Wicked Tales: Exiled Lovers

Author Note: This is my adult version of the Fairy Tale: Hansel and Gretel. There are references to BDSM play. There is a small bit of Lesbian interaction, as well as non-consent/reluctance, as well as Brother/Sister incest. If you do not wish to read any of those things, then this story may not be for you. If you choose to read it, I do hope you enjoy it. Thanks to deathlynx for catching some errors I made, if you see more, blame me. . .not him. ~ Red

Petra stared at the way Gretel walked back and forth as she took the laundry from the line and placed it neatly folded in the basket. Her body moved with the grace that Petra's lacked. Her hair seemed to glow as the sun cast its rays on the top of her head and where Petra was once embraced in a halo of gold . . . her hair was washed out and faded with time. No longer did the wife and mother of two have her beauty; in its place, time, greed, and hate had taken its toll, leaving her desperate to recapture her youth. She knew that to do that she had to have money. Money meant everything and the hag in the woods had promised her a potion that would make her more stunning than any other, even her daughter.

Laughter interrupted Petra's thoughts and she rose up to greet her husband and her son. "Well?" Her greeting common whenever the two men returned home, after having spent the day in the mines toiling for what few coins, they could get the local Lord to pay them. Her aged and weathered hand was open, her arm outstretched and the look on her face demanding.

Hansel glanced at his sister. He had wanted to see her first before seeing their mother. Why he thought this day would be any different was lost to him. He reached into his pocket and tried to push the ribbon away as he fished out the coins. "Here, mother. It isn't much, but . . ."

"It never is," she hissed as her fingers wrapped around the coins and she dropped them into her apron. Her gaze shifted to her husband and then quickly slid back to her son's pocket. "What is that?" Her speed was quick for her age. She plucked the strip of blue ribbon that had come sneaking out when Hansel had dipped in for the coin. Petra twirled it around her finger and glared at Hansel. "Where did you get this?" Her voice seemed to grow stronger as she forced her back to become ramrod straight.

Hansel watched her shake the ribbon in his face and he reached for it, only to be stilled by his father's hand. "Petra, it is but a ribbon." Klaus answered, taking the ribbon from his wife's clenched fist and giving it back to his son. "Hansel bought it for Gretel. It was not much and it is her birthday."

He looked over to his daughter and smiled warmly, before pushing his hand into his pocket and taking the coins from their depth. He dropped them into her hand, which he still held and then wrapped her fingers around them. "I made extra, so what Hansel used does not cause anyone harm. We will eat well this month."

His green eyes were full of hope, hope that his wife would not raise a fuss over the coin, but would instead remember the joy they had experienced eighteen years ago when Gretel was born. Klaus knew though that only he had celebrated that day. Petra had never wanted either of their children and after she'd given him one of each, she refused to share his bed.

"Does us no harm?!" she screeched as she spun on her heel and walked a few feet away. Her finger lifted to her daughter and she screamed back at all of them. "Every day these THINGS eat more and more. Look at her. She is bigger than the Lord's finest beef and him," she pointed to Hansel, who was a tall and lanky man with thick blonde hair and icy blue eyes, "he is just as bad. The King's horses are not as robust as this monster."

Gretel blinked back the tears that sprang from her eyes, paler blue than her brother's. She smoothed her dress down, feeling the ribs that poked through her clothing. Her hands were clasped in front of her flat stomach, a small indent showing where the lack of food during the day had begun to take its toll. Her body had never developed fully. Her mother not allowing her to eat while the men were gone, nor was she allowed to tell her brother or her father that she had been denied the portions her mother took as her own.

Hansel felt his anger rising and only the appealing look from Gretel stopped him from shouting at his mother. He walked over and gave her the ribbon, doing his best to ignore the woman that had given birth to him. His fingers brushed against Gretel's thick yellow lashes, that were speckled with the unshed tears. "If you are as fat as the Lord's beef, then our Lord is in dire need of new pastures." His whispered words went unheard by anyone but his sister. He bent down and kissed her forehead before having her spin around, so he could tie the ribbon in her long blonde hair.

