Run. Run faster. Run until your feet fall off. These are the only words I can think of as I dash through the barren forest. Spring has been in swing for several months now, but the trees are only just now blooming, and the underbrush is only now fluffed enough to allow bypassers to see the greenery. Why am I running? What am I running from? Hunters, I am running from Hunters. "Heretic!" I hear them chant as a whole. "Burn the witch! Kill the witch!" They cry, chasing behind me with whatever weaponry they could possibly get their grubby hands on. Be it pitchforks, be it torches, be it cattle prods, fire pokers, walking sticks, fallen tree branches, if it was sharp, it was useful.
But they don't know the forest like I do. They don't have the many years of roaming aimlessly as the sky turns gray and rain droplets dot my face like I do. They don't have the many years of worshipping the very soil, the trees, the undergrowth, the animals like I do. I twist and turn, taking a path only I know, that leads deep into the heart of the forest, a place no man, woman, or child dares to enter, for they all fear that place is the devil's land, where demons and fairies and gods not of this world dance around fires naked under the full moon.
My clothing snags on a tree limb sticking out and before I know it, I'm taking a stumble into the murky pond water that sits at the edge of the deep forest, a landmark that wards of villagers past its point. Maybe it was a blessing from Mother Nature, or perhaps the gods giving me a second chance at life. I take a big deep breath in, hold it as I plug my nose, and dip beneath the water's surface. I can faintly hear the villagers within their outraged mob wail and call for me, calling at me rather than to me. My vision is beginning to turn black at the corners just seconds before they start to walk away. I resurface, coughing and gasping, desperately trying to suck in whatever air I could without making too much of a racket.
For several long moments, I think I'm safe. It's dead silent, a cool breeze blows by as it starts to rain. The rain is just quiet enough for me to hear a twig snap under what must be a foot, as no animal would make the heavy sound of a leather boot stomping through the terrain. I go to turn around, but there's already an arm over my collarbone and a knife to my throat, keeping me in place. "Don't move." A female voice whispers in my ear. "They're still near. You move, they kill us both." She whispers in a hushed tone. For several minutes I stay completely still, breathing as quietly as possible, my breath somehow syncing with the girl holding me. I do not know why I haven't struggled or fought yet, but something in my gut tells me she won't hurt me, perhaps she's not even here for me.
Her grip releases once the mob passes and I turn around, expecting some battle-worn crone. Instead, I stare at the face of an angel on earth. Beautiful, scarred, messy, unkempt, covered in mud and grass and twigs. Her grayish blue eyes gaze back into mine and I know I'm done for. "You're…" I start, trying desperately to come up with actual real words to describe how ethereal this woman in front of me is. "And you're too noisy for your own good. Honestly, what did you think was going to happen? You were either going to die by the mob, die by drowning, or die by the mob a few minutes later than before. You're lucky I found you." She scolds me. I'm sure I caught the more important words such as "noisy", "mob", "drowning", but the rest fades into obscurity as I'm awe-struck by the beauty of a mysterious woman I've only met moments ago.
"Are you even listening? You're even more hopeless than the men!" She scoffs, pulling her leg up from the mud that our feet have sunken into by now, and I'm still staring at her with my lips parted slightly, words hanging on the tip of my tongue, too afraid to come out of my mouth. I'm speechless as her hands wrap around my hips and pull me up and out of the mud in one fluid movement. "You are insanely strong." Is the first thing I have said to her since I've met her. "Thank you for noticing." She hums sarcastically, sitting on a fallen log nearby to unlace and remove her boots, rinsing them off in the pond water. "Why are you here? The villagers are terrified of being this deep in the forest." I inquire quietly, hesitantly taking a seat beside the unnamed woman.
"Got lost on an expedition." She answers me shortly. "That's bullshit. They wouldn't allow a woman on an expedition, let alone one to the heart of the forest, let alone by herself." I narrow my gaze towards her. "Why can't you be normal? Most people would've asked for my name and husband by now." The woman sighs, clearly exhausted with my digging into her personal affairs. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I saved your life, you don't get to question mine. And considering I haven't seen a mob that large since the last burning, I'm assuming you're a 'witch'?" The woman stops cleaning her boots and gazes up at me and I'm again stunned by the fact that someone so otherworldly is paying attention to me of all people.
"Pagan." I mutter softly. "You won't turn me in, right?" My hands are gripping at the edge of my dress, anxiously pulling and squeezing the linen into my fists. "I saved your life from them, why would I save you just to turn you in? That's illogical." She looks me dead in the eyes. "Name's Mikasa. Yours?" Mikasa's eyes shift downwards from my own irises to my lips. Maybe she's hard of hearing and trying to read my lips? "[Y/N]." I mumble. "[Y/N], huh? I like it." She flashes a kind, barely there smile at me. "Why are you out here, truly?" I repeat my question. "I'm a pagan too. Came from a few villages over, I've been on foot for days." Mikasa answers. I feel my breath catch in my throat as I watch her pull a boline out of her bag, one with a pentacle and stones matching each point's element encrusted into the handle. "That's beautiful." I blurt out before I can stop myself.
