A bit angsty, but what's a story without some, right? Nevertheless, enjoy and comment your thoughts!
The forest is quiet. Not a sound echoes through the trees, but the soft treading of his boots as he makes his way swiftly through the wood. His breath is silent as he trudges on; eyes keen on the landscape before him, scrutinizing tree and brush until he finds that one thing for which he is looking. It is a small stag, a yearling perhaps. Yet, he will do. He will do nicely. As the hunter approaches, the animal grazes delicately on a patch of flowers amidst a clearing in the forest, unaware of the man that stalks forward like the silently stealthy predator he is.
The Huntsman reaches within yards of the young stag before reaching behind himself to grab at an arrow from his quiver and draw it back on his bow. Breathing steadily in through his nose and out through his mouth, he takes his aim. The arrow flies through the air, whizzing through space until it hits the target, burying itself deep inside the flank of that poor stag. Immediately it falls with a soft cry of pain. It takes just seconds for the Huntsman to gather what he needs; using his dagger to cut away the flesh and muscle to pull out that one vital organ and slip into the special black leather satchel.
The rest of the meat he cuts from the carcass and shoves into a separate burlap sack before making the short journey back to the cottage. There, he is greeted by Regina who is already awake and helping Red bake fresh loaves of bread for tonight's meal.
"Good morning," Regina calls from the oven whilst Granny and Red exchange knowing glances. The Huntsman nods his head and smiles shyly before setting the burlap sack down on the table to reveal fresh cuts of deer meat.
"Perfect!", Red exclaims, clapping her hands together as she approaches the table, "We were just running out of stock. Thank you."
"No need," the Huntsman replies with a dutiful nod of his head. He grabs a smaller piece, tossing it underneath the table to where his wolf friend stretches lazily.
"We are going to finally have such a well-balanced dinner," Regina remarks, heaving a sigh of relief, "I am so sick and tired of dirty mushrooms, wrinkled berries, meat, meat, and more meat. Look—" She shows the Huntsman various greens and vegetables that she and Red had gathered earlier that morning. "—finally freshly harvested from the garden!"
The Huntsman laughs softly, nodding his head in amusement at the bandit's childlike excitement. "How about that," he remarks, playing along with her mood. However his smile doesn't quite touch his eyes. The man is far from thrilled, for underneath it all lies his ever-present predicament.
"Are you all right?", Regina asks with a slight frown, "You seem troubled."
"I'm fine," the Huntsman answers, "I'm just…tired."
"Tired from what?", the bandit teases, leaning forward towards him to whisper, "Last night?" Her smirk widens as she wiggles her eyebrows playfully. The man can't help but snort a small chuckle, all the while ducking his head whilst smiling another one of his shy smiles.
"Regina-", he begins.
"What?"
"…They're looking," he mumbles, eager to draw attention away from the true reason of his mood. Regina raises a brow and turns to catch both Red and Granny standing awkwardly at opposite sides of the room. Both were just staring agape at the couple before they suddenly jump to action, upon meeting the eyes of the bandit, and move to finish whatever tasks they have started prior to this short, yet amusing encounter.
Regina rolls her eyes before turning back towards the Huntsman who still remains rather quiet. "But seriously, are you okay?", she questions once more.
The Huntsman nods. "Yes," he confirms firmly, "You needn't worry so much about me." In all honestly, she should worry about herself. But then again, that worry now lies within his own hands. Regina sighs audibly before tending to the bread once more, taking the loaves out and setting them on the wooden counters to cool. The entire cottage is filled with the aroma of freshly made bread. It gives the place a warm and homey feeling.
"So Regina, what are your plans, now that the Huntsman is safe?", Red wonders, voice breaking the silence. She smirks, glancing back and forth between the hunter and bandit; again a smirk that is all-knowing and devious.
"Wait, what do you mean?", Regina asks.
"Well I've found a satchel filled to the brim of gold in your sack," Red replies, somewhat sheepishly.
Regina raises a brow. "So you've been going through my things?"
"Not exactly. The sack had tipped over and the bag had fallen out." Regina rolls her eyes, but the other brunette chooses to ignore the look. "Anyway, I heard the rumors that you were searching for a passage out of the kingdom."
Regina laughs nervously, glancing at the Huntsman. "Yes they are true," she sighs, "I robbed a carriage earlier and scored big. I believe I do have enough, more than enough, now to board a ship."
"Finally," Red says, smiling as she comes to rest a hand on her friend's shoulder. "After all these years, you can finally escape and live happily ever after."
"Yes, best of luck to you," Granny chimes, nodding her head in approval. Regina smiles politely at the two before glancing once more at the Huntsman who remains silent.
The man is torn. Of course he is deeply saddened to see the one he loves leave so soon. Yet, the other part of him is relieved, in fact, that Regina has a means of escaping the Evil Queen. This could quite possibly be the solution to his predicament. And even if he must pay the price of treason against the Queen, Regina will not be involved should she escape as planned.
"Congratulations," the Huntsman says quietly with one firm nod. Regina forces a smile as both share the same look, the same emotion in each other's eyes. It's a bittersweet conflict of emotions, one with which both will deeply struggle.
"I want you to come with me," Regina states gently as the pair hike leisurely through the forest. It's late afternoon. The sun is already set low in the sky; pale blue turning to soft oranges and reds.
"I can't," the Huntsman says as he walks alongside the bandit. He doesn't meet her eyes. Instead, he stares straight ahead to the path in front.
"Why not?"
"Because I belong here," the Huntsman answers, shaking his head, "This forest is my home. And my wolf, my friend…I can't leave him."
Regina heaves a large sigh. "You can bring your wolf with you."
