Status: Active, I swear!

Little Red Cinderella and the Three Beanstalks

A Grimm Feeling

He told me about the halfway house, where he had met the innkeeper and her husband, where they had told him the story of their love, and he had told them the story of his loss. And he told me that story too, about the horrible way his family had died, the way everyone he had known turned against him, the way he had gotten his revenge, and how it hadn’t made anything better. How when he looked at me, and when he felt the feelings that he did, all he had been able to think about way his dead mother and father and sister, and the face of the man he had killed. How he hadn’t been able to protect anyone, how he had only made it so much worse, and how someone like him didn’t deserve someone like me, who was always so determined to do the right thing. He told me how they had talked sense into him, and that if I thought I could ever have feelings for someone who was so fundamentally broken, then here he was—but no matter what, he’d always be at my side now, he was never going to abandon me again.

While he talked—rambled, really, I looked at him, soaking up every inch of him as if he might disappear again at any minute and I had to get my fill now. He looked awful, just awful. He was so thin, thinner than I remembered. Had I forgotten what he looked like, or had he lost that much weight in the days since we’d last seen each other? His eyes were red and ringed with purple shadows, as if he hadn’t slept at all. His hands were shaking slightly too, I couldn’t help but notice. He looked as if a stiff wind might knock him over, if he didn’t pass out first.

He finally petered out, his voice sort of fading away while he stared down as his hands, which now sat limply in his lap. I’d never seen him look like that before, so… sad, and vulnerable, and humiliated.

“Ezu,” I said, waiting until he looked right at me. “I love you, too.” And I kissed him again, and this time it was tentative and shy, and I held his hands tightly to keep them from trembling.

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“A dragon? You fought an actual, literal dragon?”

I left of the “for me” I was mentally adding to the end of that sentence, because technically Ezu hadn’t fought a dragon for me, like a knight doing battle with a dragon guarding the tower door; the dragon had just appeared while he was on his way back to me and a fight couldn’t be avoided, having nothing to do with me whatsoever.

Still, in my private thoughts, I added the “for me” to the end anyway.

“Yeah,” Ezu said, too focused on shoveling as much food as he possibly could into his mouth to think about looking cool while he made such a wild revelation. “Not a terribly big one, but any dragon is a hell of a lot bigger than me, so at the time, I was pretty sure it was the end of the road for me. I was really lucky that I hadn’t blundered into its territory. A dragon out on the hunt is a lot less likely to be willing to continue a fight once it’s been wounded—they are actually fairly cowardly, when it comes down to it—than a dragon in its own territory. If I’d wandered into its nest, it would have fought to the death. My death, that is.”

I whistled, suddenly realizing exactly how lucky Prince Justin and I had been. “Well, I guess I owe you one for keeping it occupied,” I said, and I told him about what I had been getting up to since he had gone, about Rapunzel and meeting Justin and finding the castle full of signs that it had become a dragon’s lair.

Ezu shook his head, incredulous. “I’m starting to worry that we’re using up all of our alloted good luck, and by the time we get to that sorceress, we’ll be fresh out.”

“You’re coming with me?” I asked, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. Ezu looked a little surprised, and then sheepish.

“Yeah, of course I’m coming,” he grumbled into the loaf of bread he was devouring. “I didn’t come all the way here and fight a dragon just to say hi.”

I felt my cheeks going red, and I was glad that he wasn’t looking at me. “No, I didn’t mean—I’d just spent so long trying to face the fact that I’d have to do it alone that I hadn’t really thought… I’m happy, I mean. I’m happy you’re here, and that we’ll be together.”

“Well, it was part of the prophecy, wasn’t it?” Ezu said, still not quite looking at me. “That and your knights had to fix what was broken, had to save the princesses and defeat the Witch.”

I smiled at him, but felt a pang in my chest. Only one of my knights had returned. Could we do it without Jack? I had taken care of Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty on my own, but what lay ahead of me now was the big one. Maybe, if it wasn’t all three of us together, it wouldn’t be enough.

Well. There was no point in worrying about it now, I supposed. Returning to his village to bring him back, and then doubling back here would take weeks. By then, it would be too late.

“So what’s the plan?” Ezu asked me, finishing off the bread and grabbing an apple.

“We’ll be in the Grimm Woods in three days, with our horses. We have more than enough supplies to get there, and just enough for the way back.” I patted the supply pack next to me, more grateful than ever for Justin’s help.

“And then?”

