmie. “You're my best friends, and I know you're worried about me. I'm worried about me! This gender stuff isn't for the weak hearted. Looking at the suicide and assault rates on gender variants are scary stuff. Half of it comes from their own families, and believe me I know my folks fall right into those narrow minded statistics.”

“But,” I pointed out to them. “I am seeing Andrea and doing stuff like this with you exploring just how much girl is in here.” I tapped my stuffed bra. “Maybe I wasn't bouncing around in a dress as a kid, but that is a good thing. My Dad would've murdered me for sure and I never would've met any of you. With that said, I can begin to see a trail of clues I've left behind me.

I bowed my head. “In spite of me defending my art as being a masculine career I'm seeing that perhaps I hid and expressed my femininity in my works. It hasn't been easy admitting that even to myself.”

I found a smile. “Besides if all of you were really that suspicious of each other you never would've been able to set me up like this! So no more fighting, please?”

Then with my hands on my hips I demanded, “So just how did you three arrange this?”

Kimmie who'd finally found her voice explained. “It was easy really. You told us Mr. Meatloaf here used a courier service. We simply kept watch until he showed up and asked him take our letter too. See nothing to it!”

“I must admit, it was surprising to find an extra letter.” Owen gave my friends a bow. “However a very pleasant gift as well. I know how stressful this has been for my morwyn and I'm pleased that she has such good friends standing by her. I thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Angel replied a touch dryly. “She was going through hard times. The two of us know all too well how finding out that you can't fulfill your family and/or other expectations can set you apart, alone. Sioned needed to know and see how she felt when she allowed herself to be feminine in this world.

“Yah!” Kimmie chimed in. “Because of our makeover and girl-time Sioned was able to let her inner hair down, and then when you showed up at the door, Pow! She wasn't thinking about how boys were supposed to do things. She let her heart do the kissing!”

Blushing red, I admitted they'd made their point. I guess I'd known it all along, but had denied it. The very thought of being Gay made me flinch. The less complimentary descriptions burned me as if they were napalm which even a touch caused the flames to stick by association. Perhaps other parts of our small blue planet were more enlightened, but, the area where my family lived and I grew up sure as hell wasn't.

That didn't change the feelings within me for my dyn. Knowing that under these clothes hidden with paint and powder, John was still very much present. At the same time I was, felt, more like I was Sioned. Each and every flaw in my fragile illusion glared out at me. My too large hands despite Kimmie's manicure to the something extra tucked away under the panties I wore, they all reminded me of the truth. However, even that truth was also a lie. I might look like my Father's son, but I'd always been my Mother's daughter instead no matter how I hid, denied, and buried it away.

With all of my heart I wanted to be Sioned, Owen's morwyn, a whole and complete female for her dyn. This illusion was so much closer to that ideal, but yet so far away.

“Sioned?” Owen asked, holding me. “Are you alright?”

My face was still red as looked up at him realizing I'd zoned out.

“This is a little much.” I stammered very self-consciously. “So what's in there?” I pointed at the portfolio trying to change the subject.

“Ah!” His eyes laughed as he smiled. “That's why I'm here. Your friends' invitation gave me the perfect excuse to see you while I take care of some other matters. Besides it includes some things you should be consulted about.”

“Err... those are the drawings I did while on Spring Break?” I asked, cautiously because those were the very things he told me not to talk about.

“Indeed!” Owen replied. “Do you mind if they see?”

“Sure, as long as you don't.” I wasn't sure what was going on.

Opening the portfolio, he revealed three of the drawings that really changed the way I'd always viewed art.

I couldn't help but remember making them. It'd been towards the end of our trip and we'd shared a bed if not slept together if you know what I mean. Being a little restless worrying about our parting so soon, I was up early.

Letting the cool gulf breeze ruffle my hair, I'd looked at Owen still asleep. It was one of those perfect moments where the rising sun created these wonderful shadows framing my dyn's face. Back on Earth I would be looking for my cell phone to take a picture, but I wasn't about to drag a Goblin photographer inside to ruin this moment.

I had better available.

Setting up my art stuff, I began to draw. Immediately, I picked the charcoals because those shadows cried out for that soft darkness. Breaking up the space on the page, I was soon absorbed in the moment.

At first I didn't realize what was happening so intent I was upon my task. Then I saw small motes of charcoals I humorously called 'art dust' floating in the air and landing with exacting precision upon the sketch pad just where they needed to be.

I suppose it was because I was so in the groove that I didn't even stop or pause. It wasn't until Owen was looking over my shoulder that I came out of my near trance. Really that wasn't unusual for me. Looking at what I'd just created, now that was.

