An Anthology of Unfinished Ideas

A Prose For Winter

Fallon should have been back by now. It was getting too dark outside, and the wolves would come. If not the wolves, then some other beast, perhaps something human. Calandrea paused at the top of the stairs - she wasn't allowed in the tavern section of the inn after hours, but her uncle had to notice that his own daughter was missing, didn't he?

She touched at her arm, gently grazing the scars to push back the memories of that night.

For Fallon. She took a deep breath and placed her foot on the first step. For goodness' sake, you're a grown woman.

Her feet led her down the steps at a slower pace than she would have liked. It wasn't until she reached the end of the stairs that she noticed the pounding beat of her heart in her ears. Her fingers clutched at the railing as her eyes landed on her drunken uncle laughing behind the bar. He hadn't spotted her yet, otherwise, she suspected he would excuse himself to reprimand her like a child and send her back up to her room.

Before she could make any more moves toward him, movement by the window caught her eye and she froze.

He's back.

For four winters, Rogue and his companion, Tristan, arrived on the 21st of December and stayed until March. She had always been rather drawn to him, and when Fallon had meddled and introduced them the group was inseparable. The four of them often enjoying late nights by the fire. Fallon was usually the first to go to bed, often followed by Tristan, leaving Rogue and Calandrea alone. That was how she had come to fall in love with him. Then, last winter he had to go and ruin it all.

It was the night before he and Tristan would be checking out. Fallon and Tristan had already gone to bed leaving Calandrea alone with Rogue. She doesn't even remember the events leading up to the moment he had her pressed against a tree, fervently kissing her. A moment so intense she felt there was no mistaking that he felt the same for her.

And she was wrong. The following morning, he had left without saying a word, leaving her questioning everything.

It didn't matter now though; he was here, and he would help her.

But could she be certain?

It was Tristan who looked up and finally noticed her first, waving her over with a smile. She took one more look at her distracted uncle and turned on her heel.

I'll find her myself.

Her room was dimly lit, highlighting mounds of books scattered about her room regarding herbal medicines and various remedies. She secured her cloak around her neck, fastened her knife around her waist, and grabbed her boots. She had nowhere near as much knowledge of the surrounding woods as Fallon and her tracks would surely be covered in fresh snow, but Calandrea had to try.

She opened her door and bumped right into a hard chest, slowly leaning her head back to meet his gaze. She swallowed.

"You avoiding me?" Rogue.

"No, I just didn't know you were back." He squinted at her, waiting for more, "when did you arrive?"

"Yesterday morning." He gently reached out, tucking a strand piece of hair behind her ear before trailing his thumb down her jaw. She shivered, causing him to immediately drop his hand.

"You shouldn't be up here, Rogue." The corner of his mouth tipped upward. He was enjoying this.

"Are you mad at me for not saying hi to you sooner, Calandrea?" She shook her head, too embarrassed to even speak aloud. "Because I had good reason. Tristan was running a fever when we got here, and it finally broke this afternoon. We figured we would enjoy a couple drinks down at the bar."