Tales of the Big Bad Wolf: The Red Riding Hood Arc (A Fairy Tale)

Chapter Sixteen, Parts C and D: Reflections

In a house several hundred yards away, the man who would normally be the most likely to hear this distant yelling was snoring.  Like the hunters, he had no claim to elegance as he sprawled sloppily across the bed with his hands and feet falling over the sides haphazardly.  

However, the shouts did rouse his self-appointed guardian from his spot in the corner of the room.  Edmund blinked heavily as he looked over at the woman in the chair next to his, reassuring himself that she was fine before he glanced at the bed in which their apparent patient was enjoying his sleep.  

Satisfied that neither was in any trouble, he moved with heavy and awkward steps to the window and stared vacantly at the grooves on the window pane. Lazily, he brushed his hair with his fingers while his eyes focused on the snow outside, pristine and clean beneath the window.    He was still thinking about the last image from the dream from which he woke.  He had seen the woman again, her face hazy all except for her mouth. 

She was speaking something to him in a strange unfamiliar language.  He wondered if this, too, was a memory or a trick of his mind.

In the chair next to the one he had vacated, Elanore sighed happily to herself while sleeping.  “Pancakes, please,” she laughed quietly, obviously caught in a dream far more pleasant than his.

Edmund crept quietly to the girl.  If he were his younger self, he would have already reached over and pinched her nose until she woke, flailing and annoyed.  Fortunately for her, he had become a far more thoughtful person since their childhood and instead rearranged the quilted blanket to cover her while she rested. 

Adulthood had not deprived Elanore of her talent for deep sleep.  Nor had it taken away her ability to find a way to eventually laugh and smile.  In spite of all the things that were happening around her, last night she had pushed aside her own concerns in order to entertain him.        

He leaned over her, his fingers lightly brushing away the locks of hair upon her cheeks – locks of hair that would otherwise fall into her mouth.   Who Elanore was as a woman had become more clear to him over these past few days.  The energetic girl he had known had become a woman of grace and resilience -- a woman gifted with an ability to hope and find joy in nearly any circumstance.

She did not stir at his touch, still wrapped up in a dream of food and pleasant things.  Elanore would miss the look of tenderness meant for her, a hint at the complex feelings that her best friend held for her but would not verbally express.  She would also not know the silent oath that he had made at that moment – not to simply protect her from others but to protect the person that she was.

A sudden chirp jarred the young man out of his thoughts.  “Sleeping Beauty giving you problems there, blondie?”   

Edmund whirled about and found the coachman perched comfortably at the edge of the spare bed.  He did not have to wonder how much the man had witnessed, for the look on the coachman’s face said enough.    Whatever gentle and quiet feelings he forgot as he went on the defensive.

Edmund felt awkward as he offered his excuses.  “She would have eaten her hair and her blanket if I hadn’t adjusted them for her.”

The coachman grinned lecherously while the young man fumbled even further while uttering proudly, “I’m not one to take advantage of a sleeping woman.”

Giles’ eyes glinted slightly.  “I never thought that. But you and the lady are rather cozy at times so I thought you might be simply continuing where you left off.”

“In front of a patient,” Edmund made a rather disgusted noise.  “You do have some interesting ideas. But how Elanore and I treat one another is really none of anyone’s business.”