Prince Gregory looked up, up, up at the tower window he'd just fallen from, where a flash of fair blond hair and blue eyes caught his gaze. Perhaps the politics at court had finally driven him batty, for surely the maiden trapped in the clutches of an evil spell cast by a horrible witch- surely she had not just pushed her savior out of a window while he was in the middle of saving her? No, surely he had not noticed a flash of anger in those beautiful eyes when he'd leapt over the marble railing of her prison's balcony. Definitely not the look of irritation when he'd brandished his sword and swung it with a flourish and bade the vile enchantress show herself that he might smite her. And the small, cheshire cat grin on the maiden's face after she'd shoved hard against his chest and sent him flailing through the air, leaning over the rail to watch him crash into the brush surrounding the pearly stones that formed the base of her tower.
It was a perfect spring morning and the prince lay perfectly still in the springy grass, listening to the birds chirping overhead and attempting to catch his breath and decide just how far his mental health had deteriorated to have caused this surreal delusion. And then his attention was snagged again by a flutter of blue fabric above him, moments before the maiden scaled down the same rope he'd climbed minutes before, hiking her skirts up so high that he got an eyeful of her frilly bloomers before she reached the ground and leaned over him.
"You men are all the same," she sighed, dusting off her hands and placing them on her hips. Then she frowned and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, dabbing gently at a cut on his forehead from a briar bush he'd fallen on. "Why do you think I live alone in a tower in the middle of nowhere?"
The prince could only gape helplessly up at her before she continued, apparently not expecting an answer.
"Well, wiggle your toes and fingers. Does everything feel like it's in one piece?" The prince did as told, wheezing unhappily when a bolt of pain shot up his left arm when he tried to lift it. "Whoops. Looks like that's fractured, at least. Only one thing I can do for that."
She reached down and cut a length of her sky blue dress with a dagger from her belt. By sitting him up against the sun warmed stones she managed to fashion a sling round his injured arm. Then she helped him stand, holding his other arm to steady him.
"Now, where is your horse, city boy?" Too stunned by the strange turn this quest had taken, the prince nodded his head to the tree a few yards into the trees that his horse was grazing under. "You didn't even tie it up? What do they even teach you in your princely studies? Come on, then."
After much careful work and some assistance from a fallen tree, the maiden helped the prince onto his horse where he stared speechlessly down at her. Her hair was wild, warm and yellow as melted butter and shining like a halo in the sun. Her eyes glittered up at him with the same cutting intelligence she'd spoken with, and they were the most striking shade of blue that Gregory had ever encountered. Her dress was embroidered with ivy and small woodland creatures and he suddenly noticed that her feet were bare where they peeked out from under the hem of it. And suddenly the prince realized that the maid belonged here, among the trees and the birds and the plants that were all as untamed and strangely beautiful as she was. For all of these reasons, the prince decided that he could forgive her for possibly breaking his arm if she would only answer one question.
"Madame, might I ask your name before I leave?" Gregory wrapped the reins tightly around his right hand, somehow frightened that she would refuse to answer. But she simply smiled a brilliant, mischievous smile and made a small curtsy without lowering her head.
"Reinette, your highness," She replied. For a moment, Gregory was stunned that she knew he was royalty, before he remembered that his kingdom's crest was burned into the top flap of every saddle bag on his mount, as well as being clearly visible in the embroidery of his tunic and the hilt of his sword. Of course she would conclude that you are a prince, idiot, he berated himself. "And it would be fantastic if you would let your princely friends know that the maiden Reinette is perfectly happy alone and would rather not repeat this little incident if she could avoid it."
Gregory smiled grudgingly as her bell-like laughter washed over him and then she was touching her hand to her forehead in a cheeky salute. "See you around, Prince Gregory." Then she firmly patted the flank of his horse and it obediently set off for home at a steady walk that barely jostled his injury. He strained to turn himself in the saddle without pulling his mount up short, and was rewarded with one last glimpse of the maiden- Reinette, standing perfectly still in the forest, dappled sunlight playing patterns across her face while the wind playfully lifted the edges of her skirt and she lifted her hand to wave before he turned a bend on the path and she was obscured by trees.
