This is a work of fiction. All characters are over eighteen years of age.
Drusilla clutched the vial to her ample chest as she fled the wise-woman's hovel. At last! The potion she had been promised by the hag for her months of servitude was hers! And soon the handsome stable hand would be as well!
Drusilla was in a precarious position. Her parents having died of the plague, she was now fair game for the village lads until one spoke up and claimed her. And the lad most likely was Groth, the local bully, whom she detested. He was an ignorant lout.
Andrew the stable hand however, was a different story. Drusilla pined for him as did all the girls in town. Dark wavy hair, piercing blue eyes, muscular shoulders, he was physically perfect, but painfully shy. No one had heard him speak to a female, ever, even with men he mumbled and whispered.
But now Drusilla had a love potion! She had indentured herself to the wise-woman for a year, mostly to give herself time to escape the other men and to plot. As long as she was thus employed she was safe, no one was stupid enough to cross a witch, even Groth. Her plan was perfect. She would give the potion to Andrew, and love would power his speech henceforth!
The old crone's warning was clear, Andrew must drink at least half the potion, before the moon set tonight, or the liquid would be useless. Drusilla had hours left to spare but she wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, the waiting was torture! She sped into the village, long gold hair streaming behind her, intent on her task.
She spied the stables ahead and her heart leapt in her chest, Andrew was out in the stable-yard, talking to someone... Oh no! Her heart sank as rapidly as it had risen; the other man was Groth! Of all the terrible luck! The men had seen her, there was nothing else for it but to continue forward! She quickly hid the vial in the folds of her dress.
"Hello Andrew!" Drusilla called flirtatiously, ignoring Groth completely. She was acting as normally as she could, she knew Groth would pounce on any suspicious behavior from her. She wanted him to keep thinking she was the wise-woman's servant for now. She was relying on Groth's idiocy, keeping track of the date was beyond him.
Groth scowled at her, twisting his harsh features further. He stormed off towards his hut, giving her a last evil look over his shoulder. Drusilla shuddered, turned to Andrew. He was bright red and looking anywhere but at her.
"Andrew, will you listen to what I have to say? I won't ask you to look at me or even say a word, just listen, please." Drusilla's voice was imploring, her posture desperate. She explained her situation to the handsome stable hand, how at any time Groth could legitimately ask for her hand as she was now an orphan, how she had worked for a year for this solution, that if he but drank the potion love would allow him the boldness he wanted.
"It must be done before moon-set for the magic to work. I'll leave the vial here, I must return to the hag. Please Andrew, drink the potion and come to me!" Drusilla pressed the glass into his hands, tried once more to look into his eyes and left.
Later, the moon sinking in the sky. Drusilla was pacing outside the wise-woman's place, peering into the darkness, hoping to see Andrew's approach. The door opened behind her and the witch bustled past. "Don't worry, dearie, your man's on his way. I'd stay and watch but I don't want to. And relax, things will work out in the end." With that she scuttled away into the gloom.
The clouds parted and Drusilla saw not one but two figures approaching, it sounded as if it was two grown men bickering like an old married couple. As they drew near she saw both Andrew and Groth! They were arguing over something, not even looking where they were going.