“Aaaand then…” I trailed off. My original plan had been to wander around the Grimm Woods until I stumbled into the Sorceress’s tower, or into someone who could point me in the right direction. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was worked pretty well for me so far. Ezu, however, was looking at me skeptically. “Well, nobody alive today actually knows where her tower is,” I said hotly. “It’s not like it’s marked with a big red X on my map.”

Ezu shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out. We always do.” He finished the apple with four more huge bites and tossed the core into the bushes. He rubbed the juice off his hands on his pants and stood up, looking at tad bit better than he had right when had reappeared, but still not in terribly great condition.

Here I was, well fed and well rested, freshly bathed with my hair brushed for once; and there was Ezu, skinny and pale with bags under his eyes and swaying ever so slightly where he stood.

“Let’s get going, we’ve probably wasted too much at it is.”

“Don’t you think maybe we should camp here for the night?” I suggested, trying not to sound like I was worried about him, which I knew would not go over terribly well.

“It’s still early afternoon,” Ezu replied, frowning. “We’ve got hours of daylight left, stopping now would add a half a day to the trip.”

“I know, but…” There was no excuse I could think of that he would believe. “Honestly, you look terrible. I don’t want you to push yourself too much. It won’t matter how soon we get to the Grimm Woods if you’re in no state to even stand by the time we get there.”

“I’m fine,” Ezu said, his chest swelling with wounded pride.

“Really?” I just looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he deflated a little bit.

“Okay, I am a little tired, but I’ve been riding near day and night nonstop so I could find you. Of course I’m a little tired. And saddle sore.” He winced, and I winced too in sympathy. “But I can keep riding for a few more hours. We’ll get plenty of sleep tonight, and tomorrow night, and the night after. I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

I heaved a sigh, but even though I really thought Ezu should take it easy for at least a little while, I was also loathe to lose any more hours of daylight.

“Alright,” I conceded. “But the moment you feel like you want to take a break or stop for the night, tell me, okay?”

Ezu agreed, though I suspected that he wouldn’t say anything even if he thought he was about to fall right off his horse. I made a mental note to insist on stopping for the night a few hours before sunset, with the excuse that we would need to set up a proper camp before it got dark.

We distributed the supplies between both our horses, and I started to mount Storm Cloud. Ezu stopped me before I pulled myself up though, and pulled me in for another long kiss.

When we pulled apart, everything was spinning slightly, and a I realized I had forgotten to breath the moment his lips touched mine.

“Sorry,” he said huskily, “Now that it’s okay to do that, it’s hard not to.”

I nodded, and cleared my throat. “Yeah, yeah. Ahem. Let’s head out, then.”

Ezu’s horse had been run as ragged as himself during the past several days, so we took it slow so as not to push it too hard. We covered less ground together than I would have been able to if I was on my own, but that wasn’t a drawback at all in my mind. The woods were still as dark and cold as ever, but the foliage somehow seemed a little brighter, the early autumn air a little sweeter, as I laughed with Ezu after telling him all about how Little Red had reappeared and read me the riot act while I was trapped a tower.

We built our camp along the edge of a small stream, allowing our horses to drink long and deep while we refilled out own water skeins. There were still a few wild blackberries on the bushes by the water’s edge and I sent Ezu to gather some while I pitched the tent.

That turned out to be a terrible idea. It turned out that I had no idea how to pitch an old fashioned, boyscout style four-sticks-and-a-rope-with-a-tarp-on-top tent, and it was still lying in the dirt in a heap when Ezu returned, covered head to toe in vicious looking scrapes and scratches with a handful of slightly blood stained blackberries.

“What happened” we both said at the same time.

I admitted I had sent him off to hunt for blackberries so that he wouldn’t insist on setting up the tent himself, possibly wearing himself out even further. He unwillingly admitted that he had stumbled on a loose stone on the bank of the stream and fallen into the blackberry bushes.

We traded, and Ezu had the tent up by the time I returned. I also returned covered in about a thousand painful little scratches, having tripped and fallen over the same rock that Ezu had. He laughed until he cried, despite the fact that unlike him, I had actually returned with more than half a dozen blackberries.

It was warm in the tent that night, with my head resting on Ezu’s chest and his arms wrapped around my shoulders. It was a little weird, we’d spent so long trying to avoid so much as brushing against each other accidentally, but I’d never slept better in my life.

Ezu, on the other hand, woke up with a stiff shoulder and an arm that was numb until lunchtime from where I’d been laying on him all night.

