Falling Into the Woods Ch. 01-02

Quickly she was up on her feet, running into the woods and propelling herself forward. Unknowingly she clenched her purse to her chest; an unnatural warmth flowed from the stitched material; it went unnoticed as the need to flee consumed her.

Falls raced through the backyard, darting into the thick woods. Sounds of Darrel crashing through branches and twigs drove her onward. She stumbled, rolled head over heels and tucked her purse into her gut. When she was able, she scrambled to her feet, ran with one outstretched arm and did her best to push various limbs out of her way.

It wasn't until her sides ached that she stopped. Large gulps of air filled her lungs as she tried to listen for Darrel. A sense of disbelief settled over her shoulders as she realized she was free of him. The events of the night came crashing down on her, forcing her to her knees. She sat there, her arms wrapped around herself. Tears fell rapidly as her body shook with pain and anguish.

Over time Falls had no more tears to shed. She leaned against a tree and wiped at her face. A sliver of moonlight found its way through the thick forest and Falls used it to rifle through her purse. She eventually found a small lighter that she often carried with her. She used it to light the candles that littered her room and drove out the smell of booze and other various odors that often floated about the house when Darrel and his friends would party.

She flicked it. The flame came to life; she held it up, and went back to rifling through her purse. Her hands felt the box and she remembered the small red candle. A sigh of relief left her parted lips as she released the hold on the lighter, tucked it into her jeans pocket and pulled out the box.

Again the moonlight seemed to hover over just the right spot and Falls was able to open the lid and retrieve the candle. She brought it up to her nose, breathed in the aroma that was growing familiar to her and then brought out the silk bag.

She cleared a small patch of ground, dumped the sand onto to it, formed a small pit for the candle and then wedged it into the gritty hole. Her fingers sought the lighter from her pocket; soon there was a warm glow surrounding a small place in the forest.

Falls sat there staring at the flame and trying to push away the horror that she'd lived through. She swallowed the lump in her throat and went back to digging in her purse. She found some gum, a candy bar and her cell phone. Her lips rose in a smile as she pulled it out and pressed the button. A growl of displeasure left her lips followed by a muttered, "Typical." It was no surprise to her that there was no signal this deep into the woods.

Once her phone was returned to her purse, Falls pulled the candy bar out, peeled the wrapper away and bit into the soft creamy confection. She chewed slowly, enjoying the sweet treat as it slid across her tongue. Her gaze flickered to the flame.

Minutes passed as she tried to focus on anything but the circumstances she was presently in. Her thoughts drifted to her friends and she wondered if Becky and Robin's parents would mind if she moved in for a few weeks. She had money in a savings account at the bank and though it would be hard, she could make it till the fall, when college started.

She laughed as she thought of attending the same school her Dad had attended. She'd wanted to live on campus, but couldn't afford it. Now she wondered if she shouldn't reconsider her options. Perhaps even put off attending the University entirely.

The night moved slowly and Falls found herself growing tired. She pushed several broken branches, twigs and leaves away, clearing a place large enough for her to lay down. She was thankful for the warm night, ever mindful of the winters in Connecticut.

Her purse soon became her pillow and after finding a semi-comfortable position on the forest floor, her gaze settled back on the flickering candle and it's bright light. She stared into it, watching the wick burn and the wax slide down the small round sides. Thoughts of her father returned to her. She rolled to her back and recalled the last time she'd slept in the woods at night.

Her father had taken her and her mother camping in the backyard. She'd been five, her parents very much in love and protective of her. Falls remembered how she'd woken up in the night, having to pee, but didn't want to wake her parents. She slipped from the tent; using the light from the porch, she tried to make her way back into the house. A noise coming from the woods frightened her; she screamed and ran in what ever direction her mind allowed.

Later, she'd been convinced by her Father that it was just a raccoon and not some hideous beast coming to eat her. He'd found her deep in the woods, covered with dirt, scratched by thorns and shivering violently. The look of fear on his face was still strong in Falls mind as was the relief in her own when the flashlight he'd carried shown down on her. Her mother was there too and she felt love flow over her. Falls eyes closed; warm tears eased themselves from her lids.

