Pale skin, hair black as a raven's wing, a stark contrast. His hair was always mussed, at odds with his otherwise immaculate appearance. Deep brown eyes that bored into you when he was awake. But the Horseman rarely saw him awake, usually fast asleep or fainted. And his lips, full and shapely. The Horseman wondered what they tasted like, what that lovely skin tasted like. What it felt like to run his fingers through that soft hair. To feel the young man's body shudder beneath him as he entered him.
But he couldn't do any of that. Not while the black witch held him captive. He snorted in self-deprecation. Don't hide from the truth. You couldn't have him even if you were free of the black witch. Someone so beautiful has no place with a ruthless corpse like yourself. Let him marry the white witch and have hoards of children. But no matter how many times he told himself this he couldn't stop thinking of him. Such a mystery, coward one moment, hero the next. He intrigued the Horseman, and he tempted the horseman. And the Horseman had never been much good at resisting temptation. Suddenly an idea came to him. He called Daredevil to him. If he couldn't possess the young man as he wanted at least he could bask in the glow of his presence.
****
Ichabod was sleeping peacefully, curled up in his bed, hair sprayed across the pillow. Not a thing disturbed him. Until a gloved hand came out of nowhere and clapped over his mouth. His eyes snapped open, the light of the moon showed the owner of the glove plainly. It was the Headless Horseman. Ichabod promptly fainted.
The Horseman was torn between amusement and sadness. He had to do something about the young man's habit of fainting whenever he saw him. Hopefully it was only due to his headlessness, a situation he planed on remedying quickly.
He slung the young man over Daredevil's back and mounted, riding off into the woods. The first part of his plan was complete, he had the young man, now all he had to do was to convince him to help him. And find some way to communicate with him, for obviously talking was out. Damn he missed his head. Mounting Daredevil he raced back to the Tree of the Dead.