Edited to add a bit more. Still not happy with the pov...how would you change it?
Nursing that precious first cup of tea, Giles absorbed the sounds of morning coming from the half-opened window of the parlor with a sense of anticipation, for what he did not know. Time was drawing short, and decisions would soon make themselves as he watched.
Since arriving with Willow nearly two weeks before, he'd struggled to find time and space that was his own, and though she was still sleeping during this tenuous time that once had been his, thoughts of her agitated the birds' melody in his ears and stirred the smell of the village's hearths coming to live.
And god help him, when she woke. Her physical presence brought with it a tension he couldn't name, and her silence lay like a heavy woolen blanket over a basket of snakes, hiding the dry rattles and hissing, but not quite managing to hide the danger.
Danger that would break free, with or without his assistance.
When the knock came at the door, Giles opened it without a word. He'd been expecting this visit for several days now. A bit of dread stilled his hand on the door as he stared at the dark-haried woman on the front step. Her face was impassive, but her body language brooked no nonsense.
"She hasn't come to us." The tall woman's words carried censure. "Many of us have not slept since you returned here with her. " Black-as-night eyes held Giles' steadily. "Her pain and anger bubble furiously behind the walls she's built, and her control is false."
He knew what Gwen wanted from him, had known it might come to this when he made the decision not to kill.
"She's not ready yet." His voice entreated compassion, while his eyes met her gaze. The plea was not entirely for Willow, that she knew. There were more prices to be paid than those for which the young woman would be called to account. Rupert's bargain in saving her, and the world along with, hung still in the balance.
"You've a single day. Things will go more smoothly if she comes to us entirely of her own accord. We will wait one more rising and setting of the sun for her to approach us."
Sweeping down the walk as if she owned the cottage and the ground surrounding it, the witch warned, "No later than sunset tomorrow, we'll expect to have seen you both."
Giles stared for a moment into the early morning sun, then shut the door and headed for the kitchen. Rough though it was, their days had begun to take a pattern, and he'd not break it to save his soul.
I'm hoping to get this to some kind of postable first chapter tonight after the Hamentaschen baking is finished.