Till You Return
By Artichokie

The first rays of light flashed against the walls of the small village. An overcast of grey clouds added a daunting effect to the new light, but made the transition from night into day a pleasant one. The first chirps of the waking birds whistled into the rooms of every sleeping person, tickling their dreaming minds. The early risers made their first appearances in the deserted dirt streets.

It was a typical morning, peaceful and calm. Some might see this monotony as boring, but others found comfort in knowing exactly how they would greet the day each morning. The residents of this tiny village did; the treasured their peace.

But that peace was shattered this morning. Even before dawn, shouting had broken out on the street; flames had risen higher than the nearest tree of the forest surrounding the village. Residents in varying stages of dress ran throughout the street, shouting and crying out to their God for saving.

Men of all ages strived to protect the womenfolk; many died gallantly. Bodies littered the ground; some lay still and cold as the rivers in the winter while others twitched and gurgled as their wounds slowly brought them to that eternal peace on the other side of life. Woman screamed and ran blindly, falling into the dirt after tripping over an unseen body.

Down at the end of the lane, a young woman stood in front of her second-story window. Her dark-as-mud brown eyes, wide with terror, were glued to the horrific scene below. Her slender hands gripped the window seal tightly, her knuckles pressing tightly against the underside of her pale skin. All color had drained from her face; her jaw hung loosely at its hinges.

"'Wena," a shaky voice called her from behind. Rowena swiftly turned around, her mouth closing, to face her younger sister who was standing within the frame of the doorway. Like Rowena, the younger child wore nothing but a nightgown. Her black hair hung loosely about her face and was flung over one shoulder. Rowena could see the fear and pain in her eyes. "Father is dead."

The words had been whispered, but to Rowena it was as if they had been shouted. They echoed in her head, drowning out the noise outside. Her jaw clenched closed as a heavy feeling forced its way between her eyes. She was going to cry; she wanted to. But she couldn't. Not now. Not when there was so much more pain and desolation outside of her very window.

"And Mother?" Rowena said as she swallowed hard. The expression on her sister's face became more downcast, more sullen, that Rowena didn't have to ask twice. Their mother was gone; dead or alive, neither of them were sure which. Rowena's sister was too outspoken to refuse to divulge the facts, no matter how disheartening they may be. The only time she was ever silent was when she was unsure.

"We need to get out," Rowena's sister's voice interrupted her thoughts. Rowena blinked and unconsciously brought her hand to rest against the side of her face.

"And where do you suppose we go?" she asked incredulously. "We cannot flee—or have you not noticed the madness in the streets? No, Helaine, we're safer here."

"But they're setting fire to the buildings!" Helaine cried, coming farther into the room.

They were the most vilest creatures the world had the misfortune to have exist on its land. They were men from down the river, Christian warriors who normally lived peaceably. They were frightened by a silly rumor—which happened to be the truth, but they weren't aware of it. They were Muggles who abhorred witchcraft, magic, sorcery—anything that the people in Rowena's villagers secretly practiced, in other words.

"If we stay here, we will surely burn to death!" Tears began to stream down the child's face as hysterics bubbled out of her mouth. "If we stay here, we will—"

Rowena tightly grabbed her sister's wrists and pulled her tightly to her so that they were standing toe-to-toe. "And would you rather be defiled in the streets like some common doxy with the rest of the women?" Rowena asked her in a low voice. "Would you rather be an item they use and then discard? They will use you, and then discard you and abandon you to face a fate even worse than death by flames!" The child's pale face was blank. She remained unmoving. "Do you doubt me? Do not! They care so very little for you, sister mine!"

"Are you both daft?" a deep voice rumbled from the doorway in which Helaine had just abandoned. Rowena glanced up from her sister's face at the intruder. A man, a tall man, stood shrouded by shadows, his features indiscernible. But Rowena didn't need to see him in light to know who it was.

"Niall," Rowena said on a sigh. Niall had been her childhood friend. He was the blacksmith's son and had been preparing to take over the family business in recent months. His dark coloring matched Rowena's nearly pigment-for-pigment; they had constantly joked as children that they were twins, separated at birth. However, as time progressed, Rowena saw Niall less and less as a brother, but more and more as a man. A very handsome and alluring man, no less. She was convinced she was more than halfway in love with the man, but was afraid to give into her whims; she doubted Niall felt the same way about her, and she refused to put herself in a vulnerable position like that.

