I do not presume to own any of these characters.
Giggles resounded throughout the dark woods. Unsuspecting naiveté is such a relief from the annoying sense of forbidding that trespassers get. Got to love those young ones, the ones who disobey their parents for a moment's play in the woods. Being young, nothing can happen if they're having fun. They wouldn't and couldn't possibly fathom the amount of danger they're in.
And they certainly are beauties. Beauties in a clearing, they probably feel safe surrounded by sturdy old pines. One girl of alabaster skin, ebony hair, and crimson lips, she had a voice that would evolve into a deep throaty contralto. Another girl, flaxen hair, cerulean blue eyes, almost statuesque, a high soprano, she'll be fun. And look, long chestnut tresses, warm brown eyes peering down at a book, she's a quiet one. And the last, of a darker blonde than the other, darker blue eyes with a dreamy far off look.
Now the weakest willed… A deep basso laugh rumbled throughout the forest.
"My mommy told me I'm destined for a great future," Briar said. "And that no one can tell me different! I'm gonna marry a handsome prince and we'll be together forever! I can't wait to grow up!"
"At least you have a mommy," said Belle sadly, softly as she looked up from her newest book. Ellie and Snow nodded in agreement. Briar's cheeks turned a soft flattering pink, as only it could.
"At least you have a daddy," Ellie said also sadly. Snow nodded as Briar's pink deepened and Belle's began.
Belle sensed a fight coming on. "Now, now girls we're here to play and disobey our wardens-" giggles "- orders."
"So, what should we do?" asked Snow. They all looked to Ellie, her being the oldest.
"Hmm…" she replied. "I guess... Ah…"
They then turned towards Snow, she was the second oldest. She too didn't have any idea.
Next was Briar, not even an idea.
Finally, Belle exclaimed, "Let's play Prince and Princesses!"
"Who's going to be the prince?" asked Ellie. All of their faces fell.
"I will!" boomed a voice from within the dense forest. The girls all shrieked and huddled together as a handsome man, not boy, not adolescent, but man emerged. His short hair was the color of burnished gold, strong angular face, with bright sea green eyes and skin tanned darkly by long hours doing whatever it is handsome men do to attain that color. His broad torso narrowed as you trailed down to his waist. Muscles rippled beneath his semi tight fitting leather vest and trews. A leather belt held a hunting knife, sheep bladder of water, and journey bread. The girls stared at him in disbelief and mouths agape.
"W-w- we're not to talk to stra-stra- strangers," said Ellie meekly.
"My name's Luke, there, now you know my name and so I can't possibly be a stranger," he said with a friendly smile. He sat down on a fallen log near the edge of the forest a few yards away from the girls.
"Give us a moment," Ellie said. The girls huddled together, their voices whispers to Luke. Finally, they broke apart smiling. "We agree and you can be our prince." The girls jumped up and down in excitement.
Luke smiled warmly; those poor girls couldn't see the strange glint in his eyes. "So, how are we going to do this?" This he said as the forest around them changed. Each of the girls had glowed different colors; Ellie – blue, Briar – green, Snow – red, and Belle – Brown.
"May I try!?" Briar asked as she entered a dusty old room bare except for a single window, a machination, and a crone.
"Of course milady," said the ancient woman. She was spinning what looked like thread. Briar strode over confidently, every inch the princess she was. The crone stood up and gestured for Briar to sit on the stool. Briar sat down graciously. The crone explained how to use it and kept a smile plastered on the entire time. As Briar went to apply what she had learned, the crone transformed into a handsome tan man who leaned over and kissed her.
Briar touched the needle before she could react in shock and fell to the floor. Immediately afterwards, roses blooming from stems of thorn emerged from the stone floor and covered her. More and more layers of bramble grew and encased her until not an inch or even a millimeter could be seen. Soon, roses blossomed from every thorn, impossibly.
The man simply laughed heartily so that it echoed throughout the empty castle.