It was another sleepless night, when memories of choices long past haunted the frays of Apple's mind and left her staring up at the canopy of her bed. It was nights like these when her room of fine furnishings and crystal fixtures felt empty, and the flames that licked the fireplace's back weren't quite hot enough to warm her. Nights like these, the threads of sanity that usually held her together snapped and, like a dangerous game, she would spend the entire next week desperately trying to pull them back together.
"I-I have to do this. I don't have a choice."
Fingers pressed into her cheeks, demanding her gaze.
"There's always choice."
Memories intruded her thoughts and, if she was still enough, she swore she could still feel the pressure on her cheeks, straight down to her teeth. She turned over, restless, and found herself looking at the still face of her husband. Even in the dark, she could make out the distinct outline of his sharp features and larger frame. Usually, she could distract herself with his words and touch, find comfort, however meager, in his embrace, but tonight the moon was high and the hour was late. Tonight, she found no comfort with him. He was inches from her fingertips, but he might as well have been worlds away.
"How can you say that? Don't you hear them, out there at this very moment, waiting for us? They're counting on us. I'm sorry, but I can't. I thought I could for you, but I can't."
"We can do this together, like we always said. Don't turn your back on me now."
"And do what?" There is a sharpness in her words, one Apple could not forget. "What would we do? Live our lives like traitors? Leave behind our friends, our families, our futures? No, not me. That life… It's not for me, but it can be yours. Leave me, keep yourself safe."
Apple turned again. The cotton sheets twisted around her ankles like a snare, tighter with every troubled churning. Memories of thick curtains, shifting chiffon, and frantic touches danced behind closed eyes.
"Apple, please."
"I can't… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"
The spotlight's blinding light as she stepped out on stage awoke her, propelled her out of bed. Before she knew what she was doing, she was pulling a silk shift over her shoulders and closing the bedroom door behind herself.
She allowed her body to guide her, move her closer to the forbidden. The strings had snapped once more and there was no time to think about tying herself back together. Deft feet padded down the stairwell and into the castle dungeon, where torches ignited upon her approach and lighted the dusty stones. Winding her way through musty corridors, she came upon a door, unusually marked with a black plaque. She pushed its iron handle, yet the door would not open. Again and again she tried until desperation came over her and she threw her shoulder against the wood, sending herself tumbling into a great hall.
The torches on the walls flared to reveal a rather sparse hall, only containing an array of devilish tapestries that read like a story the further into the hall Apple moved, and a curious object at its end. Apple put her palm to the object, cold as ice, and stared hard into its smoky depths.
"Hello?" she called, voice shaking.
Nothing.
"I know you're there. Please, talk to me. I-I need to see you."
Nothing.
She closed her eyes. Knowing there was only one way to assure a presence, she prepared herself. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, show me the prisoner of your hall." Her heart leapt when the haze began to clear and, ever so slightly, she moved away.
At first, there was only darkness, a black so deep Apple wondered what kind of world the mirror prison held within. She quickly realized that it would do her well not to think too hard about it. Finally, an image began to appear from its depths and materialized into a startlingly beautiful face.
"Your Majesty," came a sarcastic voice, so painfully familiar that it gripped Apple's throat like a vice. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning?"
Apple choked, drinking in the defined and darkened features of the woman in front of her to the point of dizziness. By the time she was able to regain her voice, she could only manage a vague, "I'm sorry to do things this way, but I had to see you."
Her full lips curled into a sneer. "What's the matter? The place in bed beside your husband tonight not as pleasurable as you'd like, so you must come and lend me woe?" she asked with a sudden bite.
"No, no," Apple cried, clenching at her shift. "That's not what I meant. I came to say I'm sorry, for everything. I may not deserve your forgiveness, but I am sorry, so sorry."
Without skipping a heartbeat, she laughed, her perfect mouth contorted into something vicious. "You're becoming a bit of a melancholic songbird, aren't you, Your Majesty? This is not the first time you've come to me in the dead of night. As much as I like to know you're miserable, I do tire of these meetings."
Apple could feel herself beginning to shrink under the weight of her words, always so cool and calculated, unlike her crumbling self.
"Please," she begged quietly, "don't be cruel. This isn't you. Where is the friend I knew in childhood?"
