Willow and the Beast

The slender girl tripped and stumbled through the thick woods, gnarled roots catching her feet as her skirts slapped at the tree trunks. She ran, looking back over her shoulder, arms outstretched. Her breathing was rough in her lungs.

The beast! It’s coming, I can feel it.

Fading sunlight left speckled patterns on the ground. Off to the side, Willow saw a darker path. Difficult to make out details past a few dozen feet, but she could hear moving water. She veered from the lit path, into the ink. Colors faded to blue in the dusk, and she felt more than found her way deeper.

The sound of water splashing over rocks became clearer, and she broke through a screen of trees to almost fall into the stream. She padded with tentative steps into the shallows. The swift current threatened to drag her off balance, but she focused and pushed forward, nearing the far bank. With each step, she feared the beast would break through the same trees behind her, roaring with bloodlust and victory. She would feel the fangs deep in her shoulder, feel her lifeblood gushing over her bodice, and down the monster’s throat. The fear left her frozen, her teeth biting her lips closed to muffle the trapped moan. She shook her head, long black hair contrasting with her fair skin as it swept over her face. With wet hands she pushed it back, then worked again toward firm ground. Not me, not ever. She reassured herself with the weight of her dagger in her skirts pocket.

After what seemed like several minutes, she emerged from the stream, soaked to the hips, her skirts heavy and sodden. Willow took stock after stepping into the safety of the trees, keeping a constant eye out, and removed her layers of skirts, keeping the knife in waistband of her knickers. She tied her stockings around her waist, and slipped her shoes back on. A thick cloud of black flies buzzed around her, dipping into the beads of moisture on her skin. She trudged onward, picking up speed as she hit hard ground again. Chilled from the cool water, she skipped into a jog to warm up, the path clearer on this side of the stream. Tonight would be the full moon, giving her plenty of light. From far off, she heard a roar and shivered. She hoped that was a roar of frustration and moved faster.

After a few miles, Willow relaxed a bit and slowed to a fast walk. She was good at running, having grown up regularly winning footraces against the boys in the burg.
She grew up confident in herself, in her quick-thinking. Her courage came naturally.
Her courage was also why the beast was after her. Curiosity will only get a girl in so much trouble, but if she has the courage to follow it the trouble piles up exponentially.

She’d heard the legend about the beast for years. Great, hairy body, red blazing eyes, and teeth and claws so long and sharp, a grown man would stand no chance against it. Savage, the animal couldn’t be reasoned with and had no mercy, only cunning. When her sister Tani challenged her to venture into the beast’s territory, she laughed off her trepidation. Sure the beast was large, but it followed he’d be slow, and lumbering. Willow would slip in and away before the beast had the chance to lift a great hairy brow. Heh. So the beast was faster than she thought. Not so bright, though, if she could out-woodsman it. She’d have a tale to tell, when she returned home. She checked the foreign surroundings, her sense of direction a bit askew.

The path widened further, and Willow noticed a small cottage several yards off. Sturdy, and surrounded by a thick stone wall, the house promised safety. As she neared, she smelled hickory smoke, and roasting meat. Her stomach was still too jittery to accept food, but she appreciated the appeal of home and hearth. The gate was locked, so she climbed a tree abutting the stone and peered over the wall. Flowers cultivated in planned, orderly plots populated the yard along with a well, and stone paths among the thick grasses. Warm yellow light shone through the gauzy curtains, and she could see someone moving about inside. And singing. She heard a man singing as he worked in the kitchen. A deep voice belting out the chorus of an unfamiliar folk song, something about skipping to the harvest. She could see him pause and extend his arms in grand presentation as he finished. Delighted, she forgot herself and began to applaud, losing her place in the tree. Yipping with surprise, she fell to the grassy earth, hitting hard enough her left shoe flew off. She gaped at the window. His shadow stiffened and then raced outside. Willow scrambled to her feet, stooping to fish her shoe from the flowerbed, face flushed in the light.

“Ah, hello,” She raised her shoe in a brief wave. “Sorry to intrude.”