"Regina, no…I can't. I'm sorry." Should the Queen find out that he escapes with the bandit, there's no telling what she could do to them both. It just calls for even more harm to come Regina's way, harm that the Huntsman would rather stay and take the punishment than to watch it be inflicted upon the one he loves, who could so easily escape.
Regina shakes her head, stopping to come and stand in front of the man. "But what about last night?", she asks, "What we said? You said you wouldn't leave me again. You are my home, just as I am yours. That's what we promised each other. Right?"
"Regina…", the Huntsman sighs, gazing downward, refusing to meet her eyes.
"Please don't," she whispers.
"Regina…"
"Why?", Regina explodes, throwing her hands in the air, "Why are you playing me like this? Why are you leading me on?"
"I'm not leading you on."
"Yes you are!"
"I'm not, Regina. Please, you need to trust me."
"I'm trusting that you will tell me the truth," Regina retorts, "You're hiding something. What is it? Do you not trust me?"
"Regina stop-"
"What are you afraid of?!"
"I'm not afraid of anything!"
"Then why are you playing this game?"
"Because I'm trying to protect you!", the Huntsman blurts. Regina catches her breath, gazing at him with wide eyes.
"Protect me from what?", she breathes, "The Evil Queen? I don't need your protection!"
"You may think not, but you do."
"You think I'm weak? Helpless? A damsel in distress?"
"No."
"Then what? Spit it out!"
"Regina, don't bait me."
"Why? What are you going to do?"
The Huntsman glares at her, his eyes darkening immediately as all frustration he has held buried deep down within suddenly begins to surface. The wolf inside him raises its hackles; fur bristling, muzzle snarling. His left hand balls into a fist. The hunter steps forward into Regina's space, eyes staring daggers down at her, searing her own with their intensity.
Regina sucks in her breath, but holds her ground, staring up at the man and meeting his gaze, matching hers with that of his. "I'm not afraid of you," she bites through clenched teeth.
"You should be," the Huntsman growls lowly, "I'm not the man you think I am."
Regina shakes her head. "You are exactly the man I think you are."
"Don't you realize that I can kill you?"
"But you won't," Regina replies courageously.
"What makes you think I won't?"
"Because you love me," she whispers breathlessly. His proximity is far too close.
"I don't know how to love," the Huntsman hisses, "I will never know how to love."
They all eat quietly that night. Red and Granny know something most definitely had gone wrong. They can tell by the chilled air that surrounds the table, the air of indifference. However they both are smart enough to not pry, lest they be the next target. Regina and the Huntsman eat at opposite ends of the table, barely looking each other in the eye. Red and Granny sit in between the two. Conversation is minimal. The food is delicious, yet there are no comments made, no compliments to be given.
That night, Regina finds herself lying on a cot of her own, curled up beneath a thick woolen blanket. In truthfulness, she wants nothing more than to be held once more in the arms of the Huntsman. But things have rapidly turned to the worst as both have come to realize that their hearts are far too guarded, far too hardened. Both are convinced that no amount of love is enough to keep them both warm at night. It is with these thoughts in which Regina finds herself drifting off into a deep sleep, filled with haunted, troubled dreams of a steely pair of grey eyes and a hand that holds a dagger.
The Huntsman tosses and turns in his cot, unable to catch even a wink of sleep. Darkened thoughts plague his mind. The man is deeply torn between the light and the dark. Again, it is the fear that underlies it all; his fear of loving, of opening his heart. And once more the hunter is shot back to previous notions already voiced by the darkened Queen herself. He is a man without a heart. No amount of love and light will change that. It's just who he is. It's who he has become. That being said, why should he have to withstand the wrath and fury of the Queen for something he hadn't done, for something he has absolutely no obligation to do whatsoever? Why should he have to be a part of a plan that has absolutely nothing to do with him? Why should he be the one who's suffering, who has such a weight upon his chest?
Stuck teetering on the balance between good and evil, the Huntsman groans aloud, finally bringing himself to rise from his bed. Clothed in but his leather trousers and a simple tunic, the man moves about the darkness of the room with ease. Feeling his way around, he grabs his dagger from beneath the bed and unsheathes it. Then upon carrying it across the cabin, he enters into the back room where the bandit sleeps.
He approaches her silently, dagger raised, poised to strike. Inching closer to the sleeping form, the Huntsman's breath quickens as he mentally prepares himself for the blow that which he is meant to inflict. He comes to the side of her bed. The bandit lies on her side, her front facing the Huntsman. The Huntsman's eyes flash with darkness as he tightens his grip on the dagger, bringing it to be raised at the level of his head.
In the silence the bandit sighs softly, outwardly through her nose, and stirs slightly; eyelids fluttering. This halts the Huntsman as he carefully watches as her features tense and relax; her brows coming together to furrow slightly as she purses her lips before relaxing to the position she had before. She seems…peaceful. Too peaceful. Beautiful. The way the moon shines through the window, illuminating half of her face, making her raven locks shimmer in the soft and pale white light. How can the hunter kill such a creature, such a creature who he loves and treasures more than he could possibly understand; the beautiful woman he's willing to do anything in order to protect, of whose own relationship he is willing to put on the line in order to save?
With a soft and exasperated groan, the Huntsman loosens his grip, and the handle of the dagger slips through his fingers, falling to the floor with a soft dulled clatter. Regina stirs once more, but not enough to be woken. So it is with a heavy heart that the Huntsman makes his way back into his room, gathers his belongings, dresses, and steals away from the cottage, like a bandit in the night.
I think we can all guess pretty much where the Huntsman is headed. But what will happen next? Keep following, next update is just around the corner!
