Gretel POV
My head was pounding when I awoke. It was worse than the time Hansel and I challenged a group of Russian sailors to a drinking game. Slowly I eased one eye open, meeting the bright light of a lantern, said eye was quickly shut again.
While I attempted to subdue the pain, I cast back over the last few days. The call to deal with the witch plague, the kidnapping of the twelfth child, being rescued by a troll, finding out about our mother and finally, the ritual. My eyes snapped open. Muriel had turned on the other witches, Muriel had tried to take me away but when I tried to remember anything else it was a blank. Fucking witch drugged me. Again. Anger coursed through my veins as I took in my surroundings.
It appeared from the rough stone walls that I was in some kind of cave complex. Although it had clearly been made use of, tapestries and carpets gave the room a more comfortable feel to it. The large bed I was lying in was the most comfortable I'd ever slept in which made the fact that these small luxuries were situated in a cave of all places somewhat confusing. Sitting up, I noticed that the large shirt and soft leggings I was wearing neither belonged to me nor were they what I was wearing before I was made unconscious.
At that moment one of the tapestries were swept aside as Muriel herself walked in. My heartfelt glare was met with a smirk as she set a bowl of stew next on a small table. Settling herself into the only chair in the room she watched me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.
"These aren't my clothes and I don't remember changing", nothing but that highly irritating smirk again.
"Where are we?", again. Nothing. I sighed, this was like pulling teeth.
"Mind telling me what's going on? I mean it seems like you've decided not to cut my heart out of my chest." This time she frowned and leant forward, I mentally slapped myself as my attention wandered to her cleavage. "What do you feel when you look at me?" her question took me off guard. I want to kiss you, make love with you, be close to you.
"I feel an undeniable urge to throw the nearest sharp object at your head" my sarcastic remark was met with a grin. God, she's beautiful when she smiles. Mental slap no. 2. "Other than that" she murmured, slinking towards me, hips swaying as she moved. Reaching under the bed, she produced my crossbow. I designed and built all the weapon's Hansel and I hunted with, but this was my pride and joy. It took me six months to complete and had never failed me. "Did you make this?" she really had a way of changing the subject. "Yeah, so, you going to tell me nice girls don't spend their time inventing stuff?" At this she outright laughed. I scowled, first she captures me, tells me she's going to cut my heart out, apparently changes her mind and kidnaps me again, and now she's laughing in my face. I know she's a dark witch but really, there's no need to be rude.
Catching sight of my expression she calmed herself, still smiling she said, "My apologies, but you are most definitely not a 'nice girl'. I merely wished to know if this masterpiece of mechanics was made by you." Setting the 'masterpiece' aside she sat on the bed beside me, resting her hand on my calf beneath the sheets. When I stiffened at the contact she just rubbed soothing circles, a comforting gesture that made me want to snuggle into her. Jerking my leg away, I settled my back against the headboard, scowl firmly back in place. What the hell is wrong with me? I'd been fighting this pull for her since the jail house incident.
"In answer to your question, I ceased to want to cut your heart out the moment I saw you pointing that"; she gestured to the crossbow, "at me. Since the moment I caught sight of my fated mate." The entire time, I'd been absently watching her full lips, but at the word 'mate' my eyes sapped up to hers. In a voice entirely too pleasant I asked, "Pardon?"
For the first time since we met I saw fear in her eyes. "Witches, both light and dark, have a single fated mate. This person is the only one they will ever truly love romantically." I watched her in stoic silence as she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "The mate bond binds them together for all eternity and before it's, ah, consummated", my eyebrow twitched and she stared at the wall, unable to meet my gaze, "the couple will feel an increasing draw to one another". She glanced at my face as she finished. I stared back, knowing my face would remain a mask as my mind was numb from the information she'd given me. I knew she wasn't lying, I'd felt the attraction grow each time we met. When her eyes raked over my bound form at the ritual, I'd forgotten about our audience for a moment as arousal surged through my body. But that didn't mean I wanted to be bound to a dark witch, especially not this one. "You killed my mother", at this she raised her face. "Technically I didn't do anything except tell the truth. I said she was a witch, I didn't specify what kind. Adrianna had been helping those people for years, treating their sick and tending to their wounds. But at the first opportunity they turned on her, so they could enjoy a good witch burning." Even though, to some extent she was right, I raged at her disregard for her part in my mother's brutal death. "You may not have lit the pyre but you purposefully led them to her, playing on their prejudice so you could take my heart!" She looked uncomfortable again, "I regret bringing you pain." she whispered.
