A/N: This story, even though it can be read as a stand alone story is interconnected with another story I am writing at the moment. Neither story is set before the other, but rather at the same time, in the same fey world, just in different places with different people. However they do connect and each character meets the other, so reading it together gives more of an insight into each of the main characters individual stories, but is in no way a requirement.

Should you wish to read both, this is the link to The Monster in the Mansion: /s/607 5889/1/The_Monster_in_the_Mansion_A_Modern_Faerie_Tale

Just remove the two spaces in the link and copy and paste the URL. If this doesn't work just go to my profile and find the story.

Thanks, Jess.

Prologue

Observation –

(n) The act of observing or watching; taking a patient look.

(n) A remark expressing careful consideration; reflection.

(n) Facts learned by observing.

(n) The act of noticing or paying attention.

(n) The act of making and recording a measurement.

Lise

I'd always thought of myself as observant. But perhaps that's just wishful thinking. Because it wasn't really my choice to be observant. It wasn't my choice to see the things I see. Because I see things that aren't really there. Well, I suppose they are there. Just to others they aren't. I see the hidden world. The magic world. The world that doesn't exist, and hasn't existed, for all eternity. At the same time it has always been there. For so much longer than the human world.

So, unsurprisingly, I got dragged into the world. I'd always tried my hardest to stay away from it. To pretend it wasn't there, while also staying safe from it. That, I assure you, is a very difficult task. Trying to be a hero is harder than first thought. And there are always complications. Especially considering I'm not entirely human. Well, technically I am. It's my brain and eyes that aren't quite all human. That's why I see other things. Magic things. And the magic is always so intriguing. No mortal can help it. It's addictive. Like a drug. But so much prettier. But no mortal can survive being seduced and sucked in; they take everything from you. I thought I could survive, but I couldn't and it's the reason I'm stuck in my current situation.

It's also because I can see things that aren't there. But then. Even if I couldn't I would've been dragged in and killed, so perhaps it is better this way. No, I don't think so. Now I'm just another screw up. Like my mother. Waiting for something to save me. Something that won't come. I guess I should start at the beginning, which in reality is more of an end.

Just know, the start begins in a whole new world.

Cinderella

The Step-sisters watched the girl in the court with jealousy. She had the Prince. The beautiful magic Prince. After all the warnings they had received about dancing with the fey, here she was, dancing with him. And she may have looked like one of them, but behind her shield, she wasn't. And they knew it. They knew her for what she really was. And it wasn't a beautiful faery girl with emerald wings and yellow crystal hair. She was a street human with dirt smeared over her ratty clothes. A poor, pathetic street girl.

But no one could see that. They couldn't see past the beauty. But beauty didn't make it real – something that faeries would never understand.

"What is she even doing here?" the older sister asked the younger one.

"She was invited," the younger answered. She was mesmerised by the many dancing faeries. "She came to save us"

"From what?" The older sister was angry.

"From the fey. She says they're dangerous."

"But she's dancing with one?"

"She said she could survive it. Because she can see them for what they really are."

"Well, I think she's lying. And I don't care. If I want to dance with the faeries I will. She doesn't mean anything to me."

"No." The younger sister looked scared. "She said if you dance with faeries they will dance you to death."

"And you believe her?"

"Why not? She's been here before. She understands. We misjudged her before. With the dealer. She knows what she's talking about."

"I don't believe her."

"But look." The younger sister looked out to a small human girl, maybe twelve, dancing with a tall faery. The faery had black eyes and scales. The girl was alive, but only just. Her arms and legs were broken, but her face was serene, almost happy, like she was drugged and mesmerised by the beauty of the faery. The faery was throwing her around like a doll, her limbs flapping around her with sickening sounds, bending the way bones aren't supposed to. Then, the faery did a turn with the girl so fierce that her legs flipped up behind her. There was sickening crack of her spine then, she was limp. Her eyes were blank and he head flopped around her shoulders. Blood began to leak out of her mouth as the faery continued to play with the dead human doll. "She's right."

Suddenly the faeries didn't look so beautiful. Sure, they were still gorgeous, but there was an ugly, sinister underside that was obvious.

It didn't stop the jealousy.

The Prince was so beautiful both of the sisters couldn't help but feel some envy.

Even if the fear stopped them from acting on it.

