Waiting

Once upon a time, there was a fair maiden, trapped in a tower almost as lonely as her mind. She spent her days longing for companionship and her nights wishing upon the passing falling stars for anybody to come find her. The maiden did not know how she got to the tower, was not sure how long she had been there, and hadn’t the slightest clue how to leave. Days stacked high upon days as she waited and waited for a rescuer.

One day, it began to rain, a phenomenon with which the maiden was not yet familiar. At first, the droplets of water simply painted the glass of her hazy windows and pelted the shingles of the roof just outside of it. Then slowly, the tiled floor began to slip beneath the rising water, wetting the maiden’s socked feet. She had never noticed before, but as she looked up then she saw—her tower had no ceiling. The maiden had always assumed it did; why would it not?

The rain trickled down faster and faster, turning from a shower to a downpour, soaking the maiden’s fine silk dress and golden hair. The water rose so high that the maiden was forced to tread in it, keeping herself afloat. The rising wave took her up, up, up, until finally she was at the very top of the tower, looking over the edge to the outside world. The air was fresh with the smell of rain, and the thunder rolled ominously as she hoisted herself over the tower wall. She climbed carefully down to the roof ledge outside her old window. Pressing her face to the glass, she peered into the room she once inhabited. Though she gazed upon it with fondness, the maiden knew at once that she would never go back.

Chilled to the bone, the maiden traipsed through the muddy expanse surrounding what she now saw was a sprawling estate. The maiden did not know her tower was connected to anything more than just itself. Her small circular room had but one window and no door. The castle-like structure was calm and still, no light, sound, or movement coming from its cavernous halls. She gave a bow to what was once her home, if only by definition, and continued off into the grayness of the horizon.

Soon, the maiden found herself at the edge of an expansive forest. Unsure how far she had travelled, she looked behind her, but the castle nor her tower were anywhere in sight. She faced the woods once more, shivering from both the temperature and her growing fear. The tower may have been lonely, but it was all she knew. The maiden had wanted a rescuer not only so she could be free of the tower, but so she would not have to explore the world outside it alone. With an urgency to be shielded from the still falling rain, the maiden stood tall and parted the branches before her to enter the wood.

The raindrops failed to reach her through the thick growth of the forest, and the maiden found it easier to move forward without them impeding her progress. The longer she walked, the more she found herself breathing easier. Her hair, dress, and socks began to dry, and the sun even peeked softly through the canopy above. The fair maiden felt she had been walking an awfully long time when a small cottage seemed to enter her path almost from nowhere. Yellow lamplight shone in one of the windows, and smoke curled from the chimney on the thatched roof. Pine needles clung to her socks as she approached the quiet home with caution.

As the maiden went for the door, she saw it was already ajar. She reached out with hesitant fingertips and guided it further open. A man sat in a wingback chair next to a blazing fire. His eyes rose to the maiden and widened alongside his mouth, pearly teeth forming a charming smile. As the maiden surveyed him, she blushed at his kind face and the way his eyes lit up as he viewed her, never straying too far from her own green irises. Looking on, her gaze landed on his feet. Two shackles cuffed his ankles, attached to a chain that coiled around his furniture. At the end of the length, the chains were bolted into the floor, which had obvious signs of distress. Claw marks and carvings etched the floor while chinks and scuffs decorated the chains, cuffs, and bolts. The maiden looked back to the man near the fire, where a second ornate chair sat facing him.

He regarded her with a radiance behind his eyes as he breathed out the words, “I’ve been waiting for you.”