Even though I'm thought to be rather talented, it's still frustrating at times to translate what I see with my inner eye to canvas and paper. Not this time. It was as if you could see the love I had for him right there for all to see. Each line spoke of my feelings as the darker shades feathered out so delicately you couldn't tell where they ended. It was magic.

I used magic.

At Owen’s prompting I did three more drawings trying to see if I could duplicate the, err, technique. Two were seascapes and the last was a self-portrait. The answer was yes, and it got easier with each one.

Flying high could almost describe how I felt then, but he bought me back to earth, or maybe I should say the ground since we were on the Wild Side.

“Sioned.” He told me then. “What you have is a very rare gift. Normally it takes much training and discipline to reach and use what we call magic here. That you can instinctively do what takes others years to master only confirms what I’ve always known. You're a precious treasure.”

“However, that comes with the bad as well as the good. There are those who would take advantage of you, and others who would do you harm out of jealousy and envy.”

“Please, you must promise me you will speak to no one about this.” His blue eyes looked intently into mine.

And I had. Those four pictures of mine had stayed behind although I really wanted to take at least his portrait with me. I also had to admit that while I missed him, and dearly wanted to be Sioned again, I itched for the chance to put paint to canvas wondering what I could do with different mediums with the magic.

Both Angel and Kimmie drew in sudden breaths. Hell, I did too! The frames were gorgeous obviously being of Elvish work. Instead of solid wood the entire thing was a delicately carved filigree. The frames themselves were works of art. And he'd placed my charcoal drawings in them?

Aright! I admit they were pretty outstanding, but you really had to see those frames. On the other hand they really did accent the drawings. They further pointed out that the seascapes weren't from around here even though the buildings and trees were, well, other worldly.

But of course the third picture was the one of him that I very much wanted to keep. I had the feeling that was the business he was speaking of, and it'd been taken out of my hands. I did however promise myself there would be other drawings as well as paintings. Which didn't answer why there was such secrecy over his identity or why the reversal on keeping those pictures under wraps. In the end a picture is still just a picture.

While my friends were staring at my work, Owen asked, “Is there somewhere the two us can have some privacy?”

“Sure,” Kimmie answered,” The back-porch swing.”

“I know where it is,” I said as I took him by the hand.

As we sat, I asked, “Are you going to come clean about who you really are O'Curious Traveler?”

“But I am,” He protested. I swear I almost got a sigh out of him that time!

“Really?” I did sigh. “Just an Elf with wandering feet who just happens to own a gold Wild Side passport, and who's treated like a VIP?” I raised a finger as I recalled, “And strangely, no one seems to remember your name, but that wouldn't mean they were covering for you.

“Of course I checked the Elvish peerage to see if there were any matches.” I caressed his face. “But I didn't find you although tons of them resembled you.”

That got a smile out of him. “Don't you know all of us Elves are related to each other?” He took my hand, gently kissing my palm.

Ignoring the pleasant shudder that passed though me I replied. “So I learned. It appears half the Wild Side can claim to be a prince or princess.” I wasn't as 'sensitive' as a human, but I would be lying if I said I didn't like it. What I did resent was that portion of my anatomy that, tucked away or not, was making himself uncomfortably known.

“I don't suppose you're going to explain how a mere Curious Traveler came up with a Wild Side visa when none were available or how you were able to pay for both of us on a Spring Break fling and never for one instant worried about the cost?”

That actually got a laugh from him. “Just because I'm a mere Curious Traveler doesn't mean I'm destitute. For the rest, can I help it if I'm a naturally likable fellow?

Damn, but wasn't his smile hard to resist!

“I take it that as a no.” I stated trying to stay strong. He and the Wild Side had turned my whole life upside, backwards, sideways, and I don't know how many more ways I didn't even know about yet. Were a few hard facts too much to ask for?

“I don't suppose you're going to explain about my drawings either or this abrupt change of face. From the frames, I'm guessing you're taking them to be sold. I wanted to keep the one of you.” I think I was pouting!

“Sioned,” This time he did sigh. “Yes, I have been keeping secrets, but that was to avoid telling you any untruths. I am a Curious Traveler, but Elves live long and my past is complex.” He pulled the small locket from around his neck that I knew held my picture.

“When I first saw you, I will admit to only wanting to have some fun and enjoy the day with someone whom all of the Wild Side was new and exciting.” He softly tilted my face upwards. “The cost of a long life is that everything can seem dull since you've seen it all before. Seeing your delight in even the simple things all took for granted was a precious gift you gave freely to all with your laughter and smiles.”

“When you departed you took a part of my enaid, my soul, with you.” His words were almost whispered, but they had the force of the heavens behind them sending electric tingles though me.

“You remained in my thoughts despite the passing weeks. Finally, I cried surrender and sought out whatever I could find about you.” The passion in his blue eyes devoured my will.

