Crimson Cloak
By DrummondType2
It is a very old story, told and retold so many times that the facts have been lost, and the truth obliterated by embellishments, alterations, exaggerations, omissions, and outright lies told over hundreds of iterations.
But I was there. I saw. I know. I am the last one to know the truth, and you will be the first to hear it told properly in a very long time. More years have passed than I have hairs on my head, and yet I remember it all clearly.
First was the young woman. She lived with her family on the edge of a dark and majestic wood. Everyone knew her by sight. She had the most astonishing crimson eyes, a long mane of tawny hair, and the most bewitching smile. She spoke in a calm, lilting accent, and she was generally pleasant to all around her.
Once a week, she would don a velvet cloak the same crimson shade as her eyes, and she would venture into the woods, following an old path worn through the woods by woodsmen and merchants. On the other side of the wood was a small village, and the first cabin at the edge of the village belonged to her maternal grandmother, a woman named Midori.
In fact, there were two paths through the forest. She would reassure her parents that she was taking the longer path, the safer path that led past the woodsmen, affording her safety from the creatures of the forest. But in fact, for some time, she had been taking the shorter path. She had begun doing so when she'd noticed that she was being followed by a wolf as she ventured through the woods.
She was savvy to the ways of the forest, our young woman of crimson hues. A pack of wolves was a threat. A lone wolf on its own? That was a curiosity. Had its pack cast it out? Had it gotten separated from them by some misfortune? Was this poor creature the sole survivor of some calamity that had befallen its fellow packmates?
The wolf never seemed aggressive to her. Indeed, it kept a respectful distance, at first, merely watching.
The young woman, let's call her Shizuru, decided to start talking to the wolf as she would walk through the woods.
"I see my escort has arrived," she smiled sweetly when she spotted the wolf, the first time she'd decided to speak to the beast. The wolf had hesitated at those words, almost as if it understood their meaning.
At one point, Shizuru had stopped at a large boulder roughly halfway down the path, and sat on it. The wolf kept its distance at first, but Shizuru had come prepared. She'd brought some dried meat from her home, and cast bits of it near the boulder.
The wolf had come every closer, until Shizuru had gotten a clear look at the creature. It was clad in a midnight hue, it's muscles lithe and lean. Sparkling emerald eyes regarded her with caution, even as it took the proffered food.
"Eat all you like," Shizuru said, "I brought it for you. You're my loyal escort, after all. You deserve a reward for your hard work."
The wolf's tail had swished in a perturbed way, suggesting it considered Shizuru's words an unfair tease. Nevertheless, it consumed the jerky. Presently, it came close enough that Shizuru was able to discern that the creature was female.
She would talk with her on her various walks through the woods, and she found her tone with the dark she-wolf often took a teasing tone.
Once it was, "Ara, but your coat is looking lovely today. Would you like me to braid your hair for you?"
Another time, after offering the she-wolf some honeyed cakes, she added, "Ara, but if you have too many of those things, you will increase your girth."
And on one memorable occasion, she had paused by the large boulder, saying to the she-wolf, "Ara, but it's spring, and romance is in the air. You should find a mate and settle down."
Each time, the she-wolf would balk, as if she understood Shizuru's words, and Shizuru would chuckle softly to herself. She wondered if wolves could blush, and what would it look like under their fur if they could.
Then came a dark summer day. Dark, because a storm was threatening. Shizuru set out on the path intending to quickly reach her grandmother's home. She was carrying a basket full of food to give Midori, as it was her birthday. There was fresh bread, aged cheese, a few smoked meats, some honeyed cakes, and a couple of bottles of red wine.
Unbeknownst to her, on this particular day, Midori had been called from her cabin to another village to help render aid, and so she was not home to greet the girl. However, while Shizuru was not yet aware of this fact, one denizen of the woods had observed the departure, and come up with a plan.
The forest is ancient, and at the time, many creatures who dwelt within had learned magicks and glamours of their own. And so, with the oppressive clouds overhead, and the storm threatening to break at any time, no one was outside to see a lithe, lean form with emerald eyes slip quietly into Midori's cabin, though if anyone had observed, they would not have seen a wolf. For that was not the form she had chosen.
Shizuru made her way swiftly through the woods, clad in her crimson cloak, hoping eagerly to beat the storm. She was all too keenly aware of the absence of her lupine friend, but though a bit saddened by the missed opportunity, she decided her frequent companion on these walks must have taken shelter somewhere from the pending rain. After all, the woods were her home, and she was likely used to evading the rain.
Shizuru reached the cabin just as the first drops of rain began to fall, and quickly entered to avoid getting drenched.