Glass Slipper

The slipper was bloody. It wasn't glass. It wasn't even a shoe. But it looked like glass. Glass in her skin. Glass that glistened and flickered in the light. She looked at the sour red blood, it mirroring her face, and smiled. She could taste it in her mouth and feel it as it dried on her face. It tasted like rust and salt. A familiar taste. One that reminded her of her mother.

She'd never get the Prince and she knew it. She was mortal. Almost. But she wanted it all the same.

The iron burnt, and made her bleed. The iron bracelet she had tried again and again to put back on. To make her feel normal. But it didn't make her feel normal, it made her feel so much more isolated. It made her bleed over the tattoo on her wrist. The glass slipper. The reminder of her mistake. The reminder that marked her. That identified her. He'd be able to find her. He'd be able to find her because of this. The tattoo. The tattoo wasn't a glass slipper, but it was everything a glass slipper represented.

She hated herself for it. For wanting him. For how pathetic she felt now. For how sick she was.

And she knew he'd come back. He'd come back to kill her. She had his name.

And the worse part, she didn't care. She wanted him to come. She just wanted to see him.

She'd be happy to die in his presence. Even if it was him who killed her.

And that was why she hated herself.

Prince

He'd have to choose. No. He'd already chosen. He'd have to tell his mother. About the girl who wasn't bound. She was free. Solitary. And so beautiful. As soon as he'd seen her with that human girl, he'd known. She was so different. So human. She felt so much more real that anyone else he'd met. She took away the haze of the magic and cleared everything. That was what he needed. That was what he wanted.

During the night he had marked her, so if she ran again, he would be able to find her. It would make sure that even if she did run. She would feel the pull. She would want to return. She wouldn't be able to help it.

"You cannot choose a peasant faery as your bride." Indy was always blunt. That was why she was such a good advisor.

"Then why are they invited to the coronation?" He was angry. Just the thought that he couldn't have her hurt him. It stirred up his fury.

"You know why they are invited. They are invited so they don't feel that they are being excluded. We hardly need a rebel uprising."

Of course he knew that. Present fey, on their own, the solitary ones, posed no threat. But if they were to join forces, they could easily take over the court. And that wasn't ever a good thing. The solitary fey needed to be kept solitary.

"I see no problem with taking one as my bride."

"Because the royal family only marries within the court. You know that. It has been that way for years."

"And now it won't be."

"Your mother very much liked the sylph you were dancing with. What was her name?"

"Theta. No. She holds no interest for me."

"And your little beauty holds no interest for the Fuyu Court. You can't marry her."

He knew this was true. He knew it. But he needed her. He needed her more than Indy could ever know. More than anyone could ever know.

"I don't wish to discuss this at length now. Leave me."

"Yes, sir," Indy said reluctantly. "Just know that you bring her to harm, should you ever marry her. Her wedding gown shall be the colour of her blood."

The Prince spun. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that there are few fey who would tolerate a peasant faerie for a queen. Even if it means death for them."

The Prince shut his eyes. He wanted to block out the cruel fey world. It hurt too much, too often.

His father said he was too human. Too mortal. Perhaps he was meant to be a human. He never seemed to fit into the fey world.

And he could never see her dead. He knew that much.

"I will think on it," he told Indy.

Indy nodded. "I hope you change your mind. For her sake, if not the court's."

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder – develops after someone is exposed to an extremely traumatic event that caused him or her to react with intense fear, horror or helplessness. These traumatic events can include: war, torture, rape, child sexual or physical assault, physical assault, kidnapping, terrorism, natural disaster, major accident, being diagnosed with a fatal illness, or finding the body of someone who has committed suicide or been murdered.

Intrusive symptoms can include: distressing thoughts or images, nightmares, feeling or acting as if the traumatic event were reoccurring, intense psychological distress when exposed to triggers, and physical symptoms such as sweating, muscle tension and rapid heartbeat when exposed to triggers.

Avoidance symptoms can include: trying to avoid thinking or talking about the trauma, as well as any feelings associated with the trauma (sometimes drugs or alcohol are used to block out these memories or feelings), avoiding people, places and activities which trigger memories, not remembering the traumatic event, losing interest in activities once enjoyed, feeling detached, losing loving or joyful feelings and not being able to see a future.

Physical arousal symptoms can include: sleep disturbance, irritability or anger, irregular diet, impaired concentration, alert for signs of danger, always looking for possible threats and being easily startled.