“Yes, I used what influence I had to find and locate where you lived. Yes, again I used my status to arrange for your Spring Break on the Wild Side.” The tension between us was a silent edginess that foretold bolts from above.

“No, I've never regretted any of this for one instance. I had to know what it was I felt for you and more importantly if you returned it. You know my answer to that question as I know yours. You hold my heart in your hands, as I have the honor of holding yours. I cannot say I will not cause you hurt or anger for you can't have love without passion, and that can be a turbulent storm full of wild emotion and terrible beauty as well as an oasis of happiness.

“However my love I have a question for you.” Owen asked.

I gestured for him to go on, not trusting my voice.

“Even if I came here to live here with you on Earth could you stay away from the Wild Side?” He added seeing my face, “And after everything that could be done here to help you become more comfortable with yourself?”

“Not ever walk the Wild side again and become Sioned the Elf again?” My whisper heralded tears.

“Never ever,” His own eyes were glistening.

I knew from talking with Andrea just what Earth medical doctors could and couldn't do. My body was still relatively young and I'd always been on the thin side. There was much they could do to give me a feminine shape. From what I'd researched I might even appear pretty.

However, that was the problem, appear. It didn't matter how much my brains and emotions were that of a woman, my body was still male. I would be the shape and form, but not the substance of what made a woman. The ability to bear children and truly be female just wasn't possible with current medical science. Those flaws I'd seen earlier in the mirror would still be there, only hidden better with surgery rather than makeup.

The Wild Side could and did more. Besides the fact I'd fallen in love with not only Owen, but the place too. Chuck had torn away some of my ignorance, but I couldn't forget the wonderful times I'd there. That's not counting how exhilarating it was to work real magic even if my wand was only a charcoal pencil.

To stay away from all of that forever?

I shook my head, no, tears falling.

“Please don't cry,” He kissed my tears. “I had to tell you what was at stake. Your talent for using magic so effortlessly makes you an even greater treasure then the miracle that brought you to me. To my knowledge not a single other walker or curious traveler has ever been so gifted. It is so rare only a handful on all of Gaia shares it.”

“However, in order to prepare those who would be most surprised and alarmed we're planning on easing them into it by introducing you gradually. Taking your art to auction is a part of that.” He chuckled, tweaking my nose. “We can chase down and buy that drawing back if you like after all this is settled, but linking you with me will help we think. For that we need that picture of me, but we're not ready yet to reveal you to both worlds yet, so your self-portrait will remain hidden for now.”

“We?” I asked. “Why do I think that 'we' doesn't include me?” My question was plain to see. “Just who is included in that 'we?'”

“That's why I've been so busy as you can tell from my letters from all over the Wild Side.” Smiling, he made sure I couldn't stay mad at him. “I had to consult with others who are more learned than I as well as my family.”

Owen didn't mistake what my stare meant when he mentioned his family.

“I am a curious traveler, Sioned.” He sighed. “That role has served me and my family very well for many years. It allowed me to escape traditional obligations that neither suited my temperament nor lifelong goals. I think I can safely say neither my family nor I regret that decision.” A far off look as if remembering another time passed over his face like a cloud obscuring the sun.

“However,” Owen said sadly. “What I cannot do is speak of it even to you. I pray to the Lady that the time for all to be revealed to you comes soon, but it is not now. She picks her own time and place to bless us with her answers.”

“So it is a politics thing made even worse somehow by my being able to make pictures with, you know?” I used a finger to twitch my nose like Samantha out of 'Bewitched.'

At his puzzled expression, I whispered, “Magic.”

For the Ellyll, Elves, family and politics are all the same.” He replied nodding about my pictures.

I placed a finger on his lips to keep him from saying more. “Then I trust that once you are able to tell me, I will get the full story. You have my full permission to broker my drawings as needed to resolve this situation.”

Despite my peeve about his secrecy, I found myself snuggling next to him as the swing squeaked as it went forward and then backwards. There was this weird absence of discomfort not quite pain feeling as I was able to put just where I was out of my mind and just be me. That wasn't easy since the things that made me John, nudged and well, poked, reminding me that Sioned was really a world away.

Shut up I told them. I'm a morwyn enjoying the time with my dyn after a long absence.

Owen stared down at me. “You really are my treasure, you know that?”

Continuing to ignore those little clues that told me otherwise, I let myself fall into his eyes. “You had better believe it.”

For a long timeless moment we simply swung there on my friends’ back-porch. Words didn't seem to be needed so we both enjoyed being with each other.

It wasn't till Kimmie and Angel came out to remind me of the time that we said anything at all. The rest of the time he was there, I couldn't stand to let him see me revealed for the fraud I felt I was. A kiss and a hug, then he was gone.