The next night we just laid facing each other on our sides, talking late into the night. I could feel his breath on my forehead as he talked, his lips occasionally pressing against my hairline for a kiss as he told me more about his childhood, his family, how his life had changed after losing them, and how it had changed again after finding me.

Based on my map, we knew we were close to the Grimm Woods by nightfall the day after, but we had to make camp for one last night rather than pressing one. I listened to Ezu snoring gently beside me while I stared up into almost pitch blackness, unable to sleep until late into the night.

We reached the Grimm Woods early the next morning. The change was immediately obvious. It was as if someone had drawn a line in the dirt separating the two forests, the distinction was that sudden and distinct. Behind us, the trees were large and old and dark, filled with crows and huge owls that screeched in the night, accompanied by the strangely human-like cries of foxes. Hardly any light filtered down through the dense, dark green foliage above our heads.
Ahead of us, it was as if someone had suddenly started filming the world in black and white. Actually, scratch that, it was as if Tim Burton had suddenly taken over directing reality. The grey trees looked as if they were waiting for our backs to turn before they came to life to grab us, and the grey leaves overhead looked diseased. Ravens replaced the crows, and they followed us as we entered the Grimm Woods, and I swear I heard ominous words in their rasping cries.

It was difficult to persuade Ezu’s horse to cross into the Grimm Woods, and even Storm Cloud hesitated with a nervous whinny.

“This forest is well named,” Ezu said to me with slightly forced joviality, and his voice sounded strangely muffled, even though I was right beside him.

We didn’t have much of an idea of where we were headed, but as we pushed ahead, it seemed almost as though a path was opening through the forest as we went, narrow and twisting like an animal’s track, leading us ever deeper into the woods.

It started to drizzle by mid afternoon, and despite the fact that the rain was light and we were under the relative shelter of the trees, we still somehow ended up soaked through within a few minutes. We continued despite the weather for another hour and a half, determined not to let a little rain stop us, but eventually we were so cold and wet that we couldn’t stand it any longer. We stopped in the shadow of a huge, looming oak tree and quickly put up our tent, turning the floor of fallen pine needles and dead oak leaves so that the driest leaves were on top before we laid out one of the extra horse blankets to lay on. We crouched together inside the tent, listening to the drip, drip of slightly apathetic rain drops pattering against the sides of the tarp. I inspected the cloth, hoping that it was waterproof enough to keep us dry all night, and then turned back to Ezu.

He had stripped his wet shirt off, his too-long hair dripping onto his bare shoulders. His hands moved down to his pants, and I felt my face go so red that I wouldn’t have been surprised if steam had started coming out my ears.

“What are you doing?” I asked, a little too loudly. He looked up at me innocently.

“Changing my clothes. We should really put on something dry, it’ll get much colder once the sun goes down as we don’t want to risk spending the night in wet clothes.”

I had seen Ezu wearing nothing but his 17th century style underwear before, but that was long before I had come to terms with my feelings for him. And he had certainly never seen me in my distinctly less modest 21st century underwear, and I didn’t feel prepared for right now to be the first time.

I jumped to my feet, and almost knocked our tent down with my head.

“Um, okay. You do that, and I’ll um, I’ll head back to that pond we saw on our way here and see if the water is any good for drinking, or if there’s… fish in it, or something.”

“Be careful, Rikki,” Ezu called after me as I hurried away back into the drizzling rain, raindrops practically steaming away as they landed on my hot cheeks.

The pool wasn’t too far from where we had ended up making camp. We had seen it from the strange little path we were following, and I had marked it on the map, just in case. I doubled back the way we had come, peering through the tree trunks for the familiar glint of water. It took me much longer to get to it on foot than it had on horseback, and after a while I began to worry that perhaps I had already passed it and missed it.

But then, there it was through the trees, a pond surrounded by tall reeds and strange, colorless clumps of flowers. I broke a sizeable tree branch on one of the trees by the path, so that the limb was bent down at a 90 degree angle, an easy to see mark of where the path had been, just in case I got turned around once I left it.

Then I pushed through the underbrush towards the pond, feeling my boots sinking low in the soft mud as I drew nearer to its bank.

It was larger than I had realized. From the path it had looked like only a pond, but now that I stood beside it I could see that while it definitely couldn’t be called a “lake”, calling it a “pond” didn’t really do it justice either.

I had expected to find a stream, or some kind of running body of water leading into the pool, but to my surprise there was none. I looked around the edge without wandering too far, but as far as I could see, it was just an isolated, standing body of water.

