The maiden hummed softly as she folded the last of her family’s laundry. Coiling up the washing line, she placed it in the basket with the neatly folded clothes. Then, basket in hand, she walked back around the mill to the house.
Her father, the miller, was busy today and the mill, with its wheels and grindstones all moving and clunking together, had been noisy all day long. It was a relief for the maiden to come out and fold the laundry. She could still hear the noise outside, but she could feel the wind on her face now, and hear the occasional bird chirping as well.
She stopped abruptly as she came around the corner of the mill. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Her heart began to pound beneath her breast. She wanted to scream, to run. But she couldn’t. She wanted to do so, desperately wanted to, but her feet wouldn’t obey her. All she could do was stand there and stare at the man who leaned heavily against the mill wall.
She had known there were invaders in the Realm. She had never dreamed they would ever get so close, that they would ever get here. Not here…
The man was young, handsome, and had long blond hair and bright blue eyes. Riveted, the maiden found herself falling in love with him. He was not much older than she. Would he make a good husband?
What am I thinking? she thought, mentally shaking herself. He was an invader! His people were destroying hers. Tramping over the land, pillaging, killing—they were destroying the Realm! And all she could think about was how handsome this one appeared? He would kill her without a second thought. But not before doing something worse…
He had moved toward her while she stood there, frozen with terror. All these thoughts racing through her head, she had watched, unseeing, as he twitched and heaved himself forward, keeping one hand always on the mill wall. She wondered, now, if he was sick and, again, her heart went out to him.
Upon her now, the invader looked into her eyes. His were full of want and desire. But it wasn’t a wicked desire she saw. Rather, he was pleading with her, asking with his eyes what his tongue could not. Reaching out, he touched her elbow.
The contact shocked her back to her senses. Dropping the basket, she gasped. Then, the scream finally tearing from her throat, she ran past him, around to the front of the mill and into her father’s waiting arms.
Her father, the miller, was busy today and the mill, with its wheels and grindstones all moving and clunking together, had been noisy all day long. It was a relief for the maiden to come out and fold the laundry. She could still hear the noise outside, but she could feel the wind on her face now, and hear the occasional bird chirping as well.
She stopped abruptly as she came around the corner of the mill. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Her heart began to pound beneath her breast. She wanted to scream, to run. But she couldn’t. She wanted to do so, desperately wanted to, but her feet wouldn’t obey her. All she could do was stand there and stare at the man who leaned heavily against the mill wall.
She had known there were invaders in the Realm. She had never dreamed they would ever get so close, that they would ever get here. Not here…
The man was young, handsome, and had long blond hair and bright blue eyes. Riveted, the maiden found herself falling in love with him. He was not much older than she. Would he make a good husband?
What am I thinking? she thought, mentally shaking herself. He was an invader! His people were destroying hers. Tramping over the land, pillaging, killing—they were destroying the Realm! And all she could think about was how handsome this one appeared? He would kill her without a second thought. But not before doing something worse…
He had moved toward her while she stood there, frozen with terror. All these thoughts racing through her head, she had watched, unseeing, as he twitched and heaved himself forward, keeping one hand always on the mill wall. She wondered, now, if he was sick and, again, her heart went out to him.
Upon her now, the invader looked into her eyes. His were full of want and desire. But it wasn’t a wicked desire she saw. Rather, he was pleading with her, asking with his eyes what his tongue could not. Reaching out, he touched her elbow.
The contact shocked her back to her senses. Dropping the basket, she gasped. Then, the scream finally tearing from her throat, she ran past him, around to the front of the mill and into her father’s waiting arms.