Despite my own warnings to myself, removing all signs of Sioned leaving only John behind was traumatic. I felt like part of my very identity was ripped away. Missing Owen already didn't help at all.

Leaving and going to work, I was a zombie, but pizzas were waiting and tips sucked when they were delivered cold. Burying myself in my job I tried not to think, just do.

Dear 'O'

You just left and I'm already feeling lonesome without you. Please forgive the food stains, but I had to take a moment at work to put down my feelings. I guess I really am transgendered, and it wasn't the Gate or the Wild Side that caused me to fall for you.

I told you that I thought that I'd been hiding those feelings in my art and I'm more sure of it than ever. Maybe that's why I could do that thing I'm not supposed to talk about. It's such an intimate, passionate portion of me, that it simply can't be denied. It's there for all to see, if you bother to look.

Kimmie and Angel said they would do their best to give me more time to relax and be myself. According to them, I'm like a bottle under-pressure and how I feel will get better with time. It is something to talk to Andrea about.

XXOO
'S'

PS: I think Kimmie finally remembered where she knows you from, but as per our agreement I've resisted asking her so far. Please, please, don't take too long. I need to know!

Have you ever been hit by news so startling and big your world is never the same again? It's a little like people remembering where and what they were doing when 911 went down or JFK was shot. Unlike those events, this was nothing really bad since death and destruction wasn't involved. Maybe more like when the Gates were first announced and we were introduced to our first aliens, well sorta kinda. However, I won't deny traumatic because it turned my world on end … again.

Like most people in those 'events' I was just doing the everyday things that are a part of life. That day I was at breakfast with my friends. It was a Friday morning which found only the hardcore students out and about since most arranged their classes to avoid that as much as they could, mornings and Friday.

Chuck had joined us which had become more of a common occurrence as the weeks passed since our first meeting. He really was an alright guy, but sometimes he got a little too much into that 'guy' thing. It wasn't exactly like he was forcing it, but more like the dude was simply enjoying it too damn much. Kimmie laughingly called it his testosterone high.

Even still he wasn't an ass or jerk about it which made it bearable. Really his presence, like that Angel and Kimmie's, helped me get over my mini-melt down and depression. Instead of macho he was more like the wise-cracking tough guys from the old movies. No surprise I guess since Humphrey Bogart and crew is so popular on the Wild Side. Not the worst role-model I guess.

Everything was really pretty normal Friday morning. I had an early Art class which was always a challenge trying to be creative when you're still half asleep. Chuck was watching the morning news on one of the large TV's set in the corner while half-listening to Angel and Kimmie chat. Me, I was inhaling coffee after a late night of pizza delivery frenzy.

“Wow,” Chuck exclaimed. “Look at that.”

Still faithfully worshiping my brew, I selfishly decided that whatever it was could wait, I was wrong.

My eyes popped open as I heard Angel's sudden inhaling hiss of surprise and Kimmie's “Uh oh!”

Speaking of which, I did confront Kimmie about Owen, but she managed to weasel out of telling me if she knew anything. Once again I was reminded she really wasn't an airhead.

“Hey, John.” Angel innocently asked. “Isn't that one of your pictures Owen said he was taking to auction for you?”

Looking up at the screen there was in living color was my charcoal sketch of my dyn. Still in its ornate frame it sat on an easel being bid on.

In a kind of shock I only half noticed it was one of the big auction houses like Sotheby's or Christie's. You have to excuse me since my brains really wasn't tracking that well.

It was the final bid that had me spitting coffee all over Chuck.

Forty-nine and some change million pounds!

Choking, Kimmie and Angel were trying to help me breathe.

Chuck simply sat there soaking in coffee, speechless.

Eyes watering, I finally started breathing again. Afraid we'd caused a scene, I futility looked about us, but this early in the morning the few that had noticed, moved away probably thinking I'd thrown up from a hang-over instead of surprise.

Noticing our poor friend I'd spewed caffeine all over. “I'm sorry Chuck!”

Kimmie and Angel observing another emergency passed him a handful of napkins.

He however simply calmly turned to me. “You drew that?” he asked in a too normal voice. “That is a very rare picture of the Lost Prince.”

“Yes, but please keep it to yourself. I'm not supposed to tell.” I whispered to him since the cat was out of the bag. In a classic double take, it hit me. “Prince, Lost?” I asked numbly.

“You're the aristocrat Femme Fatale Pointy-Ear that's out to corrupt him?” He blinked from the emotional overload.

“Femme, lost, fatale, prince, what?” I asked very, very confused.

He began to laugh.

To be continued in 'The Wild Side: Summer Vacation.'