That didn’t make any sense. This was the first time it had rained in a long while, unless the Grimm Woods somehow had its own weather system in which it rained enough during the summer to keep a pond of this size constantly full of nothing but rainwater.

Maybe it was kept full by some underground stream?

I moved closer to the water’s edge and knelt down, the toes of my boots sinking just enough in the silty mud so that the pond water crept up to kiss my soles. The surface of the water was usually still despite the drizzle, each raindrop only seeming to make the smallest ripple possible, as if afraid to disturb the water.

It was clear too, much clearer than a rainwater pond would be, which made me think there really must be some underground reservoir of water that created the pool. I could deep down into the water despite how little light there was at this time of day, but I couldn’t see the bottom. It must have been very, very deep, for though I thought I saw movement far, far down—fish?—the water quickly became too dark to be sure.

It certainly seemed clean though, and I figured we could always boil the water over a fire to be sure before drinking it if we had to.

If we had to. I wondered why I had thought of it that way. So far, we had relied exclusively on any bodies of water we had come across for drinking, so that we could save as much from our skeins as possible, in case we ended up without any sources of fresh water in the future. But somehow, the thought of drinking this water, from this pool, made me feel… wrong? A little ill?

Frightened.

I stood up quickly. The longer I looked into the depths of the pond, the less I liked it. A uncomfortable feeling was creeping up in me, the same kind of feeling you get when you turn out the lights and run up the stairs as fast as you can, your back prickling all the while.

Embarrassed or not, I wished I had stayed in the tent with Ezu. I turned my back on the pool, searching for the broken branch that would guide me back to the path.

Without warning, something reached up out of the water and grabbed my by my ankle, something cold and wet and slimy. It yanked me down and I screamed as I fell, my cry cut short as my chest hit the ground hard and the wind was knocked out of me. I began kicking madly with my free foot at whatever had hold of me as I twisted around, trying to get a look.

It was a pale, grey arm rising from the surface of the pool, webbed hands with cracked, claw-like nails gripping my ankle so tightly that I was afraid my leg might break. I kicked at the hand hard, aiming for the thumb so as to loosen its grasp, but a second later another arm reached out to my free leg, and then another, and another, and another. A half a dozen arms clutched at my legs, dragging me slowly into the water no matter how much I kicked and struggled.

I finally caught my breath, found my voice, and I screamed; not words, just a blind cry for help. One of the things broke the surface of the pool with the effort of dragging me in, and I saw a head with long black hair matted like river weed clinging wetly to a wide, flat face. Bulbous black eyes glistened, as emotionless as fish eyes, and a lipless slit of a mouth barred needle-like teeth at me. I started to scream again, but only managed a short, sharp cry before another firm pull from the things dragged me into, and then beneath the water.
♠ ♠ ♠
Soooooorry!
Sorry sorry sorry!

Life happened, I got bored and distracted, but I'm back!
I'm just the worst, I know.

So... writing kissy kissy scenes is weird for me. It's funny because I lot to read crap like that, but writing it makes me so embarrassed.

Anyways.

So I've been writing a lot of short stories lately, trying to get some published in a magazine.
It has NOT been going well. I've received just... no many rejections.
However, I'm not too discouraged yet, because I can understand why I've been rejected so far. One story is a holiday story, those rarely get into magazines. Another I wrote for a college class, so it's a little... I don't know, weird genre wise. Another is pretty darn good, but really long, and it drags in places. Another is well written in the beginning, but declines in quality and ends with kind of a giant cliche, stupid ending, because I didn't know where else to go with it. Another is okay, written fine I guess, but pretty... average. Nothing spectacular, just kind of dull, honestly. Another is hilarious, but I might be the only person who thinks so.

I'm not great at short stories honestly, but you really need at least one prior publication under your belt to give you an edge when trying to get a novel published. And my novel is so mediocre, I need all the help I can get.

Well, I'm still trying! I won't give up! I'll get SOMETHING published SOMEDAY.

Okay, I've started the next chapter, I should go back and get at least a little more of it written before I go to bed for the night, so I'll take my leave now.
Thank ya'll oh so much for being so very loyal. FullMoon2012, thank you for your barrage of comments, I used them as motivation, and yeah, Japan was awesome. Just so much fun, I can't wait to go back someday. Specifically, to Disney Sea. It was just so awesome. I had these little matcha cranberry pastries at one of the hotels for breakfast, and I still dream about them, they were so delicious.

Okay, okay. Good night all, until next chapter. Much love,

~The Writer