The witch saw many couples after that. A few ventured near her castle, but most did not. Sometimes she would watch them, sometimes she would lure them. Then the winter came and no one came into the woods besides woodsmen, and they saw the traces of her dark magic and stayed far away. As the winds howled outside her tower she sat by the black fire with her birds, now totaled ten in all. Some were from the hated village close by. There were two exotic birds were from a band of traveling gypsies, and they cooed softly with the wind. Some birds sang, pining for their old lives and loves. Others sat still, barely eating, barely moving. The witch kept them alive with her magic, but it was a losing battle. She knew the sad young girls would die as birds if left this way much longer. But that was their fate as her revenge.
It was a day early in spring when she first saw them. They were an odd pair, at first. After watching endless couples the witch had decided they were all the same. The same petite girls, young girls. The same burly men ready to strip them of their innocence in their single-minded lust. On occasions it was the girl that was doing the seducing, and the witch would shriek in anger at such depravity.
But these two were different. The girl was as dignified as a queen, but dripped sadness with every step. The man wasn't much older than her, they seemed more friends than lovers, even the witch had to admit this. As the nights wore on they appeared again and again. They talked. And talked. At first the witch barely listened, assuming it was the same useless dribble all lovers say. She soon realized that this was not the case, that they spoke of simple things. They talked for the sake of talking, just to be in each others company. The young romance was almost without lust beside a hand touch here and there. When the girl would bend down to see the flowers her dress would slip, and to the witch's amusement he would avert his eyes. She wondered what sort of game he was playing, with his false respect for her modesty.
Two months and the witch had gained three birds for her collection, but not the strange young couple from the mountain village. The witch was getting more and more annoyed with the young man's manipulations, because she didn't understand them. He never kissed the poor girl, though his eyes spoke of his want of her, though this girl did not seem special, though unique in her look and coloring. The girl seemed to love the man just as much, though how could she not? the girl was poor, and the young man was rich and charming. They never kissed, and they barely touched. The girl sometimes sang for her love, she had a crystal clear voice. They wanted each other, that was true. But for some reason they kept at a distance.
The couple perplexed the witch but she soon decided they weren't worth the trouble. Next time they came into the woods, she would have the girl.
They came like always, just as the sun sat on the horizon like a golden egg, trembling before its fall into night. The two young lovers walked to their favorite spot, with the owl shadowing their every move. He was always so attentive, their hands touching briefly only to help her over a fallen tree or across a brook. Soon they were at their favorite spot, a weeping willow on a hill above a glass-like pond. The sun's rays still filled the clearing, but was quickly draining out.
The man started playing with the young girls palm, pretending to read it for her. The witch was struck again by what an off pair they were. He had bronze-brown hair, and was strong and confident. She also appeared strong, for a woman. Her hair was a peculiar reddish color, probably the most unique person in that small village. In reality they were very much equals in intellect and physique, unlike all the others.
They laughed, and the sudden sound startled the witch, and she almost fell out her perch with a shriek. The girl looked up, unafraid. She looked right up at the owls hiding place. The witch shivered internally. So much of this girl reminded her of her Rapunz-
No. She would not even think that name.
It was a problem, however, that she could not merely scare them into the trap of magic near her castle. She would have to use her wits for these two.
So she attacked.
Talons out, she dove for the man's face. He yelled and dived quickly of of the way. Taking his beloved's hand they ran, deeper into the forest. The owl followed on silent wings, driving them deeper. All at once, they disappeared.
The owl stopped, perching on a branch in confusion, swiveling her head back and forth to find them again. She couldn't hear them, either.
Suddenly she went tumbling, head over talons, seeing stars. The witch shrieked in rage and pain and saw the woman holding a branch like a club.
The witch changed into human form, and fear crossed the face of the woman. The witch smiled with satisfaction. She began the spell to turn her into a bird, but stopped. She was steps away from being in range of the castle, but she could feel the man in the trees behind her, frozen and confused. So the witch snapped her fingers, making his frozen form appear just behind the witch. The girl gasped, and the blood drained from her face.
"What will it be, girl?" the witches voice scratched. "Step closer and save your love, or run from me now and never see him again."
Tears streamed down the girls face as she lowered her branch. There was not a touch of hesitation in her features, she stepped forward. The witch cirlced her with magic the moment she was in range, and began muttering the spell. The two lovers could only gaze at each other. As the new spell took hold the girl opened her mouth and a began to sing the same song she sang so happily nights ago:
My little bird, with his ring so red,
Sings sorrow, and sorrow and woe;
For he sings that the turtle-dove soon will be dead,
oh sorrow, and sorrow
The witch stopped her spells and the girls voice was swallowed up as she changed into a bird. The witch had her snatched up in a small cage before she even stopped the change, and the witch gasped. The girl had transformed into a beautiful hawk, fierce and proud with red golden feathers. The girl who was the ugliest of all the witches hostages was the most beautiful, powerful bird.
The witch folded the cage with air and watched it disapear to the castle. She then turned to the young man, still as a rock but for the tears dripping from his chin.
She quickly snapped her fingers, releasing him but leaving him weak and slow. He fell to his knee's and clasped his hands.
"...Please." was all he could utter.
The witch was silent for a moment, studying him. Bile rose in her throat. "You shall never see her again, and she will be better off as my bird than with you. If you really cared for her, you would thank me." She spat the bile out and then melted into the shadows. Invisible, she watched him weep for a while, smiling. She restored the rest of his strength, but he didn't seem to notice. Soon, though, he got up. The moon had risen, and its silvery light made even deeper shadows. The young man looked up at the silhouette of the tower, his tears drying. He only swallowed once or twice, fiddling with the knife on his belt.
The witch's smile disapeared. The young ones always planned a swift revenge but their courage always failed them. This one didn't look like he was going to be pushed aside so easily.
The witch snapped her fingers, just as the man took a step forward. He disappeared, looking shocked.
Dumping him in some village far from here will discourage him enough, thought the witch. She smiled again, and went to the tower. The birds were waiting for her, greeting the newcomer with chirps and blinks but they shivered and returned to their respective corners when the witch entered. She walked over to the most gilded cage of all, covered in gold and rubies. The hawk watched her with one golden eye, head held high. The witch only smiled with her gory blind eyes in her direction, then snapped her fingers. Covers for all the cages appeared.
"Sleep tight, my pretty birds." squawked the witch, cackling.