ONCE UPON A TWILIGHT CONTEST
Title: Fayerye—Meaning Fairyland: OUAT Contest
Author: '.Lamb
Rating: T
POV: A Lost Soul
Word Count: 5,256
Summary: Isabella escaped from the Fairy Queen and went on a journey to Fayerye. The prince comes but will he be able to save her in time? Will she let him? Or is she tired of waiting for true love's kiss?
This story is being submitted as an entry for the Once Upon a Twilight Contest, hosted by wishimight and staceygirl aka jackbauer. For complete contest details, to read the rest of the contest submissions, or if you are interested in entering, please visit the contest community at: http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/community/Once_Upon_A_Twilight/
Or contest profile at
http://www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/~onceuponatwilightcontest
***The Journey Begins***
A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe,
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
~Romeo and Juliet. Act V Scene III
It was dark. The clouds had just rolled in from the Westerly Mountains. They were menacingly dark, as was the Queen's heart—or at least it appeared that way to dear Isabella. She was treated much like the girl in the fairytale story, "Cinderella." Her cousins even call her Cinderbella. But let me warn you, this story has no happy ending. This is not a Fairytale. This is a story of true life and true death.
Isabella was just four years old when her mother died. And as a last request, she asked for Isabella to live with the Queen of all the Fairies, her Great Aunt Aria. She did what she was told, not understanding the price she had to pay for a roof over her head.
Fairies were known then as people of peace. Or also, to some cultures, the fair-faced beauties. But what people didn't know is how vicious their ruler was. They didn't know how Fairies' faces paled and how their heart rates soared and how their breath shook when they hear of the arrival of their "Queen of Peace."
Queen Aria was a merciless ruler. She ruled with force and she killed whatever—or whoever—got in her way. She lived up to her name—Aria, meaning the ruthless lioness.
Isabella feared for her life every day while living at the Queen's Palace, she dared not call it her home. It was more of a dungeon. A cold, dark dungeon that held her prisoner.
She worked all day and slept all night. It was routine—it was life. She would awake and eat. She would work till dusk. She would eat once more. She would sleep. There was no time for fun; there was no time for life. She lived for the Queen and for no one else, not even herself.
One day while cleaning the floors of the Grand Hallway, she was ordered by the Queen's daughter to clean her room. The forbidden room. She was hesitant to enter but with the daughter behind her, she made her way into the room. She took a small, shaky step into the large suite. It was cluttered with trash and clothes that the Queen would probably never wear again. Isabella looked with disgust upon the room that was in front of her. She had a small room—attic—where she lived and had only a few pairs of clothes.
She did not believe herself to be pretty, yet alone beautiful. All she had to wear everyday, day or night, was sweat pants and a tattered shirt. She owned one hairbrush, her mothers. It was the last piece of her mother. Everything else was gone, stolen by the Queen.
The Queen was revolting in Isabella's point of view. She littered the room with things of incomprehensible value—at least to herself, Isabella would love to be able to wear clothing as magnificent as they were. Robes made with the finest silk. Dresses made to fit only her. She would feel like she belonged in the Palace, and not just as a housemaid. Isabella touched the soft robe and felt it smoothly work through her hands, but she dropped it in shock. She felt the Queen's presence on it and her mind flooded with loathing and fear, like a wild animal—the prey of the hunt.
CREAK
Isabella turned just in time to see the Queen's daughter closing the door with a smirk on her face. She winked, then softly closed the door. She heard the key turn and the unmistakable tick of the lock that sealed her fate: She was in trouble.
Isabella stood, staring, eyes wide in horror, at the closed door. She knew what was happening, the daughter was going to get the Queen. She would be framed. There was no denying the outcome.
She stood, back erect and shoulders tense, waiting for the Queen, she knew this might be the end. She prayed with every fiber of her being that she would live to see the next day.
Time stood still, or at least it seemed that way to Isabella. There was no sound in the room other than her breathing. She felt the hairs on her neck rise as she heard the sound of shoes clacking along the freshly cleaned floors. Her skin was covered in the annoying bumps that rise when you feel cold or—in her case—fear.