A smile flickered across her face like a grimace. "That girl is dead," she hissed, "her meaningless place taken up by the Evil Queen."
"You know as well as I that the Evil Queen is no more than a character in a tale, a name off a book's page," she said, but it came out all wrong. Instead of being dignified like her typical language, it was quiet, weak.
"Ah, but is the ink in that book not of the same blood, blackened and seeping, that runs through my heart? Are the characters in our fairy tales not as real as the people who bled and wept and lost to live their roles? Do they really mean so little to you now, Your Majesty? The roles we play, insignificant?" she asked with raised brow. "Tsk. I thought you believed in the lessons they taught, of heroes who always marry the lovely girls and evil women who rot away in prisons."
"Stop it!" She lashed out, unable to bear having her own beliefs thrown back into her face with malice. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because it seems you do not fully comprehend our situation," she said, her voice drifting. There was something in the way her eyes bored through Apple that drew her in, as if they were compelling her to understand a hidden meaning. "We made our choices, you see, and now we must live with them. I chose to sign my name that day and now, imprisoned and alone, I must accept that choice… as must you."
"But I don't understand," Apple wept. "Why did you do it? Why didn't you run away like I told you to?"
The face in the mirror hardened. "You know why," was all she said.
Apple searched those deep eyes, wiser and more vigilant than she once knew them to be, but always passionate, even… in her decision to embrace her destiny.
Apple's eyes widened.
"Raven."
She flinched at the name. A coldness fell upon her face like frost, protecting the delicate being beneath its icy layer.
"Raven, I…"
"Don't." The word came like a warning, hard and cautious.
Apple stared. "You put me under a curse. All this time, the haze I've always met when I thought about us in the past. The strange dreams. The emptiness. The space that your name once filled. It was you."
"You couldn't stay away, could you?" Raven snapped. A small crack fractured the mirror. "You had to keep picking at the boundaries of my spell, keep visiting me in the night, even when I was cruel to you. You couldn't just leave me be and be happy in your new life." The fracture spider webbed off into different directions.
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because you left me! You chose a life of comfort and riches, where everyone would adore you, and you left me. The worst part is, I still loved you. I only ever wanted you to be happy, Apple, so I signed the book for you and made you forget you ever loved me." With that, the mirror shattered.
Hundreds of jagged pieces of glass spilled over the stone floor, sending Apple stumbling backwards. She threw her arms out to brace herself for the fall when a pair of hands suddenly reached forward and caught her by the wrists.
Raven slowly moved Apple, pulling her body close, as the realization that they were both there, no cold glass between them, struck Apple. The blonde slid her fingers over Raven's matured face and worked to convince herself that that softness of her dark hair and the heady scent of her perfume were real, and not just figments of her crazed imagination.
"I did it so you could be happy, even if it wasn't with me," Raven breathed, so close to her face that Apple could feel her warm breath on her cheeks.
Apple shook her head. "Scared children make poor choices. I was wrong to sign. Now I know I could never love someone as much as I love you, and no amount of riches or approval is worth that."
Apple traced the other woman's features, bewitched by the beauty and appeal she found in them. Raven closed her eyes briefly to savor the love in her touch and, when she opened them, a sense of resolve filled their cores.
Raven clutched the hand that stroked her face. She opened it and kissed its palm, and then in a moment of decision met the beautiful queen's lips with a kiss.
The kiss was fierce, filled with years of yearning. Apple had never felt such a strong sense of desire, melted together with the softness and warmth of her lips. It left her head spinning. Then, all too suddenly, she felt herself become faint. Her body felt like it was floating as Raven sunk to the floor with her in her arms.
Her eyes strained to focus, instead fixating on the tapestry over Raven's shoulder, depicting a gnarled, old woman offering an apple to a naïve girl. When they refocused, her eyes met Raven's with questions searing in her gaze. Darkness seeped into the edges of Apple's vision, closing in until nothing but Raven's tear-stained face remained.
"I'm sorry, my love," she said, voice sounding distant. "I wish more than anything that we could be together, but we've made our choices, you see, and now we must live with them."
The darkness of the Evil Queen's curse surged, washing Apple's memories with a cold fog. Sealed with a kiss, the powerful magic overcame the last of her will, and shrouded her in a sleep like death.
