Moa Writes

Here, in its nascent form, are the first two chapters of a project that I've been really having fun writing lately! It even features fun things like blanks in the place of names/holidays/places that I haven't settled on yet! I thought that it might be kind of neat to show how I go back and fill in details like that later on in story development :D

I'd maybe describe this one as following an 'enemies to married to lovers' trope

One

In the early morning light, the forest took on an unusually soft, alluring air, so unlike the mirk and menace that crept through the trees in the nighttime. It was in these moments that Annis dared to stand at the top of the hill overlooking the road down to the forest, her hands tucked in her apron. She was never able to linger for very long; there was always the risk that she’d be spotted and scolded for wandering out of the castle unaccompanied, but it was a risk that she took with ever-increasing frequency.

A young woman of fairly respectable breeding wasn’t meant to possess such a profound sense of curiosity in the forbidden, and Annis had always prided herself in being fairly respectable. She was lucky, she knew, to have ended up in Elden Keep, living a life of comfort and security. With no family left to speak of, and no prospects whatsoever, keeping in the lord and lady’s good graces was a matter of utmost importance.

In fact, when at all possible, Annis preferred to avoid their notice entirely.

The mountain that rose from the far reaches of the forest looked imposing as always, swathed in a constant fog that seemed to drown out the greenery below every night. They said in the village that spirits skulked down from the mountain under the cover of the mist to find human souls to steal, but she hardly considered such superstitions credible. It was far more likely, in her opinion, that the Greenwoods held bandits and outlaws who preferred the cover of dark, and had crafted such tall tales to keep everyone else far away.

If that were the case, then it certainly seemed to have worked. Every inhabitant of Elden Keep and the village nearby seemed to avoid venturing there alone at all costs, save for Sir Ostig, who claimed that the best hunting for miles around was to be done in the forest. Of course, as Sir Ostig also maintained that he’d lost his hand to a woman wearing a wolf’s skin that he’d encountered in the forest one night, Annis found his claims a bit suspect.

Realizing that she’d managed to linger far longer than she’d intended, Annis turned on her heel and hurried back to the castle. If she was lucky, today might be the day that Matron finally excused her from her duties early enough that she might sneak away to explore the village. Nearly four months in Elden Keep, and she’d hardly had a moment alone in all that time.

“You are out early this morning, May Annis.”

She tensed, but was only the boy Todd, leaning against his stave in the shadow of the gateway. Annis drew herself up to her full height; she was only a bit taller than him, but she hoped to be imposing. “I do hope that you are not the only guard on patrol, else we are all surely doomed.”

“Your words wound, my lady.” Todd stepped closer, a cheeky grin on his face. “I do not believe that Lord Gereld would be happy to hear that his fosterling is prowling about unsupervised.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Annis replied primly, dusting off her skirts. “I have only been taking in some fresh morning air in the courtyard.”

Todd looked at her for a moment, then turned back towards the open gate. “Do you often dream about the forest?”

“What was that?”

“You might want to ask old Madge for a charm, if you are.” He tapped a little wooden bead tied around his neck. “Helps me. Well enough, at least.”

“Madge the potter? Isn’t she mad?”

Todd snorted. “Mad as can be, I expect, but you and I can hardly talk, lady, if we are hearing the call of the Greenwood.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Annis replied primly, and then she gathered her skirts and hurried back to the castle, the prickling sensation of his bright green eyes following her.

Prince Býleistr & Hrothwyn, picrew-style

“I wouldn’t go there, my lady. River-wights scrape their nails beneath the ice of the Weeping River, clawing their way back to the realm of the living.”

“Do you actually believe such things?”