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Wolf had been languishing in solitary confinement for almost three years. Oh, he knew they wouldn't give him a cellmate on the basic premise that he could eat said cellmate and get stronger, but he hadn't imagined that solitary confinement would be quite so…solitary. Wolf didn't even get to eat meals with the other inmates—the Powers that Be thought that he was that dangerous. His only contact with the outside world in the 1,023 days since his sentencing was when a hand shoved today's unpalatable green glop through a slot near the bottom of the thick wood door. For the first few months, he had been stir-crazy, pacing constantly, shedding at an alarming rate, and trying unsuccessfully to have conversations with the hand. Now, however, he had accepted the fact that the gnarled old hand with its dirty, chipped nails was the last human he was going to see for the rest of his lifetime. With acceptance of this, all his energy left him and he sagged on his bunk at all times, even when eating his beanstalk soup.
Which is why he was so surprised to find a girl in bed with him.
He had drifted off to sleep, wishing for a nice, juicy steak or a few chickens, and when he awoke, there she was, one arm over his chest, golden head tucked into his shoulder.
He yelled, when he saw her, a yell of surprise rather than fear. He had nothing to fear—it wasn't like she was an Amazon warrior woman. She was stick-skinny, and he knew he could snap her neck easily.
Seeing—and hearing—that he was awake, she sat up and dangled her feet off the edge of his bunk. "Hello, Wolf," she said.
He looked her over. She was skinny, pale, and rather plain. True, her bright blonde hair shone in the thin, pale sunlight, and her green eyes made her face look interesting, but nothing could hide the plainness of her face and form. Her voice was soothing, especially to Wolf, who would have thought a hoarse lumberjack was soothing at that point. She also possessed a curious there-but-not-quite-there quality. Wolf was intrigued.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. His little box had become a shelter, almost, where the outside world couldn't reach him.
"Well, I went there and they said to—no, that's not right—they said to go there—no—" she looked confused. "I went there, but they sent me back here. Well, not really back here, per se, because I was from not here, but not there either…I went there and they sent me here. That's it."
"That doesn't explain anything."
She sighed, exasperated. "I don't have to explain anything. Shut up and let me talk so I can leave. This cell stinks."
"At least tell me your name."
"Rapunzel. Happy?"
His mouth opened in shock. "You can't be the Lady Rapunzel! She was beautiful and kind and—"
"Everything I'm not?" she finished wryly. "I just told you something to get you to be quiet. How about Risi? That's as good a name as any."
"All right. Hello, Risi."
"Hello, Wolf. I'm glad you approve. Now can I talk?"
"Why do you want to?" His brow furrowed. This stick-girl had broken into a maximum security prison to talk to him? That made no sense.
"Because I had to do a good deed or something. I don't really remember—I'll remember when I go back there, but when I leave I'll forget again. But whatever. It's better than death premonitions any day."
Wolf had given up on talking. Things seemed to get even more confusing when he asked questions.
Her face changed, becoming more serious, and her voice sounded almost ceremonial. "Wolf, soon you will meet a beautiful woman. Don't say, 'But I'm in prison.' Everything will be taken care of. You will meet her, and you will desire her more than anything you have ever desired—yes, even steak. She will initially scorn you, but you must never give up. She is your twin soul, your true love. You will be together. I bless your union." Her message done, she began to fade. "Goodbye, Wolf."
"Wait!" Wolf said, anxious to prolong their interaction, even if only for the reason that it was interaction. "Risi! Who are you? Really?"
Her image—now transparent—flickered. Her blonde hair changed from a blunt cut at her shoulders to a great braid piled on her head, weighed down with a gold circlet. The plain white fabric of her gown morphed into rich silk with winking embroidery. Jewels glimmered at her fingers, wrists, and throat. Color bloomed in her lips and cheeks, replacing the plainness with great beauty. The queen before him was radiant. "Rapunzel," she whispered, before vanishing completely.
Wolf put his face in his hands.
And that was where the Queen found him.