The cabin was dark. There were no candles lit, the embers in the fireplace were burning low, and all of the windows were shuttered against the rain.
In the dim light, Shizuru could just make out a figure sitting in the bed at the far end of the cabin, wearing a shawl and peering at her from the darkness.
"Come in, girl," a voice called from the shadows, husky but not hostile, "Come in out of the storm."
Shizuru knew at once that it was not her grandmother who she saw, for even in illness, Midori would not have left the cabin so dark. But at the same time, she sensed no danger, no threat.
She allowed her eyes to slowly adjust to the gloom as she stepped forward, setting the basket of food on the kitchen table.
"I'm delighted to see you again," Shizuru said, for though she did not know who she was speaking to, she sensed a familiar air.
As she adjusted to the darkness, she began to make out curious details about the person seated in the bed.
"My, what green eyes you have," for although Midori's eyes were green, they were not this deep shade of emerald.
"They're the eyes that have seen the depths of the forest," came the reply in a husky whisper, "the forest I have seen you traipse through many a time, girl."
Shizuru chuckled, suspecting she now knew the identity of the person she was speaking to.
"Ara, and what pale skin you have."
"It is the color of moonlight, in which I have bathed many a time."
Shizuru let out a soft fufufu of a chuckle, "I see, I see. Though you have an adorable little pudge in your belly. Too many honeyed caked on our walks together?"
And Shizuru finally learned what it looked like when a wolf blushed, for those cheeks flushed so brilliantly scarlet that they could have illuminated the room all on their own. In a huff, she drew the bedsheet over herself, protesting grumpily, "I do not have a pudge, Shizuru!"
Shizuru sat on the bed, and lowered the sheet from the blushing face, "Ikezu, hiding such a cute response from me."
Shizuru ran her fingers through the long midnight tresses of the cabin's visitor, "And where, pray, is my grandmother? That bit of pudge isn't her, is it?"
"I do NOT have a pudge!" came the heated reply, "And you grandmother went out on an errand. I just…wanted to talk to you."
Shizuru rose from the bed and started lighting a few candles, "Ara, ara, you have the advantage of me, my lupine acquaintance. For you have gleaned my name from our many talks in the woods, and yet I do not know yours."
"In the language of the forest, I am called the Summer Princess," the beautiful young woman said, "In the tongue of your people, you would say…Natsuki."
Shizuru chuckled, "And my Natsuki went to all the trouble to take this form just to talk to me?"
An eyebrow quirked, "Your Natsuki?"
Shizuru sat beside her in the bed again, drinking in her slender frame with her wine-dark eyes, "Did you choose this appearance, or did the magic?"
"This is my form, as you would understand it," Natsuki replied, suddenly very conscientious of her state of undress, especially as Shizuru had begun to gently peel the shawl away from her. Natuski became aware of a deep hunger in those crimson eyes.
"Wh-what are you…?" She spoke in barely a whisper.
"Shhh," Shizuru eased her back, "Just let me see all of you. My, but you are a delight. A feast for the eyes."
"Shizuru?" came the unsteady whisper.
Natsuki found herself silenced by a pair of crimson lips pressing gently against hers. There was a soft rustle of fabric, as the crimson cloak was undone and slid to the floor.
Natsuki found herself returning the kiss. Her arms wrapped around Shizuru, and she felt around for the fastenings to her blouse and skirt.
"Shizuru," she exhaled in that husky voice of hers, "From the day we first met…"
"Shh," Shizuru smiled at her, that calm, serene smile, as the candlelight twinkled in those crimson eyes, "I know. I think…I've known for awhile now."
And then, while the storm raged around the cabin that night, there was a whirlwind of activity inside, as well.
~~*~~
Midori returned to her cabin the next day. The first thing she noticed was an empty basket on the table, an empty bottle of wine, and one that was only half full.
She saw her granddaughter, clad only in her crimson cloak, sitting in the bed, eating ravenously from a plate with slices of bread, meat, and cheese. Laying beside her, head in her lap, was a dark-haired girl wearing a nightshirt, the crumbs of honeyed cakes still around her lips, as she dozed lightly with her arms around Shizuru.
Midori grinned at her granddaughter, making a grand show of sighing, "I see you've been keeping yourself entertained."
Shizuru smiled, but raised a finger to her lips, then nodded at her sleeping companion.
"So," Midori smiled, "Who's your friend?"
"Her name is Natsuki," Shizuru stroked her hair.
Midori chugged the remains of the bottle of wine, "I guess I'll have to be the one to tell your parents."
Shizuru blinked, "Tell them? What would you tell them?"
Midori grinned, "That our dear little Shizuru devoured the wolf."