Hansel and the Witches Brother chapter 1

Patches of sun were scattered across the ground as the light broke through the thick forest canopy. Hansel stepped lightly down his well-worn path through the forest, his gaze scanning the scenery for any sign of movement. Bow in hand, arrows on his back and ready at a moments notice, he sank into the peaceful awareness and focus that only hunting could bring him. Peace that often eluded him.

It had been over ten years since they had escaped from the wicked witch. Returning to their parents had been a celebration. However, as the years had passed and their story retold, Gretel had become the hero of the story while Hansel fell into the role of victim, the weak brother who had needed saving from his sister. Other boys in the village had bullied him for his weakness. The girls showed him no interest, preferring the boys who tormented him. But worst of all was Gretel, who grew to adore the attention and praised lavished on her, and who spoke to and of Hansel more and more as a child, not as an equal.

Hansel continued looking around for any sign of game. He took his time, there was never any rush to return home. Gretel had married one of her adoring suitors and moved out, while his parents had since passed away from sickness. Most of the house was full of drying meats and fur, from which he made a living. Even before the witch, everyone knew that the forest held unknow dangers, and few ventured more than a days journey in. Hansel found refuge from his tormentors in the forest, and ever since the witch had never come across another living thing besides the animals he hunted. So he found his role as one of the few who dared to explore the unknown woods.

Hansel stilled, not daring to take a breath. Far in the distance, a family of deer walked single file between the trees. He fitted an arrow in his quiver, and began to move closer, each step deliberate and careful. He moved off the path, keeping behind trees as he focused his pace just a little faster than theirs.

One meticulous hour later, Hansel was finally close enough. He took one step out to take aim, the deer he had targeted looked up. It was in the process of turning around when his arrow went into its side. It pitched to its side and fell, a perfect shot. The other deer scattered, leaping and bounding away through the trees. He approached the fallen deer, who was gasping and moaning on its side, and with his hunting knife quickly ended it.

There, he said to the deer, now at peace, you shouldn’t suffer needlessly. No one should.

He stood up. The deer was a bit bigger than he had anticipated. It would take effort to carry it all the way back, but the hide would make quite a piece of leather. Hansel looked around to take in his bearings. He had been so focused on tracking he had walked quite distance from the trail. As he turned to find the sun, the wind blew across his face and he froze. He took another inhale, then another. And another.

He was miles from the village, yet he could smell something in the air. Something fresh and warm….and sweet.

Hansel’s heart began to race. Quickly, he threw a rope over a nearby branch and hoisted the deer up by its ankles. Tying it off, he grabbed a fresh arrow and fitted it into his bow. Then he followed his nose.

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The first thing Hansel saw was the sunlight reflecting off the pure white frosting on the roof. As he stalked closer, gingerbread walls solidified themselves from the general brownness of the forest, and bright colors separated into large sweets that dotted the house in artistic patterns. Hansel kept to the thick brush of the forest as he approached the colorful nightmare of his youth.

The gingerbread house looked the same as it did all those years ago. However, there was a barn in the clearing that had not been there before, and a garden surrounded by a wooden fence. There was a new well near the house, and a windmill spinning above it.  A column of smoke rose from the chimney to curl up to the sky. Hansel glanced around but could see no other signs of life.

“Hi there.”

Hansel jumped backward, bounced off something large and soft, and fell to the ground. Only instinct made him land on his bow without breaking it. He whipped his head around to see a giant bearded man in standing behind him. Two heads taller than Hansel, his wild brown hair was in contrast to his carefully braided brown beard which reached the top of his expansive chest. He wore a simple white shirt and leather vest with chest hair poking out near the top. Both garments were tucked into massive leather pants, and it was all held back by a leather belt with a buckle in the shape of a bee bigger than hansels hand. The man carried a barrel under each arm, both of which failed to stick out past the mans enormous belly.

The man gazed down at Hansel, a twinkle in his eye. “You sure are a jumpy little rabbit, ain’t cha?” His voice was deep and gruff.

“Sir!” Hansel scrambled to his feet, “Sir we must be quiet!” he gestured over his shoulder, “This is the lair of the wicked witch, and I fear that another witch, or something worse, has taken up residence within her house made of Gingerbread. We must leave at once or we stand risk of being eaten.” Hansel reached up to the mans elbow, and made to steer him away. The man failed to budge. Instead, he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“Sir,” Hansel hushed,  “please be quiet.”

The man’s laughter settled to a chuckle, “That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard in a long time. Not to mention the only joke I’ve heard in a long time.” Still chuckling, he bumped Hansel with his belly, and nodded his head. “Well, we best go and meet the rascal who’s set up shop in the old witch’s lair.”

