I'm so glad you like it. At least, you who reviewed. You who did not, I certainly hope you did. I might not update as soon next time - schooldays are harsh.
Here it is.

Neither Teen Titans nor The Raven is mine, I disclaim.


As he was standing there, his weariness all at once became so great that he could not struggle against it, and lay down for a short time, but he was determined not to go to sleep. Hardly, however, had he lain down, than his eyes closed of their own accord, and he fell asleep… that nothing in the world could have aroused him.The Raven, the Brothers Grimm


The first impression he had was that it was warm, cozy, and everything else a home needed to be, to be a home. He had been galloping for a long time, and it crossed his mind that the raven had played some sort of trick at his expense, but hardly had he thought it than saw the silhouette of a settlement.

The house, made entirely of stone walls and wooden floor, looked quite merry. Several candle lights twinkled teasingly from the few windows he had been able to see from outside. He had seen a modest-sized plantation field, where one cow and two sheep lay down, blissfully sleeping.

Richard tied Mahogany to a post outside clearly meant for tethering and carefully removed the saddle and reins, of which he placed beside the post.

A stout little woman, with graying hair, was visibly boiling water on the fire. When she saw she had a guest, she immediately brightened, and said, "Come in, please, do come in. It's been a while since I've had guests as young as you!" She tittered and fluttered about the small house, opening a cupboard one time and checking the water the next, and before he knew it, Richard was being seated at the table, and many, many dishes of food were laid out, with wine and water.

"Please," the woman said, a little out of breath from the enthusiastic activity, "Eat some. I have many excesses here, living on my own, and the cheese is the absolute best in town on further, I tell you."

Richard smiled, but politely declined. "I'm not allowed to eat, but thank you so very much for all your hospitality." He got up – the sundial he'd seen earlier outside had showed it was half past one, and he did not want to miss the raven.

The old woman frowned. "But please, humor your host and drink at least one sip of water. You must be quite exhausted, coming this far into the forest. Please, drink." She pushed the tall glass of water towards him.

He let himself be persuaded. After all, he reasoned, what could be so dangerous about being a little drowsy? I can fight it. He nodded, and took one careful sip.

Shortly afterwards, he went to the hill, as it was very nearly two o'clock. He stood there waiting, when all of a sudden something washed over him, and he felt extremely exhausted and in want of a good sleep. He fought it as hard as he could, but steadily, the blankness began to win. As unconsciously he fell back and lay down on the soft grass, he closed his eyelids and before he knew what was happening, he drifted off.

The last thing he remembered was the sound of hooves, a defined 'caw', a tiny rustle, and a feminine voice crying out, "No!"


The first thought that crossed his mind when he fought back the clouded masses in his head was, Where am I?

The second one was, I can't believe I fell asleep.

Not until the third one did the full impact of what had happened hit him. I fell asleep! The raven!

Briefly he looked around, as if searching for it; but then thought he was stupid to do so, because it was clearly sometime in the night, and he was lying on a straw bed. He tried to remember what had happened, but all he managed to grasp back in his memory was a maiden's voice, and he felt as if he'd known it all his life.

His door opened; the woman peeped in. When she saw he was awake, she grinned. "Hello," she greeted. "You fell asleep on the hill last night; you must have been quite weary. It is nearly dawn." At this she presented him with a tray full of small cakes and set it before him. "Do eat, so that you will regain your strength to travel again."

At the sight of the little colorful cakes, Richard immediately felt his temper rise. He had never been excellent at controlling his short fuse, but most of the time managed to keep it under close supervision. However, the sight of food by this witch – it simply angered him, since it was hindering him to his goal.

He opened his mouth to tell the old hag something, but she'd stuffed one of the cakes into his mouth when he'd opened it, and so he had no choice but to swallow it to prevent from suffocating himself. He could only hope, he thought as he swallowed, that he would be ready for it and be strong enough to fight it.

The woman smiled, and left the room.


The hour had scarcely struck, but already Richard was feeling the effects of the little cake he had been forced.

Blankness wiped out his consciousness little by little; he was fighting it to his absolute best, but still it was winning.

He tried to remember his parents – their memory went out like a sputtering candle. He struggled to keep in mind his teenage sweetheart, Star – but he could no longer hold to it as he did to his parents, but the sharp pain of heartache that he'd experienced since her family moved away no longer came. He was, needless to say, surprised. If Star's memory couldn't keep him conscious, nothing would.

And then, unbidden, another memory came – he barely remembered it this morning, but now it seemed clear and sharp. The girl's voice, whoever she was, etched itself in his mind, and although it was only one word that she spoke, he held on to it like a lifeline.

Tresses of darkness embraced him, but not before he felt a cool hand touch his face almost tenderly, and the same voice he'd been holding on to murmured, somewhat woodenly and sounding very close, "Don't leave."


This time, when he woke up, he knew exactly what condition he was in, and he was extremely furious with himself for many things.

The most important one was his lack of strength toward the sleeping draught or whatever the damned woman was putting in his mouth byway of his food. He had been sure, absolutely sure, the first time that he could fight it, but now, he felt helpless. The vulnerability of himself put him in great distress.

He refused to touch anything the lady had left for him, including the pastries, bread loaf, cheese and red wine. He was proud of the restrain he showed and exercised, and amazingly, still he did not feel in the least bit hungry. Richard strode onto the hill, keeping his chin up.

…Which was why he nearly fell over with the impact of the familiar flood of drowsiness. It took him completely by surprise, and it was as if a giant hand had appeared and made him to keel over. Cunning fox, he thought venomously, she must have believed I wouldn't eat or drink when I woke up, so she slipped something down my throat – despite the overwhelming exhaustion, he felt a shudder of disgust – while I was asleep.

However – maybe because he'd taken it three times? – he felt strong enough to fight it a little longer, much longer compared to the first time he'd tried to. He struggled harder than ever, fighting against it, and rubbed his eyes to open them forcefully, but it was extremely insistent.

Richard thought he'd seen an alabaster, womanly face, framed with hyacinthine locks, and piercing eyes – those eyes! He thought he could drown himself in them forever – hover above his face and a hand holding it, barely fluttering with consciousness. He smiled as he fell asleep with the memory of her smile, though bitter as it was, and three words, uttered in a tone not quite grim, not quite happy, not quite melodious, and barely almost hopeful:

"Come find me."