Astounded I stared at her for several long moments, before turning over and curling up facing away from her. I listened in silence to her breathing before the rustle of fabric indicated her leaving.
Muriel POV
That didn't exactly go as I'd hoped; then again, I'd been ignoring reality and hoping for her to be interested in consummating the bond at the first opportunity. A witch can dream.
I'd felt the need to question her about the cross bow that I'd retrieved some hours ago after the site of the battle had been abandoned. When she confirmed her invention, pride flooded my heart. My Gretel was a technological genius judging by the crossbow and the hunters' other weapons. The comment about society's expectations of 'nice girls' brought tears of laughter to my eyes. I loved her rebellious streak; I never wanted her to be a 'nice girl'. I wanted her to be my Gretel in tight leather trousers and men's shirts. I wanted her to build all her inventions and bite sheriffs' noses.
When the conversation had turned to Adrianna I felt anger and guilt war within me, I'd never felt guilt before and knew only Gretel would ever be able to draw this reaction from me. It seemed that while she was irritating in life, Adrianna was doubly so in death. If I'd known who the whore had mothered I never would have led the mob to her. I should probably stop referring to her as 'the whore'.
Moving down the tunnel to the main cavern of my personal lair, I glanced around and wondered if I should do anything to make it more comfortable for Gretel. This place was entirely secure, I found the set of caves several centuries ago and spent every year since warding the place to the hilt. No one else knew it existed and nobody could reach it if they did. Human's kept away due to spells and it was warded from the eyes of other witches. I felt safe bringing my Gretel here rather than any of my other lairs around the continent that I used to meet with other witches.
Even so I worried about the décor. Over the years I'd acquired tapestries, carpets, furniture and trinkets that had caught my attention enough to be awarded a place of honour here, but I wondered if Gretel would like it.
A sigh escaped my lips as I realised that I, a grand witch, was being reduced to worrying over interior decorating like some idiot human. Walking over to the book shelves that lined the walls of the gigantic space, I selected a book in hopes of losing myself in its pages.
Gretel POV
I glanced up when the tapestry swung back into place. I couldn't believe it, both that she thought she could fob all the blame off on the villagers and that she'd actually apologised.
Pushing the thoughts aside for now I move towards the smell that had been taunting my deprived stomach since she brought it in. Clasping the bowl of stew in both hands I inhaled the heavenly scent, but still hesitated to eat. There was no reason for the witch to poison the stew if she hadn't killed me yet, but old habits die hard. Eventually hunger won out and I wolfed the food down, the taste was amazing and I wondered if the witch had made it herself.
Once I'd finished I set the bowl aside and considered my options. She still hadn't answered my question as to our location and I also didn't know how far underground I was. Eventually curiosity won out and I began to search for more suitable clothing to explore in.
Apparently the witch had decided I didn't need any other clothing or boots so I ended up walking down a surprisingly well lit tunnel in the clothes I'd slept in.
It didn't take long to reach the end, leading me into a gigantic cavern that was surprisingly well furnished with walls of bookshelves and large carpets lining the floor, a fire crackled in a carved out hearth. Close to this, was a cluster of armchairs, one of which the witch was sitting in. I stood gawping for a little longer before my gaze returned to her. She was reading a book, apparently so absorbed in the contents that she hadn't noticed me standing there for the last five minutes. Moving quietly so as not to disturb her I moved closer, watching her expression as she consumed the information on the page.
After what seemed like an age, she looked up, startling slightly at the sight of me standing there. Before I could think I blurted, "What's your name?"