Helaine pulled free from her sister's grasp and turn suddenly around. She shot towards Niall and wrapped her arms around his waist in a childlike manner. He glanced down at her uncomfortably for she had never done that before, and then glanced up at Rowena.

"Thank the heavens!" Helaine said breathlessly as she let go of Niall. "Please convince my sibling of her folly by staying in this fire pit of a structure!"

He didn't even pause to do that. Before Rowena could react, Niall briskly walked across the room, grabbed her hand, and started pulling her out of the room. He grabbed Helaine with his free hand and quickly pulled them down the hallway. At the stairs, he paused only a moment before quickly descending, making sure to go at a pace that was suitable for the women.

The noise from outside was near deafening on the first floor. Children and women still ran around like headless chickens, screaming at the top of their lungs. The callous laughter of men who were fulfilling a bloodlust followed the screams, chilling Rowena's heart. They were doomed if they left. They were doomed if they stayed.

Niall pulled them against them as they came closer to the open front door. He stopped suddenly and turned to them, letting go of their wrists. He made hand motions that told them to stay silent and still. Rowena's heart pounded in her veins, filling her ears with the sound of her trepidation. She watched as Niall silently moved away from them and leaned against the wall next to the door. He quickly glanced outside, observed the chaos, and pulled his head back in.

"They are everywhere," he hissed as he made his way back to the females. He ran a callused hand through his dark hair and let out a puff of air. His eyebrows dropped to a frown above his eyes. Rowena knew he was unsure of how to proceed, but he would find a way. He always did.

He sighed once more. Placing his hands on his hips, he stared at Rowena, his dark eyes glittering in the dim light. A sadness suddenly filled Rowena's heart. Up until this point she had been totally numb from the shock of her parent's death. That hadn't been real to her; she hadn't the time to dwell on it. Now, standing in front of this man—her childhood friend, the one man she could very possibly ever love—she was painfully aware of all she stood to lose. She already lost her parents. While that was saddening alone, she hadn't lost Niall yet—"yet" being the key word.

A thud! on the floor directly above their heads broke the silence around them, followed by an excited cackle from a single man. A light cracking of wood met their ears, and suddenly Rowena was sharply aware of what was going on. The flame-throwers had finally reached their home. It was just one man; if they left now, perhaps they still had a chance.

"If we make a run for it, I think we can blend in with the village folk and make it to the forest," Niall said quietly. He once more grabbed their wrists and pulled them to the doorway. Before going through it, he turned his head to look at them over his right shoulder. "Do not scream; do not complain—just run, you understand?"

Both Rowena and Helaine nodded. Niall nodded his head once before pulling the two in front of him. Unsure of what to do, Rowena allowed him to lead her. As he stood behind them, he whispered, "When I say go, just go. Do not stop until you reach the forest."

"But what about you?" Rowena asked impulsively. Her voice wasn't as quiet as his had been, and she immediately closed her mouth. The less attention they garnered, the better.

"I'll be right behind you, I promise," he assured her, his voice still a whisper. Rowena swallowed, and nodded her head to tell her that she had heard him. "Ready?" He placed a hand on one of their shoulders, steadying them. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, without warning, he said, "Go." He gave them a starting shove and the two took off to the forest.

The line of trees wasn't that far from their home. Their father had chosen the location of the home solely for the view. He had always been fond of the forest and the freedom that it represented. He had never been afraid of it as Rowena had been as a child; he flourished in it. Rowena had hardly ever step foot in the place.

As they ran through the doorway, Rowena heard the distinguished "'Ey!" from a startled man. She shoved passed a villager she had recognized who was heading in the direction of the man outside of their house. She sent up a silent prayer for the man, knowing that he was likely to perish along with most of the men in the town.

She refused to steal a glance behind her, to see what had become of the village she had grown to love. She refused to see her friends mangled and wounded, to see their life's blood spilled callously on the ground. She wanted to preserve the happiness in her mind; she never wanted to remember the aftermath.

