The Meeting

She felt his presence in the shadows behind her. Her slender fingers wrapped around the dagger Dorin had gifted her a few months prior. For protection, he had laughed. Now it was securely strapped to her waist, blade hidden within the confines of her skirts. The dress was stolen from a servant in the castle. The thick makeup was smeared across her eyes, although there was no real point to hiding her identity. Atarah had never ventured outside the castle before now, and she had never been socially presented to the world. She was invisible. Sixteen years' worth of invisible.

As the shadows quietly stirred giving away the man’s presence, she contemplated her escape options. She had noticed him within the bar. His dark mysterious eyes trailing her unsure movements. From the dark corner booth, he watched.

In the dark alley, his warm hand grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, pulling Notuna from its holster. She mustered the strength to hold the blade. Her hands trembled as she pointed the tip of the blade at his throat. She narrowed her eyes at him, staring deep into his black abyss.

“Let go of me,” she breathed, forcing the fear from her voice. His lifted his brows and lifted his hands in the air defensively. Then he laughed. A deep rumble that shattered her world. His lips curled up into a vicious grin she wished to hold in her memory forever. His tanned skin melted her. Breathing deeply Atarah just stared at the man, her blade trembling.

The stranger stopped laughing. The grin remained on his face, lighting up her universe. Her eyes softened. In one swift motion, he disarmed her and held the blade loosely in his own fingers. She watched his veined hands playfully flip the dagger.

“What’s your name?” His voice was deep. She blinked, swallowing. She shifted her eyes to the ground thinking. She was the princess, but she could not tell anyone that. If word got out that the princess was wandering the streets of Draydon dressed as a commoner, her father would skin her.

“Is it a difficult one?” He teased. Her eyes shot toward him.

“Does my name matter?” She whispered. She backed away slightly, looking at the rooftops of the tavern she had just left. Sitting on the roof was a single raven, its black feathers gleaming in the moonlight.

“Darling, to me your name would mean the world.” He grinned.

“Raven,” she responded quickly smiling to herself. She tucked a long strand of black hair behind her ear.

“Raven.” He spoke her name as if devouring it, tasting the letters as they coated his tongue. “First outing in Draydon?” Atarah quickly crossed her arms.

“No.” He laughed at her response. He spun her dagger around once more before holding the blade. He stretched his hand out, returning her dagger.

“You should be more careful. The shadows of Draydon are frightening.” With that the stranger turned to disappear back into the darkness.

“Shadows are only frightening if the dark frightens you,” she mused, staring at her dagger. The stranger stopped in his tracks. Her heart began pounding. He spun on his heels quickly closing the distance between them. He only stopped when she could feel his breath on her skin. She had not realized his height. She tilted her chin up, losing herself in the darkness of his eyes. With her free hand she gently touched the small silver necklace her mother had given her on her birth year. A silver heart locket, meant to give her hope. Though every cell in her body told her to remain quiet she tilted her head to the side.

“Does the dark frighten you?” She breathed into the space between them. This time he did not smile.

“No.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have lived in the darkness for many years, nothing left to be feared.” This time Atarah smiled lightly.

“Does it frighten you?” He whispered. She chuckled lightly to herself. Her face softened as she watched his reaction.

“No. One cannot fear their home.” His brows tilted upward as she spoke. She watched his eyes glance toward her exposed wrists. Quickly she moved her hands behind her back, hiding the open wounds her father had given her just hours prior. Once more his eyes met her own. Atarah felt her breath leave her chest. For what felt like an eternity, Atarah just stared at the stranger. Neither of them spoke.

“If you wish, Raven, I could show you how to use that beautiful blade you carry. In case one day the dark does frighten you.” He spoke so softly she thought she heard him incorrectly.

“Do strangers often offer to help girls alone in dark alleys?” She tried lifting the tension, feeling an unfamiliar heat rising within her.

“Theodore.”

“Theodore.” She repeated holding onto each syllable.

“Now we are no longer strangers.” This time she grinned wildly. “I will be here again tomorrow, if you wish to accept my offer, I will see you then. However, if you decide to decline, you will break my heart and I will forever hold onto the image of the marvelous young woman with emeralds for eyes and shadows for hair.” He stroked her cheek. She resisted the urge to lean into his warm touch. This time when he turned to walk away, he did not look back. Theodore simply disappeared into the dark alley, returning to D’s Tavern.