_
When later asked why he came back with a broken arm and no maiden to soothe the sting of his father and friends laughing at his dismal failure, all he had to say was, "Good riddance." Though he did pass on her message, and his "princely friends" all assured him that they'd set their sights on more compliant, maidenly targets. So it was back to his normal schedule of studies, swordplay and fending off the overpurfumed court ladies with a stick. But sometimes, after particularly hectic and frustrating days, Gregory would pull out the now well-worn scrap of silk and flatten it across his lap and think of Reinette. On especially bad days, he'd pour himself a glass of scotch and he'd unlock the ivory inlaid box secreted away under his bed and he would trace his fingers over the embroidered initials on the handkerchief he'd found stuffed into his outer pocket later that day, the one Reinette had used to dab blood off of his forehead. R.E.Y. was sewed onto the white linen square in simple script and Gregory vowed to find out what the last two initials of her name were... the next time he visited.
_
Gregory stepped away from his horse after making sure he'd tied it securely to a branch low enough to the ground so that it would be able to graze while he was gone. Then he made his way to the clearing ahead, and the shining white tower set in the middle of it. When he reached it he set the basket he was carrying on the ground and cupped both hands around his mouth and called up to the empty window, "Oh, fair Reinette, might I trouble you for a bit of your time?"
After a solid minute of silence as his only response, Gregory's smile began to fade and he had just begun to wonder if he dare risk climbing back up and ending up with a broken leg when a voice to his left startled him.
"Oh, dear. I thought I'd frightened you off as easily as I did the others." He turned to see the fair Reinette herself leaning against a tree at the edge of the woods, wearing a gold and green dress and smiling that radiant smile at him.
"Oh, no. In my princely studies they taught me to retreat only to regroup and recover. Having done that, I've returned to emerge victorious." Gregory made a sweeping bow and gestured toward the basket at his feet. "And also to ask you to have a picnic with me."
One blond eyebrow twitched up into her hair before she crooked a finger and turned to disappear into the underbrush. Gregory hurried to follow only to double back when he remembered he'd forgotten the food. Branches weighed down by brilliantly green leaves whipped past his face as he ran to catch up only to nearly trip and fall flat on his backside when he nearly ran into his seemingly agitated companion.
"Are you attempting to frighten the dickens out of all of my little furry friends for miles around or do you always walk like such a graceless oaf?" She whirled around in a flurry of shimmering golden skirts and stalked silently away from him. Gregory winced and took pains to be quieter as he followed her into a shady spot beneath a great spreading oak tree. As soon as he'd laid out the blanket and sat down Reinette flopped down opposite him and began to eat in the most thrillingly unladylike way. Gregory had to force himself not to stare when she bit into a peach and the juice dripped down her neck.
They spent the rest of the day together, Reinette teaching Gregory how to walk like a hunter, Gregory dredging up every joke he could ever remember hearing just to make her laugh so he could watch her hair slip over her shoulders when she threw her head back to laugh. Sometime in the afternoon he could bear it no longer. He'd tried desperately all day to pretend that he wasn't falling ass over teakettle for this strange woman and finally he leaned toward her with every intention of planting a kiss on those beautiful lips- but suddenly they were gone.
"Not yet!" she cried, falling back on her elbows on the grass. "You can't do that yet."
Gregory, intrigued by the word yet, leaned on one hand beside her. "Not yet? When then?"
"Not until the third date, at least," Reinette replied. Gregory was surprised and it must have shown on his face because Reinette grinned up at him.
"Oh, indeed? And what am I allowed on the first date?" He asked. After some thought, a dainty hand was presented to him. Fighting back a grin himself, Gregory took her wrist and turned it in his hand so that her palm was turned upward. Then he pressed his lips to her skin softly.
"But seeing as this is our second meeting, should I not be allowed my second date privileges?" Gregory asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager. Reinette made a show of thinking what that should be before she smiled serenely and pointed to her forehead. Gregory sighed in a very put upon manner as he laid a hand along her jaw to tip her face up and lay another kiss against the soft skin o her forehead. "Would it seem too desperate of me to come again tomorrow morning?"
As the trees around them rang with her bell-like laughter, Gregory decided that he would quite happily risk saddle sores and the mocking jibes of his friends at court to visit a third time and a fourth and a fifth and however many other times it took to make this little bit of heaven permanent.
Hell, maybe he'd even come and live in that blasted tower with her.
Entirely inspired by Fairytale by Sara Bareilles. Just a cute little one shot I that turned out to be longer than I originally intended. It was supposed to be a girl power story but the hopeless romantic in me demanded a bone to gnaw on while she waited for me to finish the next chapter for one of my Labyrinth fics. And for anyone wondering about those, I am working on them. Sorry for the wait, I've just written myself into a corner and the floor is burning right out from under me. It's so sucky to have writers block.
But anyway, hope you like it. Reviews make Chuck Norris smile, which literally make the world go 'round.