The darkness was her enemy. It surrounded her and cradled her close, no matter how much she struggled and fought. It seeped inside of her and choked her, taking away her breath. Suffocation, that's the thought that sprung to mind. And it was all because of him.

Cinderella was making a late afternoon run to the market, simply because she realized she forgotten the cream when she had gone earlier and knew if her stepfamily didn't have it for their tea the next morning there would be hell to pay. It was dusk by the time she reached the market and vendors were beginning to close down. Hurriedly, she bought what little cream she could find and began to head home. She knew if she wasn't back before dark her stepmother would be angry. Night fell as she hurried on, the stars coming out and crickets beginning to chirp.

It was a warm summer night, and she couldn't help but admire the scenery as she walked. She heard a branch snap behind her and whirled to find the source of the noise. There was nothing there, so she turned around and resumed her pace, though she sped up a little as fear began to take root. Before long, she heard footsteps behind her, but when she turned there was no one there. She walked faster, hoping to lose the person.

Her fear grew when the footsteps sped up, too. She began to run and heard whoever was behind her begin to run as well. Suddenly, a hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She screamed, and another hand clamped across her mouth, successfully silencing her. They were large and calloused, definitely male.

She was pulled back roughly to rest against a firm chest. Whoever it was was breathing heavily from the run. His breath hit her neck, lifting her hair up ever so slightly. She shivered in repulsion.

"Now listen, honey," he growled in a deep voice. "You're gonna do what I tell you and you're gonna be quiet. I don't want to have to snap your pretty little neck, understand?" Cinderella nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Good girl."

He removed his hand from her mouth and she promptly screamed. The sound was cut off when a rough hand squeezed her neck tightly, efficiently cutting off her air supply.

"I thought I told you to be quiet? Now, one more outburst like that and I won't stop before I crush your windpipe."

He released her completely, and she crumpled to the ground gasping for air. Colored spots swarmed her vision, so she didn't see the man crouch in front of her. He pushed her backwards roughly so that she landed on her back. Horrified, she realized what was happening even before she heard the rustling of material. He lay partially on top of her and gripped her wrists tightly, biding her arms above her head to reassure she would stay in place.

He squeezed her left breast roughly, and she gasped. Too mortified to scream, she just lay there and cried. He continued to grope her and touch her all over. It wasn't long before she felt his arousal against her thigh. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

He shoved her skirt up around her waist and yanked down her underwear. She heard them rip as he removed them, and she suspected that they were beyond repair, not that she'd ever want to wear them again anyway. He entered her, and she couldn't suppress a yelp as she unwillingly accepted his length. She felt her inner wall tear as her virginity was ripped away from her. Her tears came faster, blinding her, which was good as the man was now lying completely on top of her.

He panted as he thrust repeatedly, each one feeling like a white hot poker between her legs. Finally, or perhaps wretchedly, it came to an end when he released inside of her. She remained rigid as he panted on top of her. After what seemed an eternity, he got up, got dressed, and walked down the road without a word. She lay still for a few moments more to reassure herself that he was really gone.

When he didn't return, she carefully stood and adjusted her clothes, mindful of the throbbing between her legs. Slowly, she started the painful walk home, tears continuing to run down her face.

Cinderella tried to be as quiet as possible as she slipped back into the chateau. She was fearful of her stepmother, not only because she was late, but because she had also forgotten the cream back at...that place. Relieved that Lady Tremaine didn't swoop down on her the moment she entered the house, she made her way through the kitchen and into the entrance hall. Seeing no life there, she began the long trek to her room, praying that she would make it there before being summoned. Surprisingly, she did, and at once collapsed on her bed and sobbed into her pillow.

Jaq, Gus, and her other mice friends came out to see what was wrong, but she didn't acknowledge them. After a bit, they left her alone. Finally, she stood and stiffly walked to the bowl where she kept water for bathing. Wetting a cloth, she gently dabbed between her legs, wincing at the needles that stabbed her at the slightest touch. When she pulled the rag away, she barely suppressed a cry at the blood that covered it.

Shuddering, she changed into her nightgown and got into bed, curling into a ball. She tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes the night replayed over and over in her mind. She lay awake, blaming and berating herself for being so stupid as to forget the cream in the first place. Dawn came before sleep did, and she reluctantly rose and dressed for the day. The pain between her legs had increased, so much so that she was unsure if she could walk.

She forced herself to take a few steps, wincing each time. Knowing full well that she couldn't stay upstairs all day, she began the journey to the kitchen to begin her daily chores.

There was something different about her stepdaughter, she just couldn't place it. Ordinarily, when she brought breakfast she would go over to the large vanity and lay out her clothes for the day. Today she moved slowly, and whimpered when she bent at the waist to retrieve her undergarments from a drawer. And there were bruises everywhere. She watched her for a bit longer before coming to a decision.

"Cinderella, come here and close the door."

She saw her flinch, and wondered what was wrong. While she may have done her share of verbal abuse over the years, she had never laid a finger on the girl. As far as she knew, other than the occasional shove, her daughters hadn't either. There had always been a part of her that cared for the blonde, which was why she called her back.

"Yes, Stepmother?"

Lady Tremaine took note of her bowed head, the position of ultimate submissiveness. It was also one Cinderella had never presented before. She had always made a point to look her in the eye and smile every morning. And now that she realized something was wrong, she realized her usual cheer hadn't been present either.

"I said come here, child." Her voice was only a degree warmer than usual, but it was enough to make the petite blonde glance up and obey. "Sit." She did, though she stayed as far from her as possible. "Cinderella," she said, allowing her voice to thaw completely.