The man took off, breaking through the treeline into the clearing. Hansel caught his breath, and watched the man walk up to the house, set one of his barrels down, and knock hard several times against the door. Hansel heart was jumping into his throat as the man turned the knob and ducked his head under the awing and entered. The door remained open, and Hansel waited for any sign of life. A few minutes past, then the man reappeared; ducking his head again and calling out, “Well, are you coming in or what?”

Hansel’s jaw fell open. Then, glad the man could not see his face flush, slowly stood up and cautiously approached the house. Fighting back a multitude of feelings, he set his bow on one of the barrels, and looked inside.

The same room. The same room he had been locked in a cage in, watching Gretel sweep and scrub the same floor he walked on now. But it was different. There was the fireplace, the iron door gone and a cheerful fire crackling in the hearth. A long ornate wooden shelf lined the far wall, full of pots, jars, wooden spoons, and other necessities. A wooden table was across the room from the hearth, with several wooden chairs large and wide enough to support the man tucked up next to it. A large rocking chair was near the hearth, next to a small table that held a knife and some whittled figures. Through a door in the wall, Hansel could see the corner of a wide wooden bed. With the wide sugar pane windows letting in plenty of sunlight, it was both the nightmare room of his childhood, as well as cozy little cottage.

“Welcome,” the man swept his arms, “To my humble home. Make yourself comfortable.” Hansel took a few slow steps forward, looking around for any sign of danger.

“Settle down, little rabbit. Nothing’s gonna jump out and eat ya.” The man set the barrel down on the wooden table. Grabbing two mugs from the shelves, he stuck a spout in the barrel and turned it on its side. He filled both mugs, and held one up for Hansel. “Would you like some mead?”

Still nervous, Hansel was aware that it had been many hours since he drank anything. He accepted the mug gratefully. The man drank from his own, never taking his eyes off Hanzel.

“So,” The man set his mug down, “How exactly are you responsible for my sisters death?”

Hansel choked into his mug and came up gasping for air. The man came over and pounded on his back with his massive hand, which only made Hansel cough harder. The man steered Hansel to a chair until he caught his breath.

“How…how do you know that?”

“Well, I have some clues, but your reaction confirmed it.” The man sat in the wide chair without so much as a creak. “This house is more than just candy, its enchanted. My sister was not a people person, so unless you’ve been to this house before, you shouldn’t be able to find it.”

Hansel took another drink as the man continued.

“Then it was just a matter of putting the pieces together. The only ones who could approach her house were children, and since those children never left there should be no one who can see this house. Yet you did, which means you were a child when you first saw this house, and since the only way you can still be alive is that you are the reason I found her old remains in that iron oven of hers.” He drank deeply from his mug, “Am I wrong?”

Hansel’s heart was hammering in his chest. The mead must have gone straight to his head, for he found himself quickly summarizing not only the last time he was in this house, but the way his life has unfolded ever since. Draining his first mug, and half of his second, Hansel ended in a silence that echoed off the walls of the cottage, broken only by the light cackling of the fireplace.

The man sat silently in his massive wooden chair, hands folded in his lap, his gaze relaxing on Hansel. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Sounds like that has been on your chest for a long time.”

Hansel didn’t reply, he just tightened the grip on his mug. He took a deep drink as the man continued.

“Well,” the man cracked his neck side to side, “There is one thing that I have always wanted to say to my sisters killer.”

Hansel was powerless. His legs had gone weak, and he had collapsed into one of the enormous chairs. The man stood up, his head frighteningly close to the ceiling. In two steps, he towered over Hansel, who recognized he was not a hunter anymore. There was a moment, and then the man fell to the floor to wrap himself around Hansel, hugging him tightly.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!!!!!”

Hansel had no idea what was happening, but he did know he needed to breath. He slapped the part of the man he could reach. The man backed up and pressed his face against Hansel, his beard enveloping Hansel as he kissed him.

“Oh you have NO idea how grateful I am for that wicked bitch is dead!” The man pulled back, and placed his hands on either side of Hansels face to gaze into his eyes. “Thank you for the bottom of my heart.” The man’s gaze shifted, and he seemed to stare deeper into Hansel. “And it seems I know exactly how to say thank you.” The man moved forward to kiss Hansel again, but this was deep and passionate, his tongue exploring Hansels mouth.

Hansel pulled back, “Sir! I-“

“A queen bee will have multiple sexual partners at one time, to fulfil her role of increasing the number of her hive,” The man had bent down to scoop Hansel up into his arms. “Her drive must therefore be high in order to keep up with her demand.” Leaning his head down, he ducked as he walked them into the bedroom.