"Thank you," Gretel whispered. Her fingers toyed with the soft end of ribbon, not caring that it was frayed at the ends. "It is beautiful."

"Happy Birthday," Hansel told her, giving her a wink, which meant he had more in store for her, but she would have to wait.

"Come, Hansel; let us chop wood. Though winter is a long way off, our chores are always close by." Klaus's call pulled Hansel from Gretel's side and soon they were gone again, this time each pushing a makeshift cart into the forest, which they would fill with lumber. Gretel glanced at her mother, but said nothing as she returned to her chores.

That night Petra lay in her bed, thinking of ways to rid herself of the two diseases that she'd given birth to. She knew the Lord had tastes that bordered on sinful. Rumor said that he paid good coins for both beauty and innocence. As much as Petra hated to admit it, Gretel had both. She was thinner than the Lord may want, but Petra could fix that. A wicked smile crossed her face as she began to turn the bolts and screwed in her head and think of how Gretel could be changed into a magnificent creature that would fill Petra's coffers.

Once she dealt with the girl, she would rid herself of her son. Each day she looked at him became another where she was reminded of the folly of her youth, when she gave her body to a man, because he was as beautiful as she was and she thought it would better herself. Now that man was old, worn, and tired . . . but worse, after she married him she had been told they would leave her village and live in his cottage in the woods. She would be a wife and he would continue to mine for his Liege Lord. Petra knew deep down it was her fault she had bedded the man she had thought the magistrate's son.

There had been a village masquerade party and she had set her sights on the gentleman that paraded around as if he were the most arrogant of men, which was exactly how the magistrate's son behaved. In her lust for social status among her lowly peers she had willingly lifted her skirts and allowed the masked gentleman to have his way with her several times over the course of a few hours. When they were discovered, Klaus removed his mask and declared her his. They were wed within an hour of her parents learning of her shame and then she was shuttled off to live in a cottage that was falling to pieces before her very eyes. That first year she gave birth to a son and then Gretel.

Petra beat on her pillow, once more cursing her life, but at least this time, when she closed her eyes, she had a plan and tomorrow she would take the first steps to see it come to life.

The following morning Gretel opened her eyes to the blazing sun that beat through the worn curtains of her room. She shot out of bed, frantically grabbing her robe and pulling her hair into the ribbon her brother had given her. Her pulse raced as she imagined the beating she would receive when her mother realized she'd overslept and none of the morning wash had been done, nor had the animals been cared for. Gretel darted out of her room, then came to a halt. She took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of fresh bread and pork. Her brow furrowed as she timidly walked into the kitchen.

It was a blessing Gretel had a good constitution or she would have clutched her heart from the shock of seeing her mother, donned in an apron, bending over the oven and pulling bread from its iron home. She blinked and counted to ten, but still the image remained. "Mother." Her whisper was softer than any other word she'd ever spoken and she found her feet rooted to the floor.

Petra grinned a wicked smile that only the bread could see. She then turned and her expression softened, yet the smile remained. "Come, girl. Your brother and father will be home for lunch and you have not yet broke your fast." Petra motioned to the bowl on the table. A cloth lay over its contents, but steam still rose from behind its hidden cover. Petra watched Gretel as she cautiously walked over to the piping hot oats. It was the fifth bowl of mush she'd created, hoping that her lazy daughter would awaken with the smells of each one, but instead she tossed the cold lumps of oats out the door and forced herself to create another fresh one every half hour. "Eat up. I have the animals fed, and the cow milked, but I'll need help with the wash. I am not as young as I used to be."

Petra left the room with a piping hot pan, that Gretel could have sworn smelled like apple pie. She lifted the cloth from the bowl and gazed at the thick, creamy meal. Her fingers tenderly gripped the wooden spoon and she stirred the steamy confection of jam her mother had placed on top. Gretel feared eating it. Her mother had to have poisoned it, she told herself. What was happening? What had happened? Gretel pinched her arm and winced. Only then, did she accept she was not trapped in a dream of her starved mind's making.

"Eat up, child. We'll lose the sun at the pace you're going."

