By: Alyza Van Tassel
Inspired by Tim Burton's 1999 film, "Sleepy Hollow,"
and Washington Irving's original tale.
All suggestions welcome. Please do not
sue me, this is just MY version of the story!!!!!!, and I am certainly not
profiting in any way by this, other than having the pleasure of knowing that
other people will read and like my writing. Please ask me for permission before
using this story anywhere and do not plagiarize, or I'll chop your head off like
a tulip! :) Hee hee, I'm kidding…but don't you DARE copy without permission! (If
you ask me to let you put it on your site or something, I'm pretty sure I'll say
yes…but ASK first! K? PLEEEEEASE?? :) (E-mail me at: Alyza_@excite.com) Alyza,
Eliot (as MY character), and all other people who do not appear in the originals
belong to me. A couple of things about the story. No, at first, the Headless
Horseman is not ghastly-looking in the BEGINNING like in the movie (sharp teeth,
I mean) I'll let you know how he changes as the story progresses. K? And
remember..... NO PLAGIARISM!!! Or else!!!
Chapter the Fifth
One of the myriad provinces of Germany, year 1772 (two years after Alyza's "ship mistake")
Alyza looked inside her little storage bag and counted her money for the
fifth time. Nope, not enough.
Some two years had passed since she first
arrived in Germany. She hardly had enough money left to buy a trip back. But she
did have that money. That is, until she got jumped by a few not-so-nice people.
And there went the money, all gone. Alyza, not knowing what to do, scared and
anxious, a fifteen-year old girl who got much more out of a simple trip than she
had bargained for, made her way into the counrtyside. There, she found a tavern
and, all out of ideas, asked to work there. They, to her surprise, admitted her,
and set her to work as a cleaning girl. It was far below what her dignity
allowed, but she had no choice, or she would starve. In a few weeks, she had
worked her way up to being a waitress, then, the headwaitress. Now, she was
seventeen, and the owner's right hand. Life for her was harsh, but she didn't
give up. She had bought a small, run-down cottage a mile or so away, that she
made cozy and nice, as the reminder of her old home. Soon, she'd have enough
money to go back. Of course, it was very nice where she was, as far as
everything besides the work went. The place was beautiful, with rolling hills
and crimson sunsets; but by far the best thing was that no one knew her past.
Alyza hoped her family was doing well, and remembered them frequently. Still,
sadness often overcame her at the thought of her father, and what he had gone
through. Often, she wondered if he would ever forgive her. She had asked him
to...in the letter.
Geoff opened the door of the storage room.
"Alyza?
Hurry up, we have many hungry people here waiting," the tavern owner said.
"Be right there," Alyza yelled up at the stairs. She looked back at her
little money bag and sighed. Then she went upstairs.
Alyza sat down at the bar, thoroughly exhausted, and poured herself a glass
of wine. This was a very hard night, and people didn't even think of going home.
Roxanne, a young waitress whom Alyza found rather annoying, hopped next to her.
"Gosh, I really hope he comes tonight," she chirped excitedly. "He hasn't
been here in two years. Had been on a very long trip, and now...he's coming
back!"
Alyza turned her head slightly. "Who?"
Roxanne shuddered with
delight. "Eliot!"
"Errr.......and who is that?"
"Oh, come now," Roxanne
replied. "Surely you know Eliot. Everyone knows who he is."
Alyza drank down
the glass of wine in a single gulp. "If I knew, I would not be asking."
"He......is only the toughest, most cunning, dark, and handsome
man......warrior.... to ever walk the earth," Roxanne nearly yelped out.
"Oh
yeah, I think I'm melting in my shoes," Alyza retorted sarcastically. She knew
how Roxanne was around all men. This was nothing new.
"I hear he can, with
one hand, pick up an axe that two men can barely carry," Roxanne continued,
while Alyza just sat shaking her head. However, she decided to take some pity on
the girl and drill her for information about this Eliot person.
"Where's he
from?"
"The province of Hesse," Roxanne answered and poured herself a glass.
"So that would make him......Hessian?"
"Yeah.......whatever," Roxanne
said. "He comes in here a lot. Ties his black horse...don't know its
name...outside and just sits and watches." She sighed. "Sadly, I think he's not
gonna be won over by any woman," she then said. "Too enthralled in his job, and
too bored by the plain girls."
"I see," Alyza said. "And do you think
you're--"
"Plain? Hah! I'm far from that....which is why I think I'll get
lucky!!"
Alyza sighed almost inaudibly. This girl was hopeless.
"How old
is he?"
"Twenty years of age, I think," Roxanne said.
Three years older
than Alyza...
"And what does he look like?"
Roxanne did not answer.
Instead, she stared behind Alyza, towards the doorway of the tavern. She beamed
like a lantern. "See for yourself," Roxanne whispered to her, and hurried behind
the bar to straighten out her clothes and hair, leaving her companion alone in
front of the bar.
