I do not own Into the Woods.
Their love was forbidden. Narrators weren't supposed to have any interaction with those who's stories they told. Characters weren't supposed to take note of those who told their stories.
But that didn't stop him.
He had first noticed her when she was telling a story to the village children. Sure he had narrated the strange girl's arrival to the small village, but that was part of his job. The young narrator had looked on in awe, without narrating for once, as the dark-haired teen spun a fantastic tale much like one that he hoped he would tell one day.
Basically, it was love at first sight. For him, at least. She had no way of knowing that he even existed. He was beyond the fourth wall.
He knew there was a way to talk to her, but it was risky. He could break down the wall that separated them. He would be able patch it up when he was done, of course, but it would never have the same integrity again. A character might see him or hear him or even make their own way through the wall one day.
It's risky, but worth it, he decided after months of debate with himself. Using his pen (for the pen is mightier than the sword) he broke down the wall and entered the story he had been narrating since he could remember.
She saw him enter. The air had seemed to tear and from that tear, he entered. Now, it was love at first sight for them both.
"Good afternoon, sir," she said as she walked over to him.
The Narrator's eyes went wide as she approached. She was even more beautiful without the film of the wall separating them.
"Good afternoon, Miss Sarah," he said, bowing slightly to her.
"How did you know my name?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, I-um… that is…"
"And where did you come from? It seemed as if the air was torn and you stepped through!"
"You…you saw that?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"What is your name, sir?"
"My name is the-" he cut himself off. Tell this girl his name was 'The Narrator'? Preposterous!
"Well?"
"My name is Tom."
"Well, Tom do you have a place to stay?"
"No, I don't."
Sarah smiled. "Well, why don't you come with me? I'm sure the family I'm staying with won't mind too much."
A foolish, ridiculously happy smile spread across the Narrator's face. "I would like that very much Miss Sarah."
Just a few months later, they were married. Since the Narrator had no means of supporting himself in this world, they built and opened a bakery together. They had a healthy son together and nothing went wrong for the longest time.
Nothing went wrong until Sarah became pregnant once again.
She pestered him with demands of greens- and lots of them. It got to the point where he couldn't afford the normal baking supplies but she still demanded greens.
He feared that this was a consequence of their marriage. It was unnatural. The Narrator and Character worlds were never meant to mix. So, in hopes that greens would forestall a greater consequence, he scaled the garden wall of their neighbor.
The Narrator had no way of knowing that they had a witch for a neighbor. She had arrived in the small village long before he became its Narrator and she mostly kept to herself and therefore needed no narration. So when she called him out on stealing her greens, the Narrator was utterly unprepared and at the mercy of the pretty, but furious, witch.
But if giving up their second child mean that his wife would live, he would gladly sacrifice that.
That night, he told Sarah everything. How he was a Narrator, his fears about her health, and what was to become of their second child.
She didn't speak to him for a long time. Her first words to him after he told his own story (a first in many ways) were:
"The baby's coming."
It was a long, horrid night for all involved. Sarah would have died in labor if it hadn't been for the valiant efforts of the village midwife.
The appearance of the witch proved too much for her, though. Upon seeing the twisted and malformed visage of the crone who was to take her daughter from her, Sarah's face went snow white. When the witch said:
"I have come for the child."
Sarah died.
The witch, with even less compassion for anyone given the events of the night of the lightning, pushed past the pleading Narrator to let the child be and snatched up the golden-haired child. She whisked her away and shouted a curse after her, proclaiming "Your family tree will always be a barren one!"
That night, the Narrator decided that he could no longer stay, even if he did have a son. He realized that he had gone too far. Rules that had been set in place for everyone's protection had been broken. The village was narrator-less for too long and the story was starting to unwind. If he didn't return soon, no one would know what to do.
He took his three-year-old son, kissed him, and walked out the door without his jacket. Once in the deserted, midnight, town square, he took his pen and re-entered his solitary world beyond the fourth wall.
The next morning, the Narrator's son was found crying on his doorstep by Meredith, Jack's mother and the Narrator's former neighbor.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked, kneeling down.
"Daddy-" the small boy hiccupped, "Daddy went out last night and he hasn't come back. And Mommy won't wake up!"
Concern clear on her face, Meredith went inside the Bakers' (as she knew them to be) home and found the Baker's wife dead and the baby she had been expecting nowhere in sight. Shocked, she went back outside and took the little curly-haired boy in her arms.
"Did you get Mommy to wake up?" he asked, sniffling.
"No… no, honey," she said. Meredith knew how much Tom had loved his wife. She was certain of what he had done in his grief. But she couldn't tell the child that.
"What about Daddy?"
"I'm sorry, honey. But I think… I think they had a baking accident. They- they won't be coming back. Do you understand what I'm saying, dear?"
From behind the fourth wall, the Narrator watched as recognition spread across his little boy's face. He wanted so badly to tell his son where he was, but he didn't dare. If his presence had caused (though inadvertently) the death of a Character, he couldn't risk coming back. His presence had also caused the transformation of a witch and a curse upon a child. Who knew what sort of chaos could ensue if he reentered the story now?
Perhaps one day he would come back to help his child break the curse on his house.
But it would be a long while before his son would even begin to worry about that sort of thing.
It would be many years before he would utter the words:
"Once upon a time in a far off kingdom lived a fair maiden, a sad young lad… and a childless baker."
A/N- This story basically came about from me toying with the concept that (traditionally) the Narrator and Mysterious Man are played by the same person…so why not have them actually be the same person? I'm also thinking about writing one for Cinderella's Prince and the Wolf (unless it's been done).
My apologies if I messed anything up. This is my first fanfiction for Into the Woods, so I'm not too familiar with writing the characters.
Thanks so much for reading and please drop a review if you are so inclined :)