She heard once again the tick of the lock, but instead of keeping her locked in, it was signaling her nightmares had arrived. The door swung open slowly, as if it were being filmed for a horror movie. There was an eerie light that shone behind the Queen making Isabella see a silhouette instead of the Queen's face.
The Queen took a step into the room. Isabella's face showed her emotions like an open book. Her expression showed pure terror.
"Isabella," the Queen started in an uncanny voice, "I believe I told you to never enter my room." She stared into Isabella's eyes with hate.
"I-I'm sorry Ma'am, you-you're daughter told me to." She whispered, her voice shaking.
"MY DAUGHTER?!" The Queen yelled. She walked to the door and asked the guard standing there to call for Adelaide.
The Queen's stare never left Isabella until her daughter walked in with the same smirk on her face. The Queen started, "Darling, did you give Isabella permission to enter my room?"
"No."
The Queen turned her attention to Isabella. She raised her hand and slapped Isabella across the face, leaving a red handprint on her cheek. She fell to the floor and instinctively lifted a hand to cup her cheek in protection.
Isabella sat on the floor; her hair had fallen over her face acting as a temporary shield. She attempted to hold in the tears threatening to spill. One lone tear fell over her crimson cheek, the salty water burnt a trail down to her chin.
"Get up!" The Queen commanded. She did as she was told. "Not only did you enter my room," she continued, "but you also lied to me about it."
"I didn't, I swear." Isabella mumbled softly. She stared at the floor with downcast eyes.
"Again with the lies. Tsk tsk. What shall we do now? GUARDS!" One by one, the Guards entered the room. "Take Isabella to her room. Let no one in and no one out. She will face trial tomorrow."
Two guards approached Isabella and each grabbed an arm. They pulled her out of the room. Two watchers walked in front of them, and two walked behind them. When they reached her room, they opened the entrance and tossed her in. She fell to the floorboards, catching herself on her hands and knees and heard the lock of the door.
She had never been more terrified in her life. She pulled herself up from the dusty floor and walked slowly to her bed. The tears that she had held in were now flowing freely down her face.
"What do I do now?" She sobbed silently. Her mother—her guardian angel—appeared beside her. This was her coping mechanism. Whenever she was sad or lonely, she thought of her mother, and she would show up. Isabella would feel like the little four-year old girl who cried for her mother every time she would fall down.
"Shh, my dear Isabella, shh. Everything will be alright." Her mother smoothed her hair just like she used to when Isabella was younger.
"I need to leave, I need to get away from here."
"My darling girl, listen to me, if you leave you know what the Queen will do. She will send Il Veleno after you."
"At least that will be a quick death. If I remain here the Queen will make it long and painful, Mother." Isabella whispered in fright.
"But Sweetie, you do not know that for sure." Her mother put a cold hand on Isabella's inflamed cheek. Isabella leaned into it, placing her hand atop her mothers.
"I'd rather not take the chance. I need to leave, but I don't know how." Her demeanor changed: She was no longer the little girl who cried for her mother; she was now the strong woman who survived numerous beatings from the Queen.
"I shall help you, my child. Come with me." She took Isabella by the hand and pulled her to the window. Together they looked out across the land, across prairies and rivers and forests and streams. "Do you see there, the Forest of Arden?" Isabella nodded. "When the clock strikes one, you will climb down these walls and you will run. You must not stop until you reach the edge of the forest. When you pass the first tree they will be unable to track you."
Isabella stared—without blinking—at the forest. She was thinking to herself that she would not make it. That she would mess it up and suffer a more painful death, but it was worth the risk. She nodded. "Yes mother."
Without another word, her mother's figure vanished and, once again, she stood by herself in the small attic.
It seemed like no time had passed when the great clock struck one. As quietly as she could, Isabella lifted herself out of the window. Delicately, she placed her foot in the vine that led from the small garden beneath her window up four stories to Isabella's room. She lowered herself one foot at a time until she finally reached the bottom.