The girl's head shot up in surprise. The older woman almost drew back from the girl when she saw her face. Once innocent blue eyes held a haunted and tormented look. Her lips were swollen and had a barely noticeable purple tint to them. And then there was the ring around her neck.

It was deep black and blue and had the distinct imprint of hands. She shuddered at what she saw.

"Stepmother, are you all right?" Cinderella asked, concerned for her.

Without answering, she raised a hand to cup the girl's cheek. She flinched, but didn't back away, though every fiber of her being was screaming for her to do so. The touch was surprisingly gentle coming from a woman who despised her. The other hand joined its twin on the other side of her face, and her breathing sped up.

"Cinderella."

She looked up into emerald eyes that, she was surprised to note, were filled with concern and sadness. That was all it took for her to fall forward against the woman and begin to sob all over again. Lady Tremaine, while shocked, gently wrapped her arms around the young woman and began to rock back and forth. Cinderella eventually calmed down, but kept her face hidden in the older woman's shoulder. It was easier that way, to remain hidden from the outside world and the hate she was sure would befall her when she raised her head.

She remained hidden until she was sure she could face her reality again. Her stepmother hadn't moved the whole time, and she was sure she was in for it when she raised her head.

"I'm sorry, Mother," she whispered, the name slipping out unbidden.

She stiffened, waiting for...something, she didn't quite know what. "Hush," was the only response she got so she remained hidden. A hand, hesitant at first, began to caress her back, growing more sure as the motion continued.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Lady Tremaine asked quietly.

"Mother," Cinderella gasped. "He...he...!"

She burst into tears again. She didn't need to finish her sentence. Lady Tremaine was an intelligent woman, and knew what she meant. It enraged her, that someone would dare touch the girl in that way. She may not be hers by birth, and she may not have shown her the most affection, but she was still hers, and no one was going to hurt her daughter and get away with it.

"Hush. Hush, darling," she murmured to the sobbing young woman. She knew she needed to check her over to be sure there was no irreparable damage. "Cinderella, I need to check you over."

She tensed back up, not wanting the older woman to see her body. She was ashamed of herself. It was her fault she had been raped, and she didn't want to let her stepmother see how wretched she was.

"You don't need to do that, Mother. I'm fine, really."

"Cinderella," she said, her voice hardening.

Reluctantly, she laid back on the bed, allowing the older woman to do what needed to be done. Slowly, she slid the girl's skirt up her legs. Her hand covered her mouth in shock at what she saw. Dried blood and fluids covered her inner thighs, and she could tell without really looking that Cinderella was swollen. 'No wonder she can barely walk,' she thought to herself as she lowered the skirt a bit.

"Hold still," she said as she wet a cloth.

Gently, she began washing away the leftover evidence. Bruises were revealed, and they only got darker the higher she went. This served only to further enrage her. Cinderella for her part was embarrassed and disgusted with herself.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Cinderella whispered, fresh tears falling. The woman stopped what she was doing and looked up at her, disbelief clearly written across her features. "It's my fault. If I'd only thought to get the cream earlier..."

So that was why there was none. She felt horrible that she had inadvertently caused this. If only she hadn't insisted there be fresh cream every morning for the tea, the girl wouldn't have been out so late.

"And then if I had hurried home faster, maybe then he wouldn't have had the chance."

"Cinders," she said softly, calling her by the pet name she had been christened with long ago. The girl looked up as she recognized her father's nickname for her. "It is not your fault. Men like that are the scum if the earth, unworthy of the very air we breathe. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Really?" Cinderella whispered.

"Really. Now," Lady Tremaine said with one final swipe, "I believe that does it."

"Thank you, Mother."

The young woman yawned, and relaxed against the sheets, the night of no sleep catching up to her.

"Rest now, Cinders. You don't have to do anything today. Besides, I think the girls could stand one day of housework."

As the blonde dropped off, she felt a kiss placed lightly on her forehead. She smiled before the world went dark.

-One year later-

Wedding bells rang, rice was thrown, and people cheered. It had been a year since that night, but so much had happened in that time. Cinderella had just gotten married to the prince, and was preparing to leave for her honeymoon. Before the wedding, Lady Tremaine had taken her aside and explained what was to be expected of her. She had paled at the thought of another man touching her that way, but she was assured that he would be much more gentle and wouldn't press her to do anything she didn't want to do. If she understood correctly, when done gently enough it could be quite wonderful.

She had healed, both physically and mentally over the year. The only thing she couldn't bear to do was go out at night. The darkness terrified her, and she often relapsed when she was forced out in it. Her stepsisters ridiculed her for it of course, but they were never informed she had been raped for fear they would use it against her. But she didn't let it upset her, because when one of them brought it up Lady Tremaine would snap at them or glare, and a warm tingly feeling filled her chest when this occurred.

They had grown closer over the last year, and her stepsisters, dumb as they were, were none the wiser. As the older woman stood looking at her newly wed daughter, she couldn't help but sigh, recalling the energetic girl who had grown on her throughout the years. She seemed to morph into her six year old self the longer she looked at her, so she coughed quietly and looked away, blinking back tears. A soft pale hand grasped hers gently.

"Thank you, Mother. Without you I couldn't have pushed past what happened. You've helped me heal in more ways than one, and you've given me what I always wanted."

"What was that?"

"A mother's love."

"Oh, darling, I-"

She was cut short as the prince began calling for his wife. Cinderella looked at her apologetically before kissing her cheek.

"Bye, Mother. I'll see you when we return."

"Goodbye, Cinders. Have a wonderful time."

She watched as her youngest walked away toward her happily ever after. Sighing, she prayed that it would be all that she hoped for and more. She watched as the royal carriage pulled away, and when it was out of sight she whispered "Amor vincit Omnia." Love conquers all.