HER DIAMONDS

And I don't know what I'm supposed to do
But if she feels bad then i do too

Come nightfall, they had reached another desperate town in need of their expertise. Prior to leaving Augsburg, they had received word from a shy courier boy of fourteen whom, Hansel noted, had too much of an eye for his sister. Of course, he could empathise with the stumbling teenager; his sister was beautiful, more than really and he couldn't, for the love of their dear Mother, see it as anything but a curse.

He wished Gretel wasn't beautiful, for it would be far easier if she weren't. He hoped for a time he could look upon his sister and worry not for the eyes of others considering the depth of his gaze; his eyes betraying him with the things he shouldn't feel.

Even now, alone as they were, Hansel felt an overwhelming sense of self-loathing as he watched his sister too closely as she undressed. He sat atop the bed large enough for two but too small to allow space between, while his eyes feasted on how the moonlight bathed her skin in a curiously warm light, that it sparkled as if she were crafted of the finest porcelain. There were many reasons all declared her beautiful and this was one of them. The sight of her alone was an oasis nestled within the deserts of the world, a kiss from God on a seemingly harsh terrain.

Just as he went on to marvel at the rest of her, Gretel pulled the clean tunic from his pack and onto her body before removing her boots and leather trousers. With his eyes still on her, she found her own pack and began rummaging through it until, Hansel noticed, she came to a sudden halt, having found something of note within the satchel.

The elder sibling stood from his seat on the mattress and approached her. "Gretel?" He called her name once, then twice more until she finally turned to him. In her hands, he saw Muriel's wand, the honey-coloured gemstone glowing ominously with the magic held within it's new owner. Hansel's eyes found his sister's face as her own fluttered open, and her brother recognised the look in them. Gretel was masterful at portraying her emotions with but a single glance, once she had permitted herself to feel them. In this, along with the tear that fell, Hansel knew she had not permitted it. His mouth twitched at the corners to see it, to realise it. In this look there were a few choice emotions he had expected but hoped she'd never feel.

If Hansel wanted one thing from his sister, it was for her not to hide herself from him, not to pretend she had a heart of stone, as If she could not hurt. Gretel was just as mortal as he; she had emotions, had a heart: one coveted by the evil they hunt. Now, Hansel observes, with grief of his own, how it breaks before them both.

"You've had it for a while," stated Hansel, breaking the silence neither realised had grown uncomfortable.

Gretel nodded softly, "I had forgotten." she replied, a stream of tears threatening to fall.

He didn't require an explanation, knowing what she meant just as the words left her mouth - she had forgotten what she was; what she always had been. Despite not having discussed their newly acquired knowledge, Hansel held no qualms with the truth of it. Gretel, however, cursed their mother for ever birthing her; for entrusting their family's magical lineage in the one daughter who fought against it; whose life was solely based on the pursuit of eradicating the very same witchery from the world.

Hansel too knew this, but he wouldn't force her hand this time either, to confess it. So, he bide his time, waiting for her as he always had. Some, perhaps most, would have given up by now. There really was no reason for them to continue this life, claiming their craft was hunting witches whenever asked by the rare few unfamiliar with the story tied to their names. Although, pitiful as it may be, it was all they knew, all they'd ever feel comfortable with knowing.

He couldn't leave Gretel, find a wife and raise a family like any other man. Could he forget her, was he able? A world without her was a world without warmth, without the guiding light of the sun, the moon and the stars. Such was what she meant to him, and furthermore the world. Hansel imagined it, a world without his sister was a world in afterthought seemed much like darkness, void of the reasons he had now for living. It was not a world he cared to endure, for he had already tasted it, the forbidden fruit, the woman his sister was beneath the weight of their blood relation.

They were far past the point of caring how sinful and wicked their deeds were to the so-called righteous peoples of the world. The siblings risk their lives day by day to protect this wretched place they call home, who are these obsessive hate-mongers to condemn them for seeking the solace they so rightfully deserve, regardless of it's source? No one worthy of note, thought Hansel. So seek, was what they did.

Suddenly, Gretel's body began to quiver in her brother's arms, forcing him to pull back, searching her face before she roughly pulled his lips to hers, kissing him with all the same passion that induced her tears, as if she were trying to invest it in something other than crying.

Before he had a chance to ponder being affronted by the kiss, his arms subconsciously tightened themselves around her body, holding her as she clung to him in need. He returned the kiss in kind, mimicking her zest, but with another confessional that he loved her.

It felt to Gretel that he had been waiting each day since their last nightly excursion to be able to kiss her again, and to kiss her this way. She had waited just as long to be kissed, to know such love she had previously thought was forbidden to her. Unlike most women, she could not have stolen a kiss, if it pleased her so. For the most part, her stature of "the famous witch hunter" did promise she got what she pleased, provided it was in the realm of reason. She was denied even the most humble of caresses of a lover; one without cause simply because of the cruel circumstances. It was not an entirely passive gesture that she had elected not to do so, she had always thought it easier to not know what was lacking in her life. Until her fateful twentieth birthday, when she had almost allowed a mere stable boy to seize her virtue before her big brother came to claim what they both knew had always been his.

After seeing that the boy got what he was due, with a few cracked ribs here or there, they fell naked into bed together for the first time, where everything had gone soft: his lips, her lips, her heart. All were aflutter in an instant.

Hansel felt the movement of her lips wane and he reluctantly pulled back. Gretel smiled weakly then, lost in the world of her memory. Certainly there was a great deal more magic than she acknowledged in the world, and he felt it too.

The decision had been made far beyond the point of turning back. His hands were relieving her body of his tunic before either could think better of it. Her lips were as soft, and full as calming as the desert moon against his own. They were on the bed and he, between her legs, when Gretel urged him on, tilting her head upwards to retrieve his affections before he descended her body, seeking her core.

He took longer in readying her body for his than usual, prolonging the pleasure she needed to numb everything else. Soon, he was suspended over her, his eyes already lit with the kind of fire that only imminent lovemaking can bring. Gretel clenched every muscle she had control over in anticipation, unsure exactly what she was hoping to obtain this time but knowing, and knowing only in the specific moment her brown eyes penetrated the blue in his own, that it was what she wanted - and needed.

And then it happened.

The siblings' eyes and bodies were locked. They swayed together, propelled by an ancient rhythm that urged them to move. Despite how silly she felt for thinking it, Gretel felt that she was reaching into Hansel's soul as he reached deeper into his sister than she'd ever previously been explored. He rained kisses and fevered whispers of love onto her, his lips touching whatever they could reach. She tried to return his professions of fidelity and eternity, but all that escaped her was a primal moan.

As soon as it started, or so it seemed, it ended. They grew increasingly frantic, increasingly frenzied, and then on a white-hot wave of pleasure, it was over. Hansel leaned onto his elbows, hovering over her, proving to her he regret nothing the last few minutes held, and that she shouldn't either.

Though she had finally broken this night, Hansel hoped now that Gretel would regain that twinkle within her eyes, the subtle way that she smiled and could communicate nothing with words, but volumes within them. He hoped that she would let him love her the way only he could.

She'll be alright
Just not tonight