She tried to remain stealth-like but failed. She had always been clumsy so it was no surprise to her when she tripped over one of the flowers and knocked over the Gardener's shovel.
"Shoot!" she whispered under her breath.
She hastily began running towards the forest her mother pointed out. Isabella heard footsteps thumping against the gravel pathway after her, but she didn't waste the time to glimpse behind her. She made it all the way to the halfway point before she stumbled. Her foot caught on one of the many vines that surrounded the castle. She fell to the ground bruising her knees.
Isabella pulled herself up and started running once again. The staccato beating of the footsteps behind her began to increase their tempo, as they got closer. Her heart began to match the quickened pace of the steps.
She saw the forest growing nearer and nearer. She felt happiness surge through her body—she was almost there, she could feel it; she could smell it. This was it: The make or the break.
The footsteps were now almost directly behind her. She was almost there. She felt the wings grow out of her back. Fairies were known to grow wings when they had qualified—if this wasn't qualification, she didn't know what would be considered as such. Without a second thought she soared up into the dark sky. She felt her wings take control. They turned at each burst of wind as she glided gracefully through the clouds. When she passed the first tree of the forest she stopped midair to look back. She witnessed with surprise that all of the Queen's soldiers were lined up at the edge of the forest, not one of them broke the "formation."
***The Journey Ends***
It had been seven months since the time she ran from the Palace when she made it to Fayerye. She had not seen or heard from the Queen since. Isabella has been living in the forest surviving off of anything and everything she could get her hands on. Her clothes were torn more than before. Her skin was encrusted with dirt and her hair was matted with knots. There was dirt under her fingernails and small cuts on her fingertips. She was always tired and always hungry.
One day, she found a small stream. She began to drink from it, but paused when she saw her reflection. Isabella's face had a long cut from the tip of her eyebrow to the middle of her cheek from a branch that suddenly decided it didn't like her. Her eyes looked dead. She looked similar to how she felt—like crap.
She delicately washed each of her injuries, wincing as she applied pressure to each one. After that, she began to scrape the dirt off of her body. When she was done she looked contemptuously at her pink skin.
She had finished washing herself and dressed again. She sat by the river, softly singing the lullaby her mother sang to her as a child, while she attempted to undo the tangles in her hair.
She sang, "Sleep my child and peace attend thee, all through the night. Guardian angels God will send thee, All through the night. Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and dale in slumber sleeping. I my loved ones' watch am keeping, All through the night."
She heard from behind a low, melodious voice continue the song. "Angels watching, e'er around thee, all through the night. Midnight slumber close surround thee, all through the night. Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, Hill and dale in slumber sleeping. I my loved ones' watch am keeping, All through the night."
She was startled. She rose up quickly, and not so gracefully. She turned and looked into emerald green eyes. She looked at him, dressed like royalty, and then looked at herself, in the same outfit she was in when she left—sweatpants and a torn shirt. Only now the shirt hadn't been washed in seven months, nor had the pants, and she hadn't eaten in three days.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. My name is Edward Mason. I live in the Palace." Isabella began to slowly back up, but froze when she felt the water on her bare feet. She was trembling with fear; she believed the Queen had sent him. "Don't panic, I won't harm you."
His voice soothed her, much to her displeasure. She stopped trembling, but she was still petrified.
"I am the Prince of Fayerye," he continued, "would you like to come with me? You could get cleaned up and maybe eat a nice meal."
Isabella looked at him like he had grown a new head right in front of her. She has never been treated with kindness, not since her mother passed. "I-I suppose that would be all right. I'm Isabella." She replied; the only thought running through her head was the idea of an actual meal.
"Great, come with me." He led her through the trees until they came to a beautiful white horse. "Come on." He swung himself up before reaching a hand down to help her up.
Isabella looked fearfully at the hand, was she willing to trust this man? A man she had known only for five minutes. She hesitantly reached up and grasped the Prince's hand. He pulled her up and gently placed her behind him. And with that, they took off towards the castle.