Alyza turned around and found that the newcomer's gaze
focused on...her. She looked him over. Alyza found that she had no trouble with
staring people straight in the eyes, but this time she had finally met her
match.
He was young, no doubt about it; but still older than Alyza herself.
He was more than six feet tall, and that was TALL, compared to the 5'7" that
Alyza possessed. He was dressed from neck to toe in traditional Stygian armor, a
very thick grayish-black outfit adorned with weapons. This time, though, he only
carried a sword. The weapon was old, Alyza could see, but still well kept;
perhaps it had belonged to his father. A metal snake's...or was it a
dragon's?.... head was mounted on the hilt to make the sword even more
impressive. He wasn't brawny and huge, but Alyza could tell he was very strong.
She looked further up and, from across the room, tried to make out the clear
features of his face. He was clean-shaven, not very wide-jawed, but kind of
angular. His hair was jet black and stood up; not actually spiky, but that sort
of haircut. Otherwise, there was nothing peculiar, nothing misshapen. In fact,
he was indeed quite handsome, as Roxanne had mentioned. Very handsome. But there
WAS something that Alyza stared at, and could not take her eyes off it.
It
was his eyes. Alyza always loved to look in a person's eyes, and see what kind
of personality they had. These kind she had never seen before. His gaze bore
into and through her like wildfire, bringing with it a kind of feeling she had
never previously experienced. They had a hint of brown, but were more like
black, a kind of deep, bottomless, mysterious chasm, that had a hint of
irresistible allure in them that nearly picked her up, three feet off the
ground, into oblivion.
But they were not harsh. They weren't very soft
either, of course... he was a warrior; but they were calm and understanding. And
there was also that sense of adventure that could not be suppressed had he tried
his hardest to do so. Alyza liked that.
She somehow managed to keep a
straight, collected, nonchalant face and air throughout all this. Finally, she
turned around to face Roxanne at the bar. To any third party, it would seem
nothing but a young woman turning around to look at a visitor to the tavern, and
then casually returning to her conversation.
Meanwhile, Eliot looked at her with an equal interest. She looked about
seventeen years of age, with a slim and toned form. Her long blonde hair spilled
down, over her red dress, on the wooden bar. She turned to look at him. Her face
was a bit pale, but oh, so beautiful. He had never looked at a woman in that way
for more than half a minute or so, but he was drawn to, apparently, the same
feature she was regarding at the moment--her eyes. They stood out from the rest
of her. So dark, like two radiant sapphires; bottomless, endless. He wanted to
drown in them---
Eliot snapped back to the cold, harsh reality of the tavern
that surrounded him. The young woman was not looking at him anymore. He found
that strange, considering that most women stared at him until they drooled, in
the very sense of the word. But she just turned around like nothing had
happened. Which added to the appeal.
He sat down slowly at the table next to
the door, far away from the bar, his insticts to watch for potential trouble
never being shut off. The waitress, a young girl named Roxanne, pranced up to
him carrying a rather large goblet of wine.
"It's on the house," she said,
blushing.
He nodded rather blankly, and did not hear her add the name
"sugar" to her previous sentence as she skipped away the same way she
came...towards the bar.
His curiosity finally overpowered his reserve. He
did not know why he was doing this, but he liked it. His boots made soft clanks
on the wooden floor as he made his way to the bar.
Roxanne looked like a
balloon with too much air inside. She was red as a beet and ready to blow.
"Oh my God, my God in Heaven..."
"Quit violating the Second
Commandment," Alyza said. Actually she found herself experiencing a lot
anticipation at his approach.
He sat down next to the pair. That's it,
duck and cover, she's gonna blow, Alyza thought as she cast a quick glance
at Roxanne.
"May I get you anything, Sir Eliot?" Roxanne finally managed to
blurt out as her waitress habit kicked in.
Alyza looked away. Sir Eliot.
Sounds like a sad imitation of a medieval knight, she thought. She liked
the plain name better.
"No," he replied to the anxious Roxanne.
"Oh,"
she said. "Very well. But if there's anyone--anyTHING you need, I'll be at the
bar."
Alyza's shoulders shook with silent laughter. Maybe she should talk to
the guy and ease Roxanne's enduring awkwardness. Nah.
Alyza's eyes were
downcast, not out of modesty, but of the mere fact that she was, despite
herself, looking him over. She looked at the hilt of his sword. Yep, definitely
a dragon's head handle. She realized she had been staring for too long and her
eyes snapped back up. And surely enough, he was looking at her.
She felt her
palms soak with sweat. He was even more handsome up close than she had imagined.
This was beginning to make her rather uncomfortable. Oh yeah, a man is
staring at you and you panic. Nice job, Miss Personality.
Now he spoke.
"Are you all right?" Not his usual way of starting a conversation, but it worked
nonetheless.
'Just peachy,' she wanted to reply, but instead wound up
saying, "I'm very well, thanks." Why was she now watching her words around this
guy? This was making Alyza very annoyed at herself. She looked up at him. His
eyes were curious. Geez, and so nice to look into....