It had been two months later that the police had come to their door. Her mother had collapsed on the ground; Falls hadn't understood until later, when her grandparents arrived. They told her that her father had been killed in a car accident. Rebecca Britain never recovered from the loss. Her parents passed away shortly after and her In-laws, having never approved of their son's wife had nothing to do with her or their granddaughter.

In time Falls body and mind succumbed to the sleep that her memories had denied her. As she slept, her father again returned. He lead her down a path in the woods, emerging into their well-manicured lawn. The house where she grew up was there as it had been the night of the camp out. Her mother was there, arms open wide; her face shone with a smile that spoke of love. The dream shifted just as Falls became wrapped in her mother's embrace.

The Old Mill of Weston appeared. A gypsy offered a box to a much older Falls. She took it, spun on her heels and ran as the sound of the river roared in her ears. A man stared at her from atop a great horse. In his hand he held a sword of great beauty. It dripped blood. Falls screamed. She ran as fast as she could, but the man on the stallion came after her. She fell, just as the blade sliced the air.

Falls jerked awake. Her hands flew to her chest. She drew in several gasping breathes as the dream began to slowly fade away. She shook, looked around and saw nothing but trees surrounding her. A breeze swept by, chilling her and she cursed at the unsuspected cold front that had obviously moved in.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Falls leaned against a nearby tree and looked at where the candle had burnt the night before. It was long gone, the wax nothing more than a disk that had blended into the sand.

Falls picked up the waxy object; her brow furrowed as she studied it. The sand too was gone; upon closer inspection and with the light of the sun sparkling through the trees, she was able to see it had not been sand at all, but grains of silver. The disk still felt like wax, but instead of being a solid color it was dusted with specks of the silvery grains. Shrugging her shoulders, she rose, tucked the oddity into her pocket and gathered up her purse.

Once more she dug through the sparse contents, extracted a stick of gum, popped it into her mouth and pressed the button on her phone. It came to life, but again no signal showed its presence. "Damn," she muttered and tossed it back into her purse. Falls looked around, picked a direction to walk and began to make her way through the woods.

She wasn't quite sure how long she walked before the first sliver of fear crept inside her normally calm self. She figured an hour, maybe two had passed and yet she was still in the woods. Several times she'd stumbled and cursed as branches and twigs swept her face and arms. Her jeans kept her legs protected, but the spaghetti strapped shirt she wore, offered no protection from the forces of nature.

The wind picked up. Falls cursed her luck. "Snow in July?" She couldn't believe she had seen the flake fall, but had to admit it was happening when another dropped, followed by another, and another. Falls rubbed her arms furiously, quickened her steps as panic slowly began to override her fear.

She was lost. She admitted it to herself and if anyone was with her, she'd admit it to them. She grew more frustrated with every step. Why hadn't she gone back into the woods after her father's death? She suddenly wondered. If she had she would have known the paths and trails, but there were none here for her to follow. Just as she had that thought, one seemed to appear. A moan of relief left her parted lips and she quickly began jogging down the trail.

More snow fell, landing on Falls face. She tried to lick them, taste the wet drops of snow as she ran. She pushed her hair from her eyes, noted the dampness and slowed down. There was no need to break a sweat during the middle of an unexpected snow storm. She knew she needed to find shelter. Pausing she again pulled her cell phone from her purse and again rewarded the air with a foul word.

The forest grew white; the wind began to howl and Falls wanted to cry. "There has to be a farm somewhere around here. This place is littered with them."

The air swallowed up her words. Still she trekked onward. She began to talk to herself, wanting to fill the silence of the forest with something other than the howling wind. "I bet I'll show up and they'll offer me hot coffee and a coat. Tell me I'm foolish and ... what the fuck is it doing snowing in July!" she shouted.

Another hour passed. Falls struggled to lift one foot and place it in front of the other. Snow had piled high, drifting over the path she'd found. She tried not to cry, fearing the tears would freeze like tiny icicles on her face. Her green eyes drank in as much terrain as they could, eventually she stopped. A cry of joy escaped her lips as she took in the site of an old shake. She hurried toward it. A new sense of power pushed through her.