A few minutes later, Prince Edward rode through the gates with Isabella clinging to him—her arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Edward stopped the horse in front of the doors. He then dismounted and helped Isabella off.
She was still scared of him, and he could tell. He took it slow with her; he kept his distance.
"Lets get you cleaned up while the chef prepares something for you to eat." She smiled gratefully at him. "Estephani," he addressed the woman approaching, "would you please take Isabella up to my room and take care of her?" She nodded and smiled kindly at Isabella. "Thank you."
Edward left Isabella with Estephani while he went and talked to the chef.
Isabella followed Estephani to the Prince's room. She was cautious as she entered. After living with the Queen for sixteen years, she learned not to enter royalty's rooms. However, Prince Edward did tell her to get cleaned up.
"Excuse me ma'am, I have drawn you up a bath, if Miss Isabella pleases, I will get her clean clothes." Isabella was shocked, she was used to talking this way, not having people talk to her. She nodded.
Isabella walked into the large bathroom. She studied it. The ground was covered in white tile. There were two large steps that led up to the filled bathtub. Across from the steps was a glass door that opened up to the shower. It was large and looked as if it were made from pure gold and silver. She slowly stripped and lowered herself into the warm water. She let the water wash of the extra dirt she was unable to scrape off.
Isabella looked to her left and saw strawberry shampoo sitting on the counter next to the tub. She lifted the bottle, uncapped it, and poured some into her hand. She raised her cupped hand to her face and smelt the shampoo. It reminded her of her mother. She rubbed the shampoo together, between both hands, and lightly massaged it into her scalp. After that, she rinsed it out of her hair.
She finished her bath and got out. She found a towel hanging on a rack by the door. Isabella took it and dried herself. She looked around for something to wear and saw an outfit laid out on the counter for her, then gazed at it shocked. It was a silk shirt with a black skirt. She fingered the shirt and felt the soft material move under her touch. The towel slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground.
After changing, Isabella made her way into the Prince's room. She found Estephani standing by the door awaiting her arrival.
"This way, Miss Isabella."
"Please, just call me Isabella. I am just like you; I work at the Fairy Queen's Palace. I am no Miss." Estephani nodded her head, but the look in her eyes showed she would not stop calling Isabella Miss.
Estephani led Isabella down a flight of stairs and into a grand dining room. Prince Edward was sitting at the head of the large table waiting for her. When he saw her enter he rose from his seat and walked over to her.
"Do you feel better, Isabella?" He asked looking deeply into her chocolate eyes. She nodded softly. He tenderly took her right hand in his left and led her to the chair across from the one he was previously sitting in. He pulled it out and sat her in it. Prince Edward walked slowly away from her and to the seat he had occupied before.
"Mr. Robles." Prince Edward called. A few moments later a short, slightly heavy man walked out of a double door entry that Isabella assumed led to the kitchen. "We are ready for our meal, please." Mr. Robles nodded and exited through the double doors.
"So, Isabella, would you like to tell me about yourself?" It was phrased as a question, but it was meant as a statement. Isabella nodded and her cheeks turned a delicate pink color.
"Um, well, my name is Isabella from Queen Aria's land, Helaind. She is my Great Aunt, but she didn't treat me like family. I was one of the housemaids. Well, one day Queen Aria's daughter Adelaide convinced me to clean the Queen's room, but it was a trick, she locked the door until the Queen came. When she did come, she had me locked in my room—well, technically it was an attic. But I was sentenced; the trial was the next day. My mother, who died when I was four, came to me, which is not uncommon for me; she appears when I need her. She told me how to escape and I did. That was seven months ago." She didn't know why she trusted him, but she did.
The Prince's face was hard to read. He had so many emotions going through him that he didn't know what to feel first. He was angry—how could someone do such a thing to such a fragile person? He was sad—why did such a wonderful person have to live through that? He had just met her a few minutes before, but he felt as if he knew her his entire life. Love at first sight. But it couldn't be, could it?