He looked her over, her tangled hair and wet drawers, and smiled. “Are you all right?” He gestured toward her. “Looks like you could use some help.”

She glared, more than a little embarrassed. “I . . . yes, I suppose I do.”

They entered the cozy house. Willow was instantly charmed by the warm colors -- woven blankets draped across the two small sofas, the walls painted a sage green, the stove and fireplace spreading a welcome heat throughout – and she relaxed.

The young man was tall, bending just a bit in the doorways, dark hair wavy but well-trimmed, garments simple, outlining his muscled shoulders and his long legs. He puttered about, preparing hot tea, presenting it with a shy smile. “Here, please sit. And I’ll bring you some proper clothes. Then, maybe you can tell me what I’m sure is an exciting story about how you ended up in my tree.”

“Sure, and you deserve at least that for your hospitality, sir. May I know your name?”

“Gedreth, miss,” and he hinted at a bow.

She grinned, extended her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Gedreth. I’m Willow.”

After they’d settled, the tea drunk, her clothes drying by the stove, Willow -- wearing an oversized shirt and breeches and wrapped in a blanket on the sofa -- told her story. Her description of the mad beast evoked the proper responses, and Gedreth never seemed to question the validity of her adventure.

"You believe me, then?"

He took a moment to answer, staring into the fire. "Yes. I can't say I have reason to doubt."

The tension tight in her gut loosened. "Thank you, Gedreth," she touched his knee with a light hand. "I believe you've saved my life tonight."

She looks a doll, he thought, gazing into her large green eyes, her porcelain skin glowing in the firelight, the shirt collar sliding over the edge of her shoulder, exposing her collar bone. He watched her mouth as she spoke, the full, expressive lips mesmerizing. After a few seconds, he noticed they'd stopped moving and he glanced into her eyes. They watched him with amusement, her eyebrows raised.

"Ehm, sorry," he fumbled. "I missed something, didn't I?"

She chuckled. "You did," her smile broadening.

Their eyes locked, bright with promise, and Gedreth's hand raised to test the feel of her hair, lingering at the tips. Soft as down. I bet she smells as sweet. They leaned closer, their breath mingled, and a rush of cool air interrupted them, breezing inside as the front door opened.

A petite figure entered. Gray hair, braided long, and simple-spun skirts and shawl. The elderly woman turned after locking up, and toddled toward the kitchen, carrying a basket full of fresh vegetables.

The couple drew apart, eyes wide. Gedreth stood, helping Willow to her feet, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “Gram, look. We have a visitor. Willow, my grandmother, Elspeth.”

“Ma’am,” Willow nodded, and curtsied as best as the blanket would allow. “You have a lovely home.”

Elspeth smiled, approaching with her hands extended, grasping both of Willow’s, her calluses and firm grip surprising the young woman. “Good to meet you, young lady. Welcome, welcome. But sure you look familiar. Have we met before?”

Willow searched her memory, of trips to town. “No, Ma’am. I don’t believe so.”

Elspeth remained standing, holding Willow’s hands hostage. Eyeing her closely. Leaning in. “But I’m certain we have. Very recently too, I’ll wager.”

Willow inched away, trying to regain ownership of her hands. “I’m sure I’ve taken advantage of your hospitality, Ma’am, Gedreth.” She pleaded. “I should be on my way home. My family…”

Elspeth released her and smiled, her many teeth a bit too pointed for comfort. “Now, Willow. Don’t take a care for your family.” Her eyes began to glow red, and she nodded toward the large stewpot. “I’ve invited them, as well.”

Willow dropped the blanket, fumbling as she stepped back toward the door. She alternated watching Gedreth and Elspeth, unsure but suddenly quite terrified.

“Willow, what’s wrong?” Gedreth approached her with slow steps. She looked into his eyes and they crinkled at the edges as he smiled, reassuring in their mundane brownness. “You can’t leave without your clothes. Just wait.”

“I…I don’t know.” She risked a glance at Elspeth. Kindly eyes a bit questioning, smile prim. Maybe she was having bad flashes. Maybe nothing. Either way, time to go. “I’ll return tomorrow for my things. Thank you again for your help, Gedreth.”

