The Red Ribbon

She looked to the window, sorrow creasing her brow as the rain continued to banter it's never ending drumbeat upon the glass, so close, her cheek pressed to the chilled panes as she waited, wanting, looking, ever desperate for a sign.

It was no ordinary day, none by far as any would have of their own standard. No... He would come to her this day...

A scarlet red ribbon tied about her slender throat, so silken, stark against bare flesh, the ends curling just below her full breasts, leaving a crimson swath to decorate her milky flesh. The bow was small, delicate, as if tied by a child's hands. Yet, was she not a child in many ways? The ribbon sat snug just below the small strip of metal about her neck, words engraved upon its surface, boldly, proudly, this was worn of her own choice. She had given herself to him. And he would come to take her...

Sounds drifted through the house, argument, a fist slamming the oak table, her Mother's curses to her father of why. Why had their child been selected? Why where they coming for her little girl? Why had her father bartered with them using the innocent flesh of a mere girl, somewhere between a woman and a child in innocence?

The ribbon was a gift, his gift, and she could not help but love him for this simplicity in act. She loved him, wholly and without regard, without thought in her precious mind of why. Only that his form, the memory of him so large, masculine, clad in the dark robes of his choosing that were pressed against her own not two days past as he slipped the metal about her neck. The metal she had asked for...

So cold the was the rain, chilling the glass, chilling her very being as she waited, the rain drowning out the sounds of the house about her. Waiting for him. Remembering that first meeting.

Innocence knows nothing of the troubles in the world, innocence filled of laughter, playing, swimming in the pond not far from the main road. Sunning of supple flesh, drying, self-realization of need, her fingers dancing over flesh in discovery. A shadow looming, it was him above her... His smile that turned like the edge of a sharp knife, bringing fear, yet... something else to burn within her. He kneeled, his hand resting between her breasts, holding her still. A kiss, his body smelling of leather and musk, of the horseflesh he rode. That single kiss to alight what she knew to be true... Need.

She slipped up to her knees before him, her head tilting to press hot lips against his inner thigh as he stood. Fingers through her hair, and he was gone, leaving only the red ribbon tied delicately through her hair.

She saw him again, that same day coming from her home. Her father running out to scold her for being late, or so she thought, when instead, he was telling her to run. Smoke... The barn burning, men gathered about it laughing, the scream of horses... But him, he was there. He came to her once more and the band of silver about her neck locked tight. He would return for his payment, a debt owed by her father.

She knew not his name, nor what he was, only he a man, so strong, so bold to bring fear within her, exhilaration, and love. To be owned by him. The ribbon adorned in her hair pulled, tied delicately about her neck, as if she were a gift to be had, carefully unwrapped for his eyes, his pleasure.

Only now. the coldness outside, the steaming smoke from the barn. She waited for him, longed for him. his voice unheard to her. His touch, so memorable...

A dark figure rides from the road, water splashing under hooves before halting at the door. A shout... Dismounting before heavy foot falls crash upon the stairs, screams of the women frightened. Her door opened. Warmth, pulled away from the cold glass and the rain. He was there. He had come for her. His voice then, rough, ragged, yet smooth as silk in baritone. His voice softly whispering her name as if it were a caress upon her body. Whispering her place as he pulled her bare body to him, whispering the truth of her love as the world became black, darkness, past forgotten, future ignored. Only now, only to feel him against her, holding her, the leather, the musk, the horseflesh... He had come to take her, to make her whole.