The Huntsman In London {Sequel to Mad and In Love}

It Comes to Pass, He Must Have Friends

"Alan! My favorite boy! Please, come closer for me.." The woman's voice was harsh on the ears of the boy and he hesitated to come closer than several meters away.

"Honestly, does everyone really think I'm that stupid...?" He replied warily, "Or perhaps that suicidal...Either way, I will not blindly walk to slaughter."

The Duchess looked shocked, appalled by the notion. It was ludicrous, but she seemed to dismiss it soon enough. Afterall, he was mad and there was no helping it.

"You really have lost it all haven't you? Your mind that is. If you bothered to check in once in awhile, you would know I'm on a diet. Porcine, if you're interested, though it seems the only thing you're interested in is her. A deadly fixation that makes me glad she isn't anywhere near you to witness. Or we'd all be cooked."

Alan clenched his teeth and drew his blade, "I dare you to repeat such ill fated lies!"

"You were right, you honestly are this stupid...What advantage would I have to lie to you? I am of your mind, but then you always loved to lie to yourself. Like how you are so sure (Y/n) still loves you, that she even did in the first place!" Dutchess took some deep breaths to sooth her nerves, "I speak of what eats you up and your own hunger. One becoming more insatiable than the other by the second."

"My hunger...Such desires are for one person and that is, my (Y/n)."

Dutchess shook her head with disappointment.

"While that may be true, this is slowly being corrupted and malformed. The werewolf has already stricken but you're so consumed by the blood you miss the best part! The fear, the slip of hope, how the air lingers as if asphyxiated. This is what you miss!"

"Liar, I don't enjoy this at all!"

Her eyebrows raised to his testimony, focusing on the young man's deathly grip on his only weapon.

He conceded his denial. Perhaps, he did enjoy the chase...

Looking for you through the broken bits of his mind. For when he finds that small shard of semblance to you...Yes, he loved it. He loved hearing your voice echo puzzles and riddles. The way your voice would articulate every word for him. The journey to you was filled with memories and thoughts soaked with the essence of you. And he so terribly loved it.

"Whatever may be the case in that regard, I have reached an impasse. I long for more shards of memory but I can't seem to-" His voice of confusion and ponder was cut off by the Dutchess.

"Seeming to be be unable does not make you unable. Take me for instance. I've become so terribly hungry, but all my succulent meals run amidst the harsh environment. Am I unable to leave my comforts? Perhaps. But certainly you have that skill in the least."

Alan scoffed, "I'm certainly not your waiter or your chef."

"But was it not self sufficiency that lead you to kill me the first time?"

He sighed as he couldn't argue that rather agreeable point.

"Look", she continued,"Just use my pepper grinder to pepper up the pig snouts running about. If you retrieve the ones in my yard I'll reward you handsomely. Though I'd be careful. I've also a pest problem but I believe you can manage."

He begrudgingly took the pepper grinder, going outside to see what kind of pests and pig parts there were for him.

Bolts with clear, thin wings seemed to be the pests and rather than a meat nuisance as the Duchess seemed to suggest, he had to dispose so many nests not far from the layer, a total of five near the cannibals kitchen. Definitely not a restaurant he would recommend.

At once Alan returned, Lugging back the comically large bag of raw pork that bled out through the sack. Seeing as it would take to much effort to get the Duchesses attention, he threw up the bag into the air tossing the vorpal blade so the knife pierce through the top of the bag and pinned it to the wall before the raven heads face.

She seemed momentarily shocked before looking to the side rather annoyed in acknowledgment.

"I've done as you asked. Now tell me about my Memories of (Y/n)." Alan demanded this gravely.

The Dutchess closed her eyes with a sigh. "There's this vague sense that you have seen her..." She trailed looking out into the Vale with an ambience of channeling, "Do you not feel her? She's just behind you but suddenly jumps in front. Always there but never seen...Never heard. Look at what she has built for you and asks nothing in return...Doesn't it make one...Guilty?"

He looked above and surround, and indeed had this sense of ease. Just breathing it in, "She took my tears...And made them my comfort...She took my childhood, and made it my joy...What Little I had...I..." When he turned to inquire about these feelings, the Duchess was gone once again.

"If (Y/n) had made this place...Then evidence of her must be hidden somewhere..." He concluded and began his adventure through the Forest for which he sought comfort.