Gretel heard her mother and quickly began to eat the food before her. Her stomach cramped in the beginning, so unused to feeling anything of sustenance until almost dark. After she forced herself to slow down, her body accepted the surprising shock and allowed her to finish her mush as well as the cold milk her mother had put out before her.

Gretel's day continued to be one out of a fairy tale book. Her mother was possessed, she decided as she was pulled away from the mending to help serve a mid-afternoon meal that had been prepared for her father and brother. Just as it was finishing, Gretel felt Hansel kick her leg. The action, went unnoticed by both Klaus and Petra. Gretel glared at him, but she knew that it was his way of saying he needed to talk to her before he left. After she finished her slice of pie, Gretel moved to begin clearing off the table. Her mother however stopped her, telling her she should rest because her eyes looked tired and her cheeks sunk in.

Gretel shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes always looked tired and her cheeks had never been full of anything but the cuts and bruises that she'd endured over the years from her mother's swift hand. She eyed Hansel as she left the room, and she felt both his eyes as well as her father's on her.

It wasn't long before Hansel tapped on her bedroom door and she opened it just enough for him to slip inside. "What is going on?!" she demanded, crossing her arms and glaring back at him.

Hansel's eyes grew wide. "I don't know. She woke father this morning and told him that we were to be home this afternoon for lunch, because it was rude of him to forget your birthday."

"Rude of him?"

Hansel shook his head. "I know. We talked about it all morning. She had a meal prepared for all of us, including you. It was a fine one too, but she told father that you slept in so late, only the mush was good."

"I did sleep in. I woke up and knew she was going to beat me. Hansel . . . I am scared. There is something wrong and I do not know how to behave now. Before I could gauge her actions, sense when she was ready to strike, but this . . . this is not my mother."

"I know. Gretel, she is planning something, but I do not know yet what it is. Please be careful. Even father thinks she is up to something. He hopes to get it out of her, before whatever deed she has planned is too far gone to stop."

Hansel pulled his sister into a warm embrace. "I have to go. Please . . . please . . . PLEASE be careful." He looked down on her and stroked the ribbon in your hair. "I wish I could have given you more."

Gretel touched his hand. "It is more than I expected." She smiled softly and squeezed his hand. "I'll watch out for mother. You should too, because she has no love for either of us." She kissed his fingers and then sighed. "We have father though."

"And each other," Hansel whispered, drawing her hand up to his lips and laying a kiss on her skin. He left her then, both of them fighting feelings that each had been harboring since their youth. Gretel locked her bedroom door and climbed onto her bed, thoughts of the strange morning melted into the dreams that often kept her body aroused and sexually alert.

Hansel met his father outside the cottage. His mother stood near the well, drawing water from its deep dark pit. He could see the look of worry on the old man's face and he fought the urge to run back and take Gretel far from here. "What is it?" he asked as they walked into the forest, intent on making their way back to the mines.

"Your mother. I know what she is doing. I thought all morning while we worked, yet denied it. But now I can't deny what I believe in my heart is her wicked plan for our sweet Gretel."

"What?!" Hansel demanded, grabbing his father's arm and forcing him to stop walking the path away from the cottage. "Is she in danger? Why are we still leaving? What is she . . . "

"Wait Hansel. Listen!"

Hansel curled his fingers into fists. He stared into his father's eyes. His father was a fair sized man, thicker in girth than Hansel, but Hansel stood a few inches taller than his parent. He wanted to shake the words from the older man, but knew he could not. For all of Klaus faults, he still was a man that Hansel loved.

"I did not realize what day was approaching until earlier, while we supped. In a month, Lord Buckley will be passing through town. It is the day he collects the rents. We will not have the coin to pay him. Your mother will hoard it, like she has for years. The food we dined on this fine day was food that should have been kept in the larder for the winter. She would not have used it if she felt she had a way to replenish it."

Hansel listened, but still did not see what all of this had to do with Gretel. His impatience showed on his face as he gritted his teeth and his jaw hardened.

"We have paid our rents in the past, because I have always secreted away the coin we would need. If I pay the rents now, we will starve this winter. I don't believe that anymore. I believe we will be rich before winter comes, or at least that is your mother's hope."