Sometime during her monologue Mr. Robles brought out the food and Isabella dug in, literally. But who could blame her? She had not eaten in three days. But she didn't want to tell Prince Edward that. He would pity her, and she didn't need that, she didn't want it.
Edward watched her as she shoved the food into her mouth, most of time swallowing without chewing. It was then that he realized just how thin she was; she was practically skin and bones. Her skin was pink when he found her, but still dirty. Was it possible that she was even dirtier then she was when he found her?
"Isabella?" Prince Edward called to her. She looked up with the same pink highlighting her cheeks. "How long were you living in the forest?" She looked down—whether it was from embarrassment or shame he couldn't tell.
"I've been in the forest since I ran away."
"Well, that has been long enough, you will live here, with me. You will never have to fear your Queen again. You will be safe."
She was going to refuse but the look in his eyes stopped her. She felt safe. For the first time in a long time, she felt loved. Even though she just met him, she loved him. Was she finally getting her fairytale ending? She smiled at him, "Thank you." She mumbled. He nodded then gestured for her to carry on eating. With a small smile in response, she continued consuming her food.
When they were both fully satisfied, Prince Edward walked to where she sat and cupped her cheek into his hand. "I will take care of you, you have my word. Now come with me and we will get you settled in."
"Thank you, Prince Edward."
"Just Edward, please." She smiled and nodded.
He led her to her room and got her settled in. A few minutes later, they were sitting on Isabella's new bed and getting to know each other. There was a soft knock on Isabella's door. She stood and crossed the room until she was standing in front of the door. She reached down and grasped the golden doorknob. She twisted it and pulled the door open. Standing in the doorway was another Fairy like herself, but this Fairy was short, more like a pixie. She had spiky hair and an attitude that made people want to jump for joy.
"Hello, my name is Alice. I am here to take your measurements." The little pixie exclaimed. Isabella turned to look quizzically at Edward. He simply smiled and excused himself.
Half an hour later, her measurements were taken and she had a new friend. Estephani came in a while later and helped Isabella prepare for bed.
***Is This The End?***
It was five months later when things started to change. Edward and Isabella, ever since that day had been inseparable. They were in love, even a blind man could tell. Edward felt that Isabella was his missing half and Isabella couldn't deny it. She felt the same.
Isabella was slowly fading. Getting sick for no reason, falling when nothing was in her way. They did not know what was happening, but it was getting serious.
Edward used his title as a Prince to get the best doctors in the land to help his true love, but nothing was working. But one day, she was better. No one could explain it, but they rejoiced over it.
Isabella was treated like the Princess she always wished to be. People all over the land treated her as such. They would seek her advise for everything—what crop to plant that season or what to name their first child. They would ask her anything that came to mind, and she would not turn anyone away. She was always there to help. Every person on the land adored her and all rejoiced when she was proclaimed 'well'.
Isabella and Prince Edward were engaged. They were ecstatic to bring their relationship to a higher level; however, both believed in waiting until marriage to give the other their innocence.
The wedding was scheduled for the next week, and Isabella's personal stylist, her best friend, Alice, was planning the wedding. She was probably more nervous that Isabella was.
Isabella was getting ready to meet Edward in the Rose Garden. This Rose Garden meant a lot to Isabella. It was dedicated to her as an engagement present from Edward. Every night they would sneak into the garden and lay in the other's arms looking up at the sky.
Isabella was wearing a blue dress with a black coat over it. She made her way down the stairs and out the large wooden doors. When the frigid air outside met her skin, she pulled her coat tighter to her body, reveling in the warmth it brought her.
She stood, looking up to the sky, when she reached her destination. She felt a warm, strong pair of arms wrap around her body. "You look beautiful," a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
"Why thank you." She turned around to gaze into his emerald eyes. "You don't look too bad yourself, my prince." She replied, her eyes not leaving his. She loved calling him her prince; she loved the way it felt rolling off her tongue and lips.
They lowered themselves down to the ground and swathed their arms around their love. "I can't wait until I can call you my wife." Edward breathed softly into her ear as his fingers drew lazy circles into her shoulder. He watched as she turned her head to the side, looking up at him with untainted love showing in her eyes.
