Red

Chapter One

Brown curls bounced with every step Valentina took down the worn, dirt path, large, wicker basket in tow. She clutched her red cloak closer to her lithe body in attempts to shield herself from the cool, post-winter breeze. The dense lines of trees did nothing to protect the young woman from the crisp air, and the thick foliage filtered any warmth the sun above could provide. Her pace quickened, her body begging her to get to town fast enough, gather everything off of her list, and get home to warm up. Pale skin rippled with gooseflesh at a fresh gust of wind, and Valentina decided she had had enough.

Soft hands pushed her coinage further down into her cloak pockets, hiked up the waistband of thick, wool tights, and held her empty basket close to her body before sprinting down the path. Leaves ad twigs crunched underneath leather soled shoes. Frigid air continued to assault the brunette's face, further chapping her lips and tinting her cheeks pink. Asides from her desire to warm up, Valentina knew she needed to get home quickly or face the wrath of her grandmother.

Despite having raised her since she was a girl, the old woman was a wicked crone. Her tongue was foul, spewing words as ugly as her heart, and her hand had a bite worse than the wolves that lived in the forest. She ran her home like a tyrant-- demanding spotless floors and nothing less than unquestioned obedience. Even in her old age, she managed to overpower her granddaughter, physically and emotionally, reminding the girl of her worthlessness and replaceability. Valentina loathed the decrepit bat, wishing her mother would come back, or a Prince Charming would sweep her away. The small cottage and impossible rules were suffocating, and the young brunette begged for air.

The trees thinned, making way for a small collection of cottages and merchant stands. The air was warmer there--the sun was continuously kissing the ground. Each shop was bustling with business and chatter. Women were dressed in long dresses and cloaks, plain minus the daisies and wildflowers embroidered at the hems. Men were clad in trousers and thick sweaters. The children matched their parents, most girls also wearing bonnets while the boys had ear muffs. Girls and boys clung to their parents, but frequently begged to be with the other children, bored while their parents mingled with one another and ran their respected errands.

Valentina breathed in deeply, slowing to a paced walk at the taste of well-deserved freedom. The woman reveled in the minuscule errands she was forced to run: they meant release--human interaction. Of course, she spoke with people fairly often--either while she was working in the village bakery or running errands--but the contact felt as if it were only a morsel of what she needed.

She made fairly quick work of navigating the village, stopping in the bakery first and picking up a fresh loaf of bread and a few sweet treats. They were bread based knots glazed with a honeyed cream. Every bite was heaven. Valentina could not get enough of them. When she passed others, she greeted them politely, a wide smile on her pink lips. She continued about her way, purchasing a few bottles of milk, a dozen eggs, and a variety of vegetables before shouting out farewells to the villagers she passed, returning to the well worn, dirt path she had followed once already.

Her basket hung at her side, heavy and almost overflowing, barely moving as she trotted down the path, her mood becoming more solemn the closer she got to the cottage. The wind had died down, remaining as nothing more than a whistling through the trees. Valentina was grateful, her body slightly warmer than it had been on the journey to the village. She let her mind wander, taking in the solitude and humming while a few birds sang. It was pleasant, and the red-cloaked girl almost forgot about her home life until the cottage came into view.

It was simple, one-storied, and made of weathering bricks with straw covering the wooden roof. Dark green shrubs sat at the front, two corners of the house with a flowerbed on either side of the front door. The cottage sat at the edge of a river, the perfect place to swim during the hot months or attempt to fish as a cheaper alternative to visiting the butcher. It was almost the perfect home--slightly secluded, quaint, and cozy. It would have been perfect had Val's grandmother never lived there.

Green eyes peered up at the sky, noting how she had time before she needed to be back. She veered to the left, making her way down another path, one which lead to what she considered was her "happy place". Past the tree that almost looked like an old man's face, around an over sized rock with a flat top--the perfect place for her to sit and read--and through overgrown bushes adorned with pieces of old nests and flower buds, Valentina arrived, embracing the joy of her spot. She immediately sat down on the old blanket she had brought out years prior, just observing the way nature worked. She was about to say something to no one in particular until she heard rustling in the bushes behind her. Fear gripped her heart. If her grandmother had found out about this place, even as simple as it was, she would be murdered, or worse--would never be able to return.

As the foliage swayed more frantically, Valentina stood to her feet, eyes wide. "Who's there?" She exclaimed, holding her wicker basket to her stomach.

A tall girl appeared, dressed in a cream colored dress that grazed the ground. She had long, raven hair falling to her stomach in silky strands. Her eyes were like cinnamon; shining, speckled, and mesmerizing. She looked relatively older, perhaps a few years or so. Valentina found herself completely obsessed with the beautiful dame, desiring nothing more than to know of the woman that stood before her. The brunette hadn't ever met the unknown beauty, but as they locked eyes, she felt as if she knew her since the beginning of time.

"Hello." Her voice was thick and sweet like nectar. Val wanted to drink every drop.

She shifted on her feet. "Hello."

The woman came closer, eyes dragging over every inch of the brunette. "I am called Ellerie," she stated, reaching her hand out.

Valentina took it cautiously, shaking it slowly. "Valentina."

Ellerie smirked, seating herself down on the once occupied blanket, beckoning Valentina to join her. Obedient to the stranger she claimed to know, the young woman sat, maintaining a reasonable distance, just to be safe.

"The sun will set soon."

Green eyes glared at the newcomer, unsure of how to respond to such a blatant statement.

"You must be getting home soon then, yes?"

She hummed loud enough for the woman to hear.

Ellerie laughed, and Val swore her heart skipped. "I have never had a better conversation with another person."

"Sorry," Val ran a hand through her tangled hair shyly. "I have never met you before--are you a traveler?"

Thin lips curved upward. "You could say that."

Intrigued, Valentina asked questions--every one that she could think of--and Ellerie returned the favor. It wasn't long before the two women were laughing hysterically, an unbreakable bond already forming between them. The sun had nearly set, threatening to pass beneath the river's surface, and Val stood abruptly, knowing she had a few moments before she needed to be home, or face the wrath of her grandmother.

She squeaked out one more question before running off, unsure of the answer. "Will I see you again?"

"I hope so," the raven-haired woman replied, showing her teeth in a smile that met her eyes, almost making them gleam brighter than they already had.

Leather clad feet hit the ground, carrying the brunette back to her prison with a newfound hope locked in her heart.