She reached the door, whipped it open, and took off into the night, feminine laughter following her from the small cottage. She raced home, barefoot, cold, wet from another dunking in the stream, not stopping until she reached the stable at the edge of her property. Just a few more steps. As she neared the house, though, she noticed the strange quiet. No fires lit, no smoke from the chimney, no familiar bickering and laughter. Worried, she ran the remaining few feet to the front door, and rushed inside.

“Ma? Da? Sis?” Nothing. Cold dark greeted her, and fear skittered up her spine. She scanned the large room, seeing nothing out of place. No sign of a struggle. A single sheet of parchment was pinned to the heavy wooden table in center room, a lone candle lit nearby. She approached slowly, as if it might lash out.

Willow,
Whenever you are ready, dear, we’ll finish the game you started today in the woods. I’m patient. You might be interested to know, however, your family may not be as happy to wait. Tomorrow is your Da in the stewpot, extra seasonings for his tougher, gamier flesh. The day after, well, I’m not sure. Shall it be your dear Ma? Or sister? I haven’t decided. Maybe you’ll have something to say about it, eh?
We’re all here, at the cottage.

Dinner’s at 7:00 pm sharp, dear. Do try to be prompt. Gedreth has such an appetite.

Elspeth

Willow slid to the floor, boneless, both hands covering her mouth. Oh, Gods, what to do? Sheer panic took her over, and she rushed about the room, gathering random objects to assist in her family's rescue. Soon, a sack containing twine, a bolt of cloth, two forks, a jar of lard, and a sprung mousetrap sat center, Willow crumpled next to it in a crying heap. By dawn she'd cried herself to sleep, head resting against the rescue supplies.

Gedreth stepped lightly onto the porch, peering around the front door, which stood ajar. The room was in chaos, contents of drawers and shelves on the floor, cabinets open and doors hanging crooked. A rather large tabby cat sat on the dining table, grooming itself with impunity. And in the middle of the room lay Willow. Still wearing his clothes and curled into a ball on the floor, she slept with tear stains on her face. He entered the house, stopping just inside the doorway.

"Willow?"

She stirred, wiping her face with her hand, tucking her hair behind her ears as she sat up. Binking, she scanned the room, bemused.

"What happened?" Then her memory returned, tears slipping from her swollen eyes. "All is lost," and she wrapped herself around her sack of folly, shoulders shaking with grief.

"Willow," Gedreth commanded. "Tell me." He crouched next to her, lifting her up to face him.

She shrieked, shoving away and scooting across the room. "No. No!" She jumped to her feet and ran for the table, where she'd left her dagger the night before. "Get away from me," she slid the dagger from its sheath and pointed it toward him. "You may have murdered my family, but you won't have me." Her eyes held the promise of mayhem, should he dare draw near.

Gedreth stood, hands lifted, movements slow. "I don't understand. Please," he held still as stone. "Willow, what happened?"

Fury erupted within the slight girl, and she growled deep in her throat as she strode to the table in a rush. The cat slunk off the far side, liquid mercury, exposing the parchment. Willow snatched it up and thrust it at Gedreth. "Tell you? Tell?"

Gedreth reached for the message, and Willow threw it at him. "You knew, and yet you allowed me to think--" she deflated, and sat in the nearest chair. "You knew, and you allowed her to do this to my family," she looked up, eyes blazing. "You're as much a monster as she."

Gedreth skimmed the note, then slowed and read again. Elspeth. He glanced at Willow, gauging her response. "I can explain," he sighed. "First, we should set your family to right."

Willow sat up, her hair hanging in tangles around her face. "What do you mean? Speak the truth, or I will cut out your tongue," she gripped the dagger.

Explain later. "Your family is alive," he looked her in the eye. "We can save them, but we must hurry."

She stared at him a moment longer, then jumped to her feet, running out the door and around to the back of the house. Gedreth heard a thump, some cursing, a series of metal clanks, and then muttering. He took a step toward the door, then stopped, unsure. Took another, and then Willow rushed back through, carrying a shotgun and wearing a grim smile.

