'Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie wither'd,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?

-'Tis the Last Rose of Summer
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)

xXx

Jenny Mills walks through the forest, enjoying the brisk winter air on her face. There is a fresh dusting of snow on the ground, and the crisp leaves underfoot make a satisfying crunch as she walks.

She's on her feet all evening in the inn where she works, yet she still enjoys a hike through the forest when she can snatch up an extra hour to do so. She looks up at the bare branches of the trees, swaying overhead, skeletal silhouettes against the gray sky.

A twig snaps to her left, and she stills, training her eyes in the direction of the sound. It could be a rabbit. Or it could be a wolf. Until she knows which it is, she will remain silent and still. There is a rustling amongst the underbrush, and Jenny decides it is a rabbit. She pulls a sling from her bag and finds a stone, still moving silently. If her aim is true, and it usually is, she will return home with dinner for her sister and herself.

She waits until the rabbit shows itself, with the patience she learned from Mr. Corbin, the man who took Abbie and her in after their parents died. She can hear his deep voice in her head as she steadies her slingshot. "Patience can mean the difference between eating and going hungry, Jenny."

The rabbit appears, and Jenny releases the stone. It pegs the creature square on the head, stunning it. She runs over and snags the rabbit, deftly breaking its neck before placing it in the canvas bag she has slung over her shoulder. As she stands, she sees something she's never noticed before: a house. She thinks it's a house. It's definitely a building, and she reasons she's never seen it because she's never been in this exact spot when the trees were bare before.

Curious, she starts picking her way towards it, and a few yards away, finds an overgrown path.

A few minutes later, she approaches what is probably the largest house she's ever seen. It's not just a house. It's a manor. To her eyes, it may as well be a castle.

It also appears abandoned. The windows are dark, the cobblestone path overgrown. Maybe Abbie and I could move out here. Sure beats our tiny rooms at the inn. Her steps slow as she moves closer. The gate is hanging partially open, so she slips through, noting that it had been locked at one time, but time and disuse has rusted it.

Jenny walks slowly and silently, looking around. She catches a flash of movement in her periphery, but when she turns to look, sees nothing, her eyes searching the windows for signs of life. She shakes her head, dismissing it, and continues around the side of the house.

She stops dead in her tracks when she sees the back garden. It's huge, larger than the town square, and overgrown. The few statues are crumbling, covered in moss, or both. Bushes that likely were once well-groomed hedges, possibly even topiaries, are now squat abandoned green masses or disheveled tangles of bare branches.

All except for a large rosebush in the very center. Jenny walks towards it, drawn to it.

It's blooming, covered in beautiful red blooms that almost glow in the dim late autumn light. She softly gasps, continuing towards it. The red of the roses boldly stands out against the white snow dusting the leaves of the bush and on the ground, and when she is close enough to touch it, she reaches her hand out.

The next thing she knows, she is on the ground.

"Hey! What—?" she exclaims struggling under the weight of her assailant. She can't really see him, but he's heavy enough to pin her down and seems to be extremely strong despite his slender build. "Let me go!"

"Get out," he snaps, roughly hauling her to her feet. "Go before I—"

His words are cut off by a surprisingly powerful punch that makes a squelchy crack when it connects with his nose. He curses, doubling over for a second. Before she can dart away, he grabs her wrist.

"Don't touch me," Jenny snaps, trying to pull away. He releases her with surprising quickness and she tumbles back, bumping into a statue.

It wobbles, and the top part tumbles to the ground. Startled, she looks down and sees that it appears to be a head of some sort. A woman.

A low growl makes her head snap back in the direction of the man, who Jenny now notices is completely cloaked, covered from head to foot. She can just make out his eyes, but the rest of his appearance is a mystery. The growl sounds like it came from him, but it definitely did not sound human. "Do you have a dog?" she asks, momentarily distracted.

He grabs her upper arm. "That was a very valuable statue," he rumbles, pulling her towards the house now. "You are trespassing and now you have destroyed my property."

Jenny struggles, but he is much stronger than she is. Almost unnaturally so. "Let go of me!" she yells, trying ineffectively to free herself from his grasp. She does not want to go into his house. "I wouldn't have broken your damn statue if you hadn't been trying to assault me!"

"I was not—" he snaps, but doesn't finish the sentence. He growls again in frustration, and without another word, hauls her inside.

"Let go of me!" she yells again, pulling so hard she nearly dislocates her shoulder.

"As you wish," he answers, practically throwing her inside a room. He closes the door and locks it.

"Let me out!" she shouts, pounding on the door. "Let me out, you awful… beast!"

He is already heading towards his room to tend his nose, but he hears every word she yells.

xXx

Ichabod Crane carefully removes the cowl covering his face, wincing as he does so. The young woman had a surprisingly strong punch, and he vaguely remembers seeing blood on the snow. A quick inspection of his mask and face confirms the fact that she bloodied his nose.

Snout, he bitterly corrects himself, inspecting his hated face in the mirror. He pokes, prods, and decides it is not broken. He is thinking about finding something cold to put on his injured nose, when he hears it.

Of course. His captive is trying to escape. He knows the windows are barred, but remembers he didn't remove the canvas bag slung across her body before locking her in, and he doesn't know what it contains.

He grabs his cloak and gloves from the chair and hastily puts them on, pulling the large hood up as he quickly walks back to her room.

The lock clicks and the door slowly opens just as he reaches it. Jenny peeks out. She curses under her breath when she sees him waiting for her. Not to be cowed, she straightens up and tries to peer into his hood. He turns his face slightly. "Why are you keeping me here?" she demands.

"I am trying to decide what to do about the damage you have done to my property," he answers, still blocking the doorway. "Give me your bag," he demands, holding out a gloved hand.

Her eyes narrow. "If you're going to kill me, then kill me. If you want something… else, then I promise you one of us will wind up dead, and I don't much care which one. Just make sure my body gets sent back to my sister." She grudgingly thrusts her bag at him, conceding defeat.

"I am not going to harm you in any way," he answers, horrified that she would think him to be the worst kind of cad. I may be a beast, but I am an honorable one. Of course, she does not know this, so he can't exactly fault her for her fears.

Jenny angles her head again, trying to see him. She believes him somehow, but she is still angry, wary, and defensive. And worrying about Abbie, who will surely be worrying about her by now. When he continues to keep his face hidden from her, she asks, "Who are you?" She thinks she catches a glimpse of his face, and it looks like nothing she's ever seen. "What are you?" she quietly gasps, the question escaping before she can rein it in.

"No one but a monster," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft. Then he slams the door. He looks inside the bag and finds a dead rabbit, a small knife, a slingshot, and a flat stone with the impression of a fern on one side.

He frowns and takes the bag to the kitchen, pulling the rabbit out of the bag to place in the cold storage room before heading back outside.

He goes to the broken statue, picking up the head. "I am sorry, Mother," he says, looking at her face. The stone has weathered and pocked with time, but he can still make out her features. He gently sets it on the base at the foot of the statue.

When he turns, he sees the rosebush. One of the blossoms has fallen from it, the petals already wilting on the snowy ground.