"But how? We are not mining any faster, in fact we will mine less when the winter storms arrive." Hansel shook his head. "Father, tell me . . . tell me what you believe she has planned."

"Lord Buckley has been known to take a virgin in exchange for rents. The girl's family is free from paying rents for the next five years. After that time they must resume paying or give him another virgin."

Hansel's face paled and he turned to run back toward the cottage. Klaus stopped him. "No . . . you must go tonight. I will force my marital rights on Petra, keeping her from using her bed and thus her room will be empty. She will then not hear you take Gretel. You must leave here. Keep her safe and never come back."

Hansel stared at his father. "You are sure this is her plan? Can't you stop her? Demand that she change?"

Klaus heard the sorrow and despair in his son's voice. "I am her husband and she my wife. A part of me still loves the woman who was so passionate the night I claimed her. I have not been a good father. I know this. But I have tried to provide you both with a safe place to lay your head and food, though it is meager, to stall the hunger in your belly. I must ask your forgiveness and Gretel's for my weakness." Hansel could not say anything to his father as he walked away. They continued to the mines. Each lost in thought. Hansel planned his escape and Klaus felt his age seeping deeper into his bones.

Night fell and Gretel rolled comfortably in her sleep. Her hand rested on her stomach; for the first time since she could remember her belly didn't growl or seem to curl in on itself. Suddenly, she was awake. Her eyes full of fright as the moonlight cast a glow on the figure of a man in her room. She fought the hard arm that dragged her up and kicked at the strong legs. Just when she was about to bite down on the fingers that covered her screams, she heard her brother's voice. "Gretel . . . calm down."

The whisper was so soft if he had not been holding her tightly against him and his lips brushing against the curve of her ear, she never would have heard him. She sagged against him, fear no longer her enemy, but annoyance had claimed that right. She felt him release her and she spun around; her hands formed into fists that rested on her narrow hips. "What are you doing here?" she hissed, her voice much louder than his whisper had been.

"Shhh." He took her hand and pulled her over to her closet, opened it slowly, glad that she had kept the hinges oiled. "Get dressed. We leave tonight."

"Leave? Where? Why?" Gretel pulled out a thick gown and a gray cloak. She eyed her brother, then pointed to the corner. He rolled his eyes, but turned away and stared at the place she'd indicated. Moonlight spilled into the room and his eyes focused on the dark silhouette his sister's shadow created.

Hansel watched the figure, knowing each curve and wondering what they would feel like against his skin. He frowned when he made out the hard bones of her pelvis, vowing one day that all of her feminine curves would be full and lush. He noted the small roundness of her breasts, the moonlight, making the wall a beautiful canvas for his sister. When she ran her hands down the front of her dress, he could almost feel the hard tips of her nipples. A low groan fell from his lips; quickly he coughed to hide the noise, still trying to remain quite.

"I'm ready."

Hansel turned and obediently helped his sister with her gray cloak. His fingers pushed hers out of the way as he fastened the loops and the buttons. He brushed his knuckles against her chin and tipped her head up so her face was highlighted by the night's bright glow. "Trust me. I will explain everything as soon as we are far from here."

Gretel nodded her head and took her brother's hand in hers. Together they approached the door. Hansel opened it and took the first steps into the hall, gently tugging his sister behind him. Gretel walked quickly, yet taking great care not to make any unnecessary noise. They paused when they came to their father's room and Gretel's eyes grew wide as she heard her mother and father behind the closed wall. The noises were ones she had never heard before, but as she listened, she felt a warmth deep within her begin to spread. She touched her breasts and blushed as she realized that when she felt it was safe, she too made the sounds her mother was making. "Come on," Hansel hissed in her ear and pulled her along.

She hurried, pushing away the thoughts that had unexpectedly taken over her ability to move. They exited the cottage and Gretel felt a sense of relief from her brother that flowed into her. She ran with him, picking up the hem of her dress as they made for the forest. Once inside the thick foliage, Hansel slowed and then stopped all together. He lifted Gretel into the air, spun her around and then hugged her tight. "We did it!" His laughter filled the air as he spun her around again.