"If I'm going after Elspeth, I'm damn well going prepared."

# # #

They crept up to the cottage, keeping to the trees and brush for cover. They suffered no illusions about Elspeth's ability to sense them, but hoped she either wasn't home or wouldn't be able to pinpoint their location right off. Around the side of the house stood a cellar entrance. The doors were closed. Willow raced up, losing patience after they observed no sign of the beast lurking about, but struggled against the doors. She couldn't open them. She glanced over her shoulder at Gedreth, shaking her head, and he nodded. He stood and walked to her, scanning the surrounding foliage.

"Elspeth's left, and charmed the entrances to keep you out," he spanned his hand over the wooden seam of the door. He smiled. "But not me." He closed his eyes, stilled, and a slight glow emanated from his hand. The golden glow increased, joined by an amber answer from the door. Willow felt a low throb in her temples as Gedreth pressed closer to the wood, a bead of perspiration trickling down his neck. The glows turned to burns, a column of smoke rising from the iron keyhole, and Gedreth grunted, then stepped back. "Try it now," he shook his hand, looking at the charring around the door handle.

Willow gripped the warm metal loop, wary of the smoke leaking from behind the wood, and lifted. No resistance. She whipped around and threw herself against Gedreth, hugging him fiercely, before opening the door and stepping down into the cellar. He grinned, blowing lightly on his reddened fingers. He followed.

The stench of unwashed animal hit them as they paused to let their eyes adjust to the dim light, and Willow realized Elspeth had held others here before. The passage narrowed, wide enough only for one. She glanced over her shoulder at Gedreth. She halted midstep, short enough Gedreth stumbled against her in the gloom, and turned.

"You need to enter first," her tone flat.

He pressed his lips together, a thin line, and nodded. He moved ahead, and stepped into the main room. Built for supply storage, the earthen room had been redesigned as a prison. Iron bars embedded in the hard-packed ground and wooden beam ceiling spanned the room, dividing it into thirds. The air was still, suffocating. Straw covered the floor, and each cell contained a bucket in one corner.

Her family huddled against each other, her father alone in one cell but reaching through the bars to hold her mother and Tani. They looked up at Willow's and Gedreth's entrance, but without hope.

"Da! Ma!" Willow raced to the nearest space between bars and clasped hands with her parents, pulling them close to kiss their faces as best she could. Her sister lingered in the background, tears in her eyes. "Tani?" Willow teared up, watching her. "Let's go. All of us, and quickly."

"Don't think we're unappreciative, daughter. For we are," her Da held his palm to the side of her face. "But we've been wanting to go for hours, and haven't found a way."

Gedreth moved closer, and the family discovered him. He was met with a chorus of gasps. "Him! Willow, move away! He's-"

"Please," she raised her hand. "Trust me, if not Gedreth. We may be short of time."

Just then, the cellar door behind them slammed closed. Gedreth acted with quick movements and fierce concentration, breaking the charm on the cell gate, and reached into the cell to grasp Willow's parents by the arms. "I'll take care of Elspeth. Wait five minutes, then go. Take Willow with you." His hands left black smears on their sleeves as he slipped back into the dark, moving back toward the cellar entrance.

As he glided, smooth as smoke, he shifted. His step became predatory, eyes blazing molten red, claws and teeth lengthening to razor points. He savored the thought of sinking them into flesh, revelling in the deep flow and rich scent of blood spilling into his fur, his throat. He moved faster, eager for battle.

He sensed her, still in mortal form, edging her way down the narrow passage. He also sensed fear, and chuckled. "Gran," his voice was gravel.

She froze, basket gripped in both hands, and terror spilled from her pores with an electric chill. "Ged?"

"You've broken the Law. You know the punishment."

A long pause. "I won't give you the satisfaction, pup. You think you're prepared to Judge?" Her voice became animal, bees thrumming in fury, and she snapped her jaws. "Try."