Once they reached the line of trees, the two sisters didn't stop running until the sounds of destruction were a faint whisper. Helaine grabbed Rowena's arm to stop her from running. She stopped abruptly and turned, hitting a solid wall of muscle. She glanced up and threw her arms around Niall's neck. He returned the hug, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You seem glad to see me," he whispered against her forehead. When Rowena didn't say anything, but continued to hug him, his humor died. He gently pushed her back, his hands resting on her shoulders. His eyes caught hers. She felt as if he were reading the storybook of her life. "I told you I'd be right behind you."

She couldn't fight it any longer. Silent tears started rolling down her face and it suddenly became hard to breathe. "I wasn't sure if you would," she choked out.

An understanding expression crossed over his features as he gently reached up and wiped away a tear from her cheek. Her head instinctively fell into his palm and he cradled it. So caught up in the moment Rowena completely forgot about Helaine. She forgot about the massacre that was taking place in her beloved home; she forgot about the loss of her parents. She was only aware of this man and how much she truly did love him.

"I'm sorry," he said so quietly that Rowena wasn't sure he had said anything at all. But she had seen his lips move, and he was suddenly so distant from her. He had closed his expression, made it blank. His hand reluctantly fell away from her face and he slowly backed away from her. "I'm so sorry," he said, this time in a tone that she could hear.

Without another glance, he turned on his heel and started to hurriedly make his way back towards their ravaged village. Bewildered, Rowena followed him, her eyes on his back. Her hair fell into her eyes as she ran to keep up with him. "Where are you going?" she shouted after him.

He stopped and turned back to her, his face still masked. She stopped a few feet in front of him, her hand unconsciously coming up to wipe the strands from her face. They had moved far enough away that Helaine was now out of sight. In the back of her mind, she worried about losing her, but was just as worried about losing the man in front of her.

"I must go back," Niall said firmly. "I must do what I can to help protect the village."

"The village is gone, Niall!" Rowena shouted, anxiety beginning to build in her breast. "There is nothing left to save! You cannot go back! We need you here—you must help protect us! You led us here—"

"I will come back for you!" he interrupted her, taking a step closer. "I will never abandon you, Rowena. You can be assured of that." He swallowed. "I could never live with myself if I did."

The tears returned to her eyes once more, blurring Niall's face. If he went back, she was sure she would never see him again. They had been so unprepared for this attack. Niall, she noticed, didn't even carry his wand! He had no way to protect himself except with his fists. He couldn't fight the fire with his fists, though. He couldn't fight their weapons. He had nothing. Nothing!

"You and Helaine must stay here until I return. Do not move from this forest. Do not come after me." He closed the distance between them and cupped her face in both of his hands. "I will come back for you!"

He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. It was a brief kiss, but it lasted long enough to send tremors down Rowena's limbs. When he pulled away, Rowena quickly latched onto his shirt front. He grasped her wrists and pulled himself free. Before letting go of her wrists, he brought her against him and quickly kissed her once more.

"Till I return," he said with a nod of his head. Hesitantly, he released her and slowly made his way backwards towards the village. After his third step, he turned his back to her and started running.

Rowena touched her lips, remembering the two sweet kisses he had given her. They held such promise! Rowena's insides melted in excitement for the future. He would return, this Rowena was ever sure of. He never made a promise he couldn't keep.

But she was still worried. He was still unarmed and up against a mob that out-manned him by near to thirty. It was no match he could win alone, and most of the other men had fallen to the Muggles' blades!

A drop of water landed on the tip of Rowena's nose. She glanced up through the tree limbs and up at the grey clouds above her. Another drop landed on her naked skin covering her hand, and yet another landed on the fabric of her nightdress. It was raining, a blessed thing in Rowena's mind.

Distantly, she heard the light water droplets falling into the river that ran along their village. She stood not far from it now, its silent flow gracefully pushing the water along its track. Whenever it rained, the water falling from the sky would lightly hit the surface of the creek in a pleasant pattern.

Growing up, she had always imagined a man outside of her window was plucking gently at his violin, preparing to serenade her with a tune about a heroic knight and a damsel in distress. She had often imagined herself as the damsel. The imaginary man and his violin had brought much solace to an anxious child. Whenever she was worried, it seemed to rain.

Rowena blinked away the memory, and reality came slamming into her mind. She was worried now, very worried. She felt helpless and vulnerable, something she had vowed to never feel.

"Till you return," Rowena whispered belatedly to the clouds above her, wondering why her heart suddenly felt so empty.

Fin.

Please R/R.