Fall: Scheherazade retold

Four

Hans had seen many things in his life, but when a woman climbed out of the hole the star had fallen into, he found himself rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining her.

No, he decided, for if he were to imagine a woman on a night as cold as this, he would have wished for one who was warm and welcoming, well-wrapped in furs. Not this stumbling, staggering creature in grey rags who tumbled down the hill and lay lifeless at his feet.

No, not quite lifeless. She still drew breath, though not for long if she was left out here in the cold.

Hans hoisted her in his arms, tucking a fold of his cloak around her to keep out the wind. She was surprisingly warm. Perhaps she'd ridden the fallen star from heaven.

Laughter rumbled in his throat at such a silly thought. But angel or no, the woman needed shelter and the hut was all he could offer her. And at Christmas...all he had, he would gladly share.

So he settled her on the straw pallet beside the dying fire and covered her with a blanket, before wrapping his cloak around himself and heading outside again.

He brought in the half-barrel of wood, then returned to the woodpile for another load. He might not have much to offer, but he could give her a roaring fire to keep her warm tonight.

Hans shouldered the door open, stamping the snow from his boots, and found himself fixed in the sights of a pair of violet eyes.

"First dragons, now a bloody bear. If I'd known fairy godmothering was all about battling huge creatures, I never would have agreed to it. Matchmaking must be easier."