The two figures lunged for each other, both silent but for the solid thud of flesh meeting flesh. They struggled, evenly matched. Elspeth feinted to the side then slashed at Gedreth's thigh with her claws, but he jumped with microseconds to spare, countering with a swift bite at Elspeth's face. She drew back, a bit more wary. Neither had drawn blood, but the first who did would likely be the victor.

Gedreth became urgent with his attacks, rushing for fear his five minutes would elapse. He couldn't fight Elspeth and protect Willow's family. He couldn't let Elspeth escape. This ended here and now.

Growling, the two beasts circled each other in the close space. Gedreth worked Elspeth until she faced the cellar entrance, her back to the cages. He'd run out of time. Now. He lunged once more, striking low and fast, aiming for her midsection. From the darkness, a blast shattered the darkness, thunder blazing down the passage along with Willow's war cry. Elspeth had braced for Gedreth's impact, confident, but jolted at the explosion behind her. She shuddered at the agony of claws and fangs ripping into her bowels, and the knowledge she'd been bested by a pup. And his mortal girlfriend. She sank to the dirt floor, her blood soaking into the loam. Her eyes closed, and she shifted to human form as the last breath left her body. She was immortal no more.

Gedreth stood, his muzzle smeared with gore, eyes blazing, chest heaving. Willow aimed the shotgun at him, pressure increasing on the trigger.

# # #

The harvest was over, and Willow sank into bed with the satisfaction of having finished the season well. She and her Ma would begin organizing the pantry for winter, and Da would take the excess to market. Life was good. And yet.

"You thinking about him?" Tani nudged her shoulder.

"Go to sleep, feck."

Tani giggled and rolled over. "I knew you were," she sighed. "You should do something about it, you know."

"Shut it, feck."

# # #

The next week, Willow's errands took her to the stream. Or so she told herself. The afternoon sun warmed her through, and she slipped out of her shoes to splash a bit in the clear water. She heard a rustle in the brush and looked up, eyes scanning the banks, hands still gripping the edges of her skirt. Her heart jumped when he emerged. Eyes serious, wide mouth quirked, he stood and stared. She knew she'd have to go to him. He wouldn't press, not after their last meeting. But he didn't leave, either. They'd cleared the air, both of them. Gedreth explained his clan, their history, their rules, and Willow listened. She said nothing. How much of him was wolf, how much human? She held him close, her tears wet on his cheek, before stepping away and back to her life.

She sighed, and focused on slowing her racing pulse as she took measured steps toward his side of the water.

He stood where he had, saying nothing, eyes taking her in. They seemed huge, his brown eyes. And his eyelashes, were they that long before? She harrumphed.

"Look, nothing has changed. I'm still me, and you're still," she looked away. "You."

He plucked at a leaf he'd found on his walk, watching her. "Truth, Willow. Something's changed. You're standing before me, and that hasn't happened for months."

"Truth? Okay. Truth," she took a step, turned away, then turned back, returned his gaze, hers bright with anger. "How do I know you won't eat my family? Or anyone else?"

His jaw set as he bit back a remark about stringy farmers, but then he sat down on the muddy bank, rested his elbows on his knees, and hung his head. He shuddered, quaking in the cool wet. Willow bent over, hands on her hips, trying to see around his hair. What...was he crying?

He whooped, head lifting as he drew in air. Face red from laughing, he thumped the earth with his hands then grabbed his belly and began rolling back and forth, spreading mud everywhere. When it splashed onto Willow's skirt, she gave in and dropped to her knees, exasperated.

"Stop it!" She began to giggle, not seeing the humor at all. "Stop laughing. I would be extremely upset should you eat my family. I'm serious!" She pounded him on the shoulder.

He sat up, still chuckling, and wiped his hands on his shirtfront. "Gods, Willow. Don't you know?" He shifted to face her, eyes solemn once again. "You, with your fire, your courage. You," he lifted her chin with his fingers. "have tamed me."

She goggled at him, her lips parted. Then the corners of her mouth lifted in a slow smile, and her eyes shone. "Show me."

He leaned close, tasting her lips with a ginger sweep of his own. Willow sighed, eyes closing. She took his hand, pulled him back in for a deeper kiss, and for a time they both forgot about the beast.