The Maiden and the Witch

There once lived a young woman called Annette, who at the moment the story begins, is draped hopelessly over a stone by a stream. Her long dark hair is filled with twigs, her soft brown skin is stained with dirt, her bright brown eyes are red and swollen, and she is weeping.

"Pardon me, young lady," a weak, ragged voice said, "but your tears rival that of my friend, the Brook, and I wonder if you might try and calm yourself so he doesn't get embarrassed."

Annette sat up. Before her stood an old, hunch-backed woman whose face resembled that of an angry toad's but eyes were warm and kind. She lowered her gaze to the ground.

"Apologies miss, I believed I was alone."

"One is never alone when in the forest," The old woman extended her hand, "Why don't you come back to my cottage for some tea, and we'll leave old babble-brook to do his crying in peace."

Annette met her eyes and started. Before her where there once was a terribly witchy woman, stood a young maiden more beautiful than the sun, with shining golden hair, soft pink cheeks upon pale skin, and kind, brown eyes. She quirked an eyebrow.

"What is it, dear?"

And in that same moment she was old and toad-y again. Annette's face grew hot as she rubbed her eyes. "Nothing. Only a bit of dehydration I suppose."

The woman's shoulders sank slightly but her warm smile remained the same as Annette took her hand.

"Come now, a bit of tea and a bit of talk and we'll have you right as rain."

With that, the two made their way into the trees. Threats of ghouls and ghosts haunted the back of Annette's mind as the forest grew darker and quieter. But the old woman's hand provided a safe and steady comfort the whole way through.

Soon, the trees began to thin and they came to a clearing where a humble cottage sat bathed sunshine. Stretching from their feet to the cottage was a garden of flowers, herbs, and vegetables, all mixed together and dancing in the breeze.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Annette gasped.

"I'm glad you like it." the woman beamed as she lead her down the stone walkway. "I worked hard on it."

"You built this?"

The woman chuckled, "Of course!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." Annette blushed as she ducked to enter the building, "It's just so very magical."

The woman turned back and chuckled. "I should hope it's magical. I'm a witch!"

Annette paused, unable to keep her jaw from dropping as realization set in.

"You're the Witch of the Wood!" She said.

"I hope that isn't a problem," The witch said, "I assumed that you knew."

"Oh, no, of course not! My head isn't on straight today, I'm sorry." Annette stuttered.

The witch gave a puzzled look and waved her hand, "Stop apologizing, dear! There's no need."

"Sorry." They exchanged a glance and chuckled.

Annette lowered herself into sturdy wooden chair as the witch prepared tea. Folding her hands neatly in her lap, she took in the tidy little room she found herself in. Besides the myriad of herbs and ingredients that seemed to crowd every surface of this house, the room was threadbare, with very little need for personal items or comfortable chairs.

Warnings to be cautious of the Witch of the Wood filled her head but they all seemed so silly and childish now, for the woman before her was the kindest person she had ever come to meet. Here, she felt safe for the first time in a long time.