Giles' Keeper

I lay awake, listening to the faint sounds of the fire as it crackled in the other room. I can’t make out Papa’s rocker or his snores. My eyes turn to stare out into the darkened sky, the storm having kept over the farm all day. He hasn’t spoken another word to me. I’ve tried to apologize, to make amends, plead with him- anything. He couldn’t even be bothered to look at me, staring at the fire as he sharpened his hatchet.

He refused to eat, I’m sure his bowl of stew sits long forgotten by his chair. Do I dare go check on him? I worry my lip as I lay still, once more straining to hear any sort of sound. The rain hasn’t stopped, let up barely, even now I hear it methodically pelting the tin roof. It’s so steady, normally I’d find it soothing, but I can’t, nothing has been able to calm my aching heart. I should go check on Papa.

Pushing the door open slowly, I listen to the silence and frown as I peek around the corner to see his chair abandoned. My eyes darted up to the coat rack, finding his cloak missing as well as the lantern- all of his weapons are gone, his boots missing. Where did he go? Why did he take all of his weapons? I frown as I move freely outside of my room looking around, his bowl of stew sits by his chair, not touched, the spoon forgotten on the floor.

Why did he leave in the night? I glance towards Mable’s stall, squinting through the light and into the darkness. I can barely make out her door swinging in the wind, my gut heaves. What is he doing? Suddenly I feel a sense of dread so powerful it has me dressing in as many layers as I can manage and gathering my own weapons. Would he threaten Giles? He was so mad, I don’t want to believe Papa would do something like that.

He’s never been a violent man, only raised his hand to swat me on the behind when I’ve misbehaved. And that was a rare occasion, especially after Momma left. Today was something I’ve never seen before. He’s not thinking clearly. Being alone right now makes my mind wander to some dark places. I need to go tell Giles.

Papa was shocked that I knew his name. Isn’t it normal to know his name? Habit has me grabbing my weapons belt, hatchet and quivers before I grab my bow. I glance around for my owl friend, frowning as I don’t see him. It is awfully nasty out. It’s impossible to see very far with the heavy rain, the wind continues to whip around, whistling through the trees as the storm rages on.

I debate staying here in the safety of the cabin but my gut twists into tight and uncomfortable knots. It doesn’t feel right to stay home. The rain pelts me, almost instantly it soaks through my clothes as I head into the woods. The trail offers brief covering with tree canopies, blocking the rain intermediately. I pick up my pace as I move towards the cavern, my anxiety rising.

The wind teases my cheeks, stroking a brief dry patch in the rain and I know Giles is awake, waiting for me. He must know how much I’ve messed up. My stomach churns again, knotting painfully. The clearing opens up, the rain softening to a heavy mist as I climb the muddy grass, the tall stalks wilted under the heavy weight of the rain.

‘Your tears hurt me my sweet.’ Giles’ voice drifts lazily on the wind as I near the cavern stopping away from its shelter.

“He’s never been so mad with me.” I can’t bear to look into the darkness, afraid of him seeing my shame.

‘Don’t stand in the rain my sweet, come into the shelter, I don’t want you sick.’ He offers gently, smoke drifts into the clearing, torn through by the falling rain. I walk inside, just past the wet floor, sitting down with my knees drawn up to my chest.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to tell him your name- it just came out.” Every time Papa called Giles an it or thing it broke my heart, made my heart hurt and anger churn my belly confused.

‘Edgar has never been fond of his role as Keeper.’ Giles admits, warmth seeps from the cavern, creeping over my chilled form.

“Why? Why is he so hateful towards the role?” I ask, feeling hurt. Papa has never acted so aggressively. Giles doesn’t respond, he releases a heavy breath, the clouds intricate pattern distracting me for a moment. “He visited you some time ago- didn’t he?”

‘He did.’ He agrees softly, making me turn to look further into the darkness. It’s the closest I’ve been to him, furthest I’ve been into the cavern even.

“What did he want?” I stare at my feet, feeling myself start to tremble from the cold.

‘Collect some wood my sweet, you are frozen… I will tell you all you need to know soon enough.’ He hums softly, his voice drifts through the darkness in a low seductive caress.

“Why? It’s all wet from the storm.” I offer quietly, rubbing at my arms. The ground rumbles in a soft chuckle.

‘Find the wood my sweet and I’ll take care of the rest, I promise.’ He assures me, the wind teases my cheeks as it drifts strongly through the clearing, whipping the wet stalks around in the storm. This clearing has always been so gentle, yet today it feels as if a thick cloudy has descended upon the farm and here.

“I’ll be as quick as I can… I’m sure I’ll be able to find you a meal today… I’m sorry.” I fret nervously as I glance behind me towards Giles. I want to see his eyes… I want to see him. The one time I have seen his eyes has left me craving them again and again. They were sharp and interesting, seductive in color, erotic in how they stared me down, unafraid to meet mine. I wonder what he looks like.