When she reached the porch of the wooden structure she was shaking violently. Her hand curled into a fist and she pounded on the door. No one came to her. Again she knocked, then tried the handle. The metal gave easily, allowing the bolt to slip from its home. Falls pushed the door open, stepped inside and closed it quickly behind her.

The morning had progressed from mildly irritating to full blown annoying by the time Lucas Aquila reached the stables. His jaw ached from the pressure he'd placed on it as he stormed through the castle. His fingers were still clenched in fists; his gaze showed to all that he was not a man to be trifled with at that particular moment. The noise level in his home had escalated to a point of driving him out; the scores of females that had descended on his keep only added to the pounding pressure building between his temples.

Athela, his sister was to be married in just a few days. It seemed all of Wight had been invited to enjoy the celebration. The only thing about this particular day that made it pleasant had been the appearance of the sun. It had blessed the lands, melting away the snow that had fallen steadily for the past three days. Lucas still wondered what witch had gotten so annoyed that she'd caste the deadly storm over the lands.

The Lord of Wight rolled his shoulders, rubbed at the back of his neck and growled as he recalled how the ache he had there had been placed by his Adrian.

He'd been unceremoniously pulled from his bed by the cuff of his neck, forced to dress in expensive finery so he could kiss the hand of some Princess young enough to still be in the cradle. He cursed inwardly at the fan fair that his mother had put on for the joyous occasion of her only daughter's wedding day. The amount of food being lavished on guests were staggering, but insisting that only the best meat and wines be available for consumption would deplete their winter stores before the true heart of winter descended on them. Lucas did his duty, kissed the girls required of him, then changed into clothes he found more suitable for his day to day living.

A sound reached his ears as he made his way toward the back of the stable. He paused, strained to hear the muttering phrases. The sound of two lovers enjoying the sins of the flesh stirred his loins. A smirk rose from his lips then fell as a grunt followed by the name Bethany reached his ears. His gray eyes grew darker, the lids lowered, hooding half their deadly stare. He took a deep breath, rounded the corner and watched as his betrothed rode the cock of another.

"Now Titus. Now my love."

"Beth, oh yes my little whore." Titus pounded his cock deep into the slippery folds of Princess Bethany of Mercer. Neither heard the sound of a blade being pulled from its sheath.

Bethany's eyes were clenched; her head thrown back in passion. Her mouth open wide as sounds of pleasure left her parted lips. Just as her body began to tense, the pending release of passion readying itself to explode from her depths, Bethany opened her lids, wanting to capture the look of awe often seen on her lover's face. Her gaze made out a shadow. Her eyes darted to the owner of it and she screamed, launched herself from her lover and hurried to cover herself.

"Oh thank god you are here!" She rose from the straw-covered grown and threw herself against Lucas. "I told him you would kill him if he laid a hand on me. I fought him..." Tears welled up in her eyes and she clutched at her betrothed tunic.

Lucas gazed into the emerald eyes of the woman he'd sworn to all to wed. He wondered how he'd ever seen past her stupidity. Did she really believe he was ignorant in what had transpired. He held her for a moment, while pressing the tip of his sword against Titus's throat. The naked servant of Wight sat on his knees. Fear was evident in the trembling of his chiseled form. "Seems you've found yourself a wife," Lucas muttered through clenched teeth.

"My Lord?" Bethany whispered in a voice of confusion. She stared into his eyes, willing him to look down at her.

"It wold be wrong of me to stand in the way of love my dear. So I will step aside; you may wed the man you desire."

Titus slowly stood. The tip of the weapon remained pressed against his throat. "Lucas, I would be honored to marry Bethany. If she'll have me."