"I love you, Edward." She murmured, glancing from his eyes to his soft pink lips, and back to his eyes. It didn't go unnoticed by Edward.
"I love you too, my Isabella." He put two fingers underneath her chin and lifted her head up. He leaned down and softly touched his lips to hers, pouring all of his love for her into the kiss. Isabella broke away and coughed a horrid cough. Edward pulled her up into a sitting position and carefully looked her over.
"Are you alright? Is it coming back?" His apprehension unmistakably showed in his eyes and in his voice.
"I-I don't kn-know," Isabella managed to say between coughs. She covered her mouth with her hand, but quickly pulled it away when she felt a thick liquid cover the inside of it. Her hand started to shake as she stared blankly at it. Edward pulled it away from her and stared at it. The crimson blood covered the palm of her hand with small splatters covering parts of her fingers.
Edward lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the room that they now shared. He placed her gently on the bed and ran into the adjoining bathroom, grabbing a cup filled with water and a white hand towel. He lifted Isabella into his arms and gently placed the cup to her quivering lips. She gasped as she felt the cold liquid slide down her burning throat.
"Tha-thank you." She said when the coughing had calmed down. Edward handed her the small towel to wipe her hands with. Suddenly, the strength left her body and Edward was forced to clean Isabella's hands for her.
"I will be right back." Edward replied and hastily left the room. He returned, not moments later with the resident doctor in tow. After an hour-long check up, the doctor could not find out the cause of the sudden illness. But it was late and Isabella was tired. She fell asleep moments after the doctor left the room. She was unaware of Edward kneeling by the bed grasping her hand in his and murmuring a soft prayer to whoever would listen. She was unaware of the tears steadily rolling down his cheeks.
Six days later, the day before their scheduled wedding, and Isabella was no better, in fact she was worse. She was in and out of consciousness multiple times a day. Edward was frightened; he even began sleeping in his old room once again, unable to sleep beside his sick fiancée.
"Prince Edward! You must come! Come quickly; come quickly!" Estephani, Isabella's personal maid, came rushing into his room. Without a second thought, Edward jumped up out of his bed and ran after the maid. People he passed in the corridors whispered amongst themselves and followed him. Each was worried about their princess.
Edward entered the room, but stopped when he saw Isabella lying on the bed with skin so pale it was almost translucent. The doctor looked at Prince Edward with tears in his eyes, he said, "I don't think she will make it much longer."
Prince Edward dropped to the floor in shock. He was loosing her, the one person that meant more to him than anything else. He could hear nothing; he could see nothing. He was staring blankly into somewhere unknown. He snapped out of it when he felt the doctor's hand on his shoulder.
Edward stood up when the doctor asked if he could give Isabella medicine so she could wake up one last time. Prince Edward nodded and the doctor left the room to retrieve the medicine. He moved slowly to where the doctor was standing earlier. He took Isabella by the hand and ran his fingers through her hair.
"I'm ready." He jumped when he heard the older man's voice. He emptied the contents of the syringe into Isabella's vein. Edward gazed anxiously at her face, waiting for her eyes to open. And slowly, they did.
Her eyes fluttered open and stared into his like they used to, before all of this happened, but there was an emotion running deep through them that he could not place.
"Isabella, my love, the doctor said this was the end. But always know that I love you. Wherever you go, I will find you. I love you, forever and always." He placed a kiss on her hand and one on her lips.
"Who are you?" Her whisper floated through the air as her eyes shut and she stopped breathing. Prince Edward felt his heart twist in his chest. He fell to the floor and let out a heart-wrenching cry that was heard from miles away. He pounded on the floor with all the strength he had and he sobbed. He was found later that day, face down in a pillow with a knife in his heart. They never found out what killed her, but I know. It was the poison the Queen sent. The Il Veleno.
And who am I? I am a lost soul that travels through time, looking for the next Romeo and Juliet.
that's it...hope you liked it!
Thanks for reading, check out my other stories!
Kyle Beth