Alyza wanted to smack
herself really badly, but she held her ground and said, "I haven't seen you
around here before."
"I was about to tell you the same," he replied
carefully. Well, what do you know, we're compatible, Alyza thought
sarcastically. Her dry humor was the best way of getting rid of her jitters
around this, or any man. It seemed to work this time too. She was now confident,
or as confident as she could be.
At that moment, Roxanne, unable to contain
herself any longer, appeared out of nowhere between the two bar stools on which
Alyza and Eliot were sitting. Facing Eliot of course. Her short hair seemed to
flutter as she twittered, "You haven't been here in such a long time. Everyone
missed you so!"
I bet, Alyza thought to herself. Somehow, she looked
into his eyes again and realized he was thinking the same thing. She grinned at
him. He flashed her a brillliant smile, showing two rows of perfect white teeth.
He normally did not smile much, but then again, he normally did not walk over to
a strange woman at a bar and started talking to her all of a sudden.
"Yes...." he said to Roxanne. Alyza knew the girl was getting annoying, so
she decided to tactfully shoo her away. "Roxanne, can you get me a drink,
please?" she asked, and the girl nodded and walked off into the wine cellar,
frowning angrily.
It was getting dark quickly. Eliot felt odd that they had exchanged only a
few words, but he had to leave. He stood up and bid the young woman goodbye.
"I still do not know your name," he said as he pushed the bar stool closer
to the bar.
"Alyza," she said.
He nodded. She already knew his
name. Hers was beautiful. He never said a word about it as he walked outside
to his horse.
The summer heat seemed to melt the very trees themselves. Eliot untied his
black stallion and was getting ready to leave. He had visited the tavern almost
every night. He decided not to argue with himself about that. He was about to
mount when he heard a snap of a branch to the left of him in the shadows. In an
instant, following the instinct that he had developed over the years, he drew
his sword like a shaft of lightning and pointed it towards the attacker.
"Step out where I can see you," he said. His voice was dangerous, low,
darkly menacing.
Alyza stepped out. "Relax, it is only I," she replied,
giving him her best innocent smile.
He slowly put the weapon back into its
holster. "You should not sneak up on people like that," he said. "You could get
hurt."
"I can take care of myself," she answered with a fire in her eyes,
but she was not angry. Alyza walked closer to her companion and his horse.
"Watch it," Eliot said. "He does not react well to strangers." He knew that
the animal reared up on people, so he stood close, ready to get her out of the
way if necessary.
But to his surprise, the horse yielded to her touch. She
patted it gently on the forehead. "I am not afraid of your steed any more than I
am afraid of you," she said with a smirk and a sly grin. Inside, she wondered
how much she should be afraid of him.
"What is his name?" she asked
Eliot, who looked perplexed at the fact that the horse did not react to her.
"Daredevil," he responded.
"You sure are handsome," she said, looking at
the horse. Eliot wondered for a moment if she was talking to him. But no. The
horse it is. Man, the way HE had been thinking lately, he really wanted to take
a cold bath and get these obscene ideas from his mind. But did he WANT to? That
was the question... He ran a hand through his spiky black hair and decided to
answer that later.
"I always wished I had a horse of my own," Alyza finally
said. "When I was young."
Eliot smiled. "And now that you're OLD, you do not
want one anymore?"
It took her a second or two to realize he was being
facetious. She still had not grown used to him, especially after all the
serioius stuff Roxanne had blabbed in her ear about him. She wondered if she
really should be cautious. But, scratch that. She was used, by now, to being
cautious around everyone she met.
Alyza pulled the collar of her sleek blue
dress tighter around her thin neck. "It's getting late," she told Eliot. "They
shall be expecting me inside."
He nodded slowly and walked to his horse.
Eliot silently bade farewell with a gesture as he mounted. The bridle was still
warm from where her hands had touched it while she was petting the horse. He
held, rather gripped it in his own hands until it got too chilly and he
had to put on his cloak and gloves.
The moon shone brightly above him as he
rode away, leaving the drunken songs of revelry in the tavern, and Alyza, behind
him. Eliot stared ahead into the distance, to the path that lay before him. The
black stallion which he rode made a noise that sounded like a weary sigh, a soft
whoosh of air. Eliot sighed as well. He turned his head back, his short black
hair being blown up every which way by the wind. What was this feeling he had?
Surely not nostalgia? Lust? What?
But no, this could not be lust. Lust, he
knew, was for power and bodily pleasures. But not for the soul. He, in all his
years, had never felt anything of this nature. It was the person of Alyza
that he longed for. It was her conversation, her mind, the sharing of her
spirit. Still, he could not fathom how this all came to pass. Could he ever
feel...? Why not? He was a human being, like Alyza. He, despite himself, desired
her friendship, her companionship. But would she feel the same?...
Eliot
shook his head, as though to clear it from cobwebs, and watched, from far away,
the young woman disappear into the tavern. He had not realized that she had been
watching him as well.
He shook his head once more and urged the steed in the
direction of the open plain.