"Not unlike yourself, my lady." I hear her whisper. It's soft, breathy. I didn't expect such a brash woman to be so soft spoken. She uses the knife to cut a mushroom off of a tree a few feet away, as well as some wildberries growing at the tree's base. "Careful. This forest is known for its poisonous berries, I'd recommend sticking to mushrooms and meat." I warn, standing up, balling the edges of my dress into my fists so it won't drag in the mud. "I'm aware. That's exactly why I'm picking them. Good for hexes and wards, it'll keep the villagers off our backs long enough for us to get a move on." Mikasa lifts her head to blink at me before returning to her task.
I must've blacked out, because I'm suddenly seated at a campfire, feasting on roasted bird, meanwhile, Mikasa uses a leaf, a needle, and a jar of water to make a makeshift compass. "We're still several miles south of the nearest coven. If we can make it there by the end of tomorrow, we should be alright. For now, I suggest you get comfortable and have a rest. You look worn to the bone." She whispers. Instead of arguing, I simply finish my meal and lay down on the blanket she'd set out near the fire, a sigh of contentment leaving my lips as my cold, clammy skin makes contact with the warm dry blanket. After a few more moments of careful mapping, Mikasa lays beside me, unafraid of our proximity. Just as I am at the brink of sleep, the euphoric feeling in between the waking world and that of the unconscious, I feel her warm hand rest inside my own, the final blow allowing me to drift off.
Come morning, she's already packed up and eating whatever herbs she could forage nearby. Instead of giving pleasantries, she simply helps me up, smothers the fire in dirt, and we are on our merry way. The trek from here to the nearest coven is at least thirteen miles, certainly not the longest possible, but certainly no stroll in the park. "We must make haste. They'll catch up to us soon if we're not careful." Mikasa warns, her hand clutching mine as she guides me through the weaving and winding path amidst the woods. By dusk, we've made it, our bodies aching, heaving and sagging with joint and muscle soreness, our legs taught with lactic acid buildup. But the cabin in front of us is a welcome sight, one for sore eyes and sore bodies.
An old woman opens the door. "My, you two look exhausted. Come in, come in!" She insists, ushering us indoors. Inside is a warm safe haven, filled with plush furnishings and both innocent women as well as full blown pagans and apothecaries draped across the furniture. Some of them cradle sleeping babies, others teaching small children to read, most of them either sleeping or helping to upkeep the welfare of the cabin itself. Mikasa goes upstairs to bathe, meanwhile I sit near the fire, resting on a large ottoman long enough to act as a dog bed for humans. I hear the soft chitter chatter between women and mothers, children, even the welcomed men. While some of the women clean up dirtied dishes or dust tarnished surfaces, the few men are billowing the fire or chopping wood outdoors. After about an hour, they switch, the women now billowing the fire and chopping the wood while the men tend to the children and chores.
Later into the night, I'm outdoors, accompanied only by my thoughts as well as the soft chirping of toads and crickets alike. I hear the door swing open and then someone sits by my side. "You never finished your sentence." Mikasa speaks up, staring out at the landscape. "You're ethereal. Unearthly. Otherworldly. Angelic. Beautiful, in every sense of the word. There are not enough words in the English dictionary to describe how much my soul burns for you, how much my heart beats for you, how much my very essence yearns for you." I whisper, unable to stop the flow of words that come out as smoothly as a river thawed by spring's warmth.
"You speak of me as if I am a goddess," Mikasa starts. "As if you are not the one I wish to worship." She leans in, our eyes meeting for a brief moment before her lips are against mine. It's a warmth I've never felt before, as if the very core of the earth is within my chest. Just as I lean back, she whispers close to my ear, "Let's go a bit farther into the forest, away from the cabin. Everyone can hear us from here." She takes me by the hand and leads me about a hundred yards away from the cabin, before both of us have discarded our garments in a frantic effort to worship each other, to feel skin against skin as if we are marble lovers carved by the ancient Greeks themselves.
Her hands pray apart my thighs with little to no effort as I open myself to her, letting her do with me as she pleases. It's gentle, the way her fingers slide into my very core. Both of us are lost in a world of euphoric ecstasy, rendered useless to the throes of the tides of pleasure that keep us connected at each other's lower halves. By the time we've both orgasmed, we lay tangled in each other's limbs, hands gently caressing the others' arms, staring at each other with starry eyes and heavy breaths. "If you are what I worship, then this Earth is my altar, and my sexuality is my offering to you." Mikasa whispers softly. "You speak of me so highly, as if I am not the one equally as in love with you as you are with me. We are humans, and in that, we have human nature to love and nurture one another. You are who I choose to nurture." I whisper softly.
By the time we've made it back to the cabin, everyone is settling in for the night, babies and children are put to sleep, men hold their wives, sisters hold each other. "I hope you two have had your fun." The old woman who greeted us first gives us a cheeky smile as she pats either of our backs and retires to bed. Both myself and Mikasa stare at each other wide-eyed for only a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter, then we, too, go upstairs to a shared cot, with her holding me close at the waist. "Goodnight, my love." She whispers. "Goodnight, my darling." I whisper back, blowing out the candle on the table next to the bed, drifting into a peaceful slumber.