If he is as handsome as his voice sounds. My thoughts make me blush as I head back out to the weather, having removed my bow and quiver I traverse the woods easier. ‘I will survive tonight without a meal. I’m more worried about you this eve.’ Hidden under the coverage of the trees I try to rush to find wood in any sense to bring back to the cavern. Maybe he is cold too…

The thought has me frowning as I collect as much wood as my arms can carry before I rush as fast as I can back to the shelter of the cavern. This weather is awful. “Is this enough? Or should I try to get more?” I ask, dropping the gathered material down to start breaking it apart into something more manageable.

‘More than enough my sweet.’ He assures me. ‘Build it as if you’re making a fire.’ He hums and I want to laugh, shaking my head amused.

“How is this to catch? I have no match, nor kindling, this is just a mess of soaked twigs and bark.” Giles chuckles as a draft of air starts to circulate into the cavern, warm humidity drifts towards the pile of wood, as if drying it off. I stare in wonder, blinking rapidly in confusion. Have I lost my mind? More?

‘Have faith in me, I’ll take care of you this eve my sweet.’ He assures me gently, the wind continues to drift through the cavern, circulating the warmth from its depths back to the wood. It’s mysterious how it works and drifts through the stone walls. I blink and there’s a spark of warmth as a dull thud sounds, the wood splinters in front of me and a dark spot appears beneath the harsh crackling of the fire.

“Oh my- how did- what?” I stutter leaning back from the flames as they reach greedily, licking the air, stealing the added oxygen from the airflow currently circulating through the walls. Giles laughs at my confusion, amused with my response.

‘You are so shocked my sweet. Did you think I could do no such thing of magic?’ I flush, shaking my head as I sit back, stretching my arms towards the heat of the flames.

“I’ve never seen magic before… Not that I thought of you as a liar.” I’m quick to assure him as I glance out towards the clearing watching the storm as it eases, the wind picking up, pushing it away from the mouth of the cavern. Just how strong is he? Giles hums, the sound soft and soothing as the floor rumbles and a low growl.

‘You can ask as many questions as you want my soul.’ He offers quietly, I stare at the fire. Where do I even begin?

“What did Papa want?” I ask again as I glance back towards the darkness, something inside of me wants him to open his eyes, to meet my stare once more. His eyes are so pretty. The deep violet eyes paired with the teal colored streaks left me speechless.

‘He was mad that I granted you the honor of Keeper.’ He offered, making me frown.

“Why is he mad that I’m your Keeper?” It’s not like he was able to do it anymore- from the sounds of it, it doesn’t sound like he wanted it in the first place. If anything I could imagine it’d be a relief to no longer be his Keeper.

‘He’s afraid for you. He frets that I will corrupt your mind.’ Glancing at him my brow pinches, lost at his words.

“Corrupt my mind? What does he mean about that?” I huff, rubbing my palms together. Why does Papa not like Giles? “When I said your name- he got very upset. Why?” Doesn’t every Keeper know his name? I can’t imagine Giles would share his story as he has with me.

‘It means we talk openly- there is to be no secret between us as there has been before.’ It takes me a moment to process his words and their meaning.

“You haven’t talked with your Keepers before?” I ask softly, unsure what makes me so different. Hasn’t he used the wind to speak to Papa or Joseph? Someone else?

‘Not as freely as I do with you. I’d share words if something was on my mind, but conversations weren’t had. I had no care to speak with them.’

“Why am I special? I don’t understand.” I shake my head, holding my apron. I play with the loose threads, staring at my hands. The chills that were stabbing at my being receded finally.

‘Clarity will soon be apparent my soul.’ He muses softly, a breath of air dances past me, the heavy scent of smoke teases my nostrils as I lean against the stone wall, staring out into the night, the storm has lessened significantly. The occasional rain drop smacks into the stone as the wind drives the clouds further and further away.

“You speak in riddles Giles.” I huff, the silver rays of the moon overcast within the shadows, barely breaking through the thick clouds. The ground rumbles as he releases a slow laugh.

‘I believe you are once more trying to see a code where there is none.’ I fight a smile as I think back to our first conversation.

“Yet you speak in such a way you make no sense. Are you trying to confuse me? Or am I the fool that knows not of which you speak?” I tease him back, glancing into the darkness. The wind softens as the final drops of rain ease from the clearing, as if the wind was pushing the storm away from us. But that’s just talk of madness.

‘My soul… you are no fool. You are a curious soul, tis not a fool.’ He assures me softly, the wind touches my cheeks, dipping down to stroke over my lower lip in an intimate touch that makes my belly fill with butterflies.