"Have you!?" You raped me! I just pray I am not with child. I will kill myself if I am!" She pivoted back to Lucas. "Please forgive me for my innocense. I trusted Titus. He came to me, told me that you were here and wished to speak with me. To gift me with a new mare. When I realized the lie, I turned to go. He pulled me into the stall... I'm sorry my love. I was weak. He forced himself upon..." She buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

Titus and Lucas both rolled their eyes. The young servant pushed at the sword. Lucas allowed it to fall away; he kept it held lazily against his side. "Beth, do not lie to him. He saw us. Heard the sounds that brought him here. Do not further embarrass yourself, or me by the words you spill."

Lucas stepped away from Bethany. His gaze was now one of curiosity. "How long have you been servicing my betrothed?" he asked his hawk trainer and long time friend. He stood there and listened as the Princess wept. She turned away, her head bowed in shame. Titus frowned, pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her. He then explained to his liege that he and the Princess had been lovers for several months.

Lucas heard the words and shook his head. He had been duped. Words of apology fell from Titus's lips. It occurred to the Lord of Wight that he was not truly upset that he was losing the beautiful woman that stood before him. He reached down and picked up her gown, tossed it to the trainer and sighed.

"She was just a girl with the arrangements were made. No time to learn the way of the world, or experience the taste of true love. It seems though that she has found it now that she has become a woman," he turned his gaze to Bethany as Titus held the dress against her, partially covering her nudity from his leader's eyes. Lucas touched Bethany's hair, stroked the long curls then pulled his hand away. "You would have made a fine wife and I would have only taken you to bed. I would not have loved you. I am incapable of such an emotion. You will be happy with Titus. He is a good provider and... well, even now he is still a trusted friend."

Lucas stepped away, sheathed his sword and crossed his arms. Beth moved to pull her dress down her supple figure. Lucas's groin stirred at the disappearing flesh that bore the marks of interrupted passion. "There will be scandal. There is no way to avoid it. You will wed the same hour as Athela and Patterson. I will pave the way with my parents and you must go to hers," addressing his words to Titus.

"Lucas." He glanced to the woman that spoke his name. "I'm sorry."

"You owe your apology to Titus. Crying rape when it is apparently not the case is a foul deed. If I had been jealous the man's life would be ended and that would be no one's fault but your own. I did not put pride above my love."

"Haven't you?" she muttered quietly.

He said nothing. It was true. He had put pride above everything. He'd taken Bethany as his betrothed, not out of love, but out of gaining the lands she would bring to him. She was the highest ranked Princess and would add generously to his coffers. He hadn't bothered to try and lover her. That was not his job. His reason for existing was to provide for his family and his people. He was to produce heirs and raise another Voltinia to rule over Wolf's Den.

I'll arrange for the vows to be exchanged when I get back from my morning ride. In the meantime, Titus, you return to your tasks. Bethany to your rooms. I'm sure your mother is missing you. You should explain to her that there will be some changes in the festivities this week. If she feels she should invite any one of import to your unexpected nuptials then she should do so now." Lucas turned away, made his way to the far end of the stable and readied his stallion for a long and much needed ride.

He ignored the sound of the lovers dressing and whispering as he led the horse from the well-constructed dwelling and out into the morning light. As he rode out of the keep his mind drifted to the empty emotions that seemed to have settled around his heart. He was not sad about the loss of Bethany, annoyed was more fitting. He would have to find another Princess, sadly ladies of her stature were hard to come by these days.

Lucas chose to not dwell on the fact he was now going to have to begin looking at other potential mates. He rode further across his lands. Minutes flying by as quickly as his stallion did. He allowed the animal to control their speed. In time they reached the top of the meadow. Both man and beast shivered slightly at the breeze that brushed against them. Lucas gazed at the edge of the forest. There was no movement that seemed foreign to him. This came as no surprise, for peace had reigned for several years on Wight and no one was in a big hurry to end it. He turned away, then stopped as a sound that did not belong reached out to him.

Lucas eased himself from Blade's back. He snickered low to the horse, dropped the reigns and felt no qualms about leaving the well-trained creature to its own devices. He moved toward where he swore the sound had come from. His boots kept the snow from invading his feet as he made his way through various sized drifts. As he came closer to the bottom of the hillside it took him a moment to register what he was seeing.