This is a random story I wrote, inspired by the song Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. I kind of used their ideas and used some of the same wording in a few instances... But its not a songfic so I can't get in trouble for it! Enjoy and remember to review!
He squeezed through the thorns at last. They ripped and tore at him as he went. He was almost there. He could see the castle, right in front him, just through the last bit of thorns blocking his way. He'd almost made it; he'd be there in a moment. He'd be a hero, he'd have all the glory he'd ever dreamed of when he set off from him homeland, leaving everything behind.
He paused for a moment, considering home. He remembered the night as clearly as if it had been yesterday. They'd had a ball for him, to celebrate his quest, to bid him farewell. Elsa had been there. He remembered the way she'd danced, so graceful and her hair, long and brown and flowing about her. She was beautiful. She was his best friend.
She stood against the wall, watching the dancing. Everything was colorful, skirts twirled, people laughed and talked together. Except for her. She didn't have anyone to dance with. She'd never been allowed to meet people, really, men in particular. She wasn't supposed to be attached to anything. She'd get her prince, sure enough, a hundred years from now. Until then she would wait.
She hadn't exactly done that. She did have friends, or one at least. Rowan. She smiled slightly, thinking of the times they'd had together and the things they'd done. They ran around in the fields together, waltzing in the meadows and swimming in the lake. He was her best friends. She supposed, in a hundred years he'd be gone. And even if he wasn't, she couldn't be with him. He was a gardener and she was a princess.
She'd told him she loved him that night. He always knew, he supposed, but they'd never said anything. It wasn't supposed to have ever happened. She'd begged him not to go, to forget being a hero, forget glory, and forget fate. While everyone else told him what to do and where to go, she told him to forget the world. They could run away together and just live, forever.
He couldn't do that, though. This quest had been ordained from him. It was his fate, his destiny, set for him even before time. A hundred years had past since the curse had fallen upon the kingdom and he was the son of a king, the man who had been foretold to come and break it. It was his duty to clear away the thorns, turn the palace back to how it once was and most importantly, wake her.
He wondered if she would like him, and if she would really want to be woken up by a stranger kissing her. He wondered if she'd be as nice and as beautiful Elsa, if she would love him as much. She would, wouldn't she, if this was truly his fate?
He came to the ball, to talk to her. She told him to go away, he wasn't supposed to be there. She didn't know what to say to him. She couldn't tell him she loved him, she'd have to say too much, and it could never be enough for him to understand. Maybe somehow he did anyways.
"We don't need them, Rose!" he pleaded with her. "We don't need anything, or anyone! We can just be together, forever."
She bit her lip. She wanted to believe him, but she was cursed. Curses didn't just go away. "I can't," she said shakily. "I'm cursed, Rowan, a hundred years is too long. You'll be gone, and I'll have a prince to marry."
He sighed and pushed himself through the thorns. He'd made it through. The gates were open; he simply walked through. It was easy. The halls were dusty and everything was silent, eerily silent, and overrun with spiderwebs. He remembered what he'd been told about the place. The princess was supposed to be in the tallest room in the tallest tower.
He found it easily enough, as if he was supposed to find it. Maybe he was. It would make sense, wouldn't it, if this was fate? But there was something odd when he entered the room. She was there, of course, and as lovely as he'd ever imagined her, but another lay beside her. He was in servant's garb, and he certainly couldn't be anyone of importance, but his hand was holding the princess' and he slept soundly beside her. A rose grew between them, with no thorns, blooming in a brilliant red.
"I love you, Rose, that's never going to change. Not in a hundred years, not in a thousand. Listen, I'll sit with you through the curse, I'll sleep right next to you. We can just lay there, forever, and nothing is ever going to change for us. I need you, Rose!" He held his hand out to her.
She bit her lip. She loved him so much, it hurt. Fate was against them, she didn't how this would ever work out, she was the one that was cursed not him. But maybe he was right, maybe they could just forget the rest of the world forever. She slipped her hand into his.
He stared at them for a time, wondering what to do. It seemed like they'd broken all the rules; she was supposed to love him, wasn't she? That's what he'd been told, all his life. He bent down over her face. He would kiss her, this was what he'd been born for. He hesitated, looking at her face. She was smiling. She looked...happy.
The spinning wheel was in front of them, old and wooden. The needle stuck up out of it, long and sharp-tipped. It would easily cut anything that touched it. "Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked Rowan, glancing up at him with worried eyes.
"Not at all!" he said jovially. "But we'll do it anyways. Together."
She turned towards him, stood on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you."
He smiled. "I love you, too."
She slipped her small hand into his larger one. They extended their hands outward, towards the needle, and pressed it between their fingers. Together they felt the sharp prick and the drop of blood as the needle sunk into both their fingers.
Maybe she didn't want to wake up. Maybe she wanted to lay there forever, with him beside her, whoever he was. Maybe it had gone against everything they'd ever been told, but they didn't care. Maybe they hadn't known what would happen, they didn't know how they were going to this, but they were going to do it all the same—together.
He stood back up, and thought of Elsa, watching him with her perfect brown eyes. He loved her. He would never love some princess from a hundred years ago, some girl who meant nothing to him. And he was pretty sure that she'd never love him either. Maybe fate didn't have to happen. Maybe they could all just be, together, and just forget the world.
She felt tired, suddenly, like she was slipping away. Rowan looked the same. His eyes were closing slowly, but he smiled at her slightly. They moved towards the bed in the middle of the room, collapsing onto it. They would just lay there, forgetting everything else, until the end of time. And they would be together.
He glanced at them one last time, sleeping so peacefully. Then he turned away, leaving them alone. He'd go home, back to Elsa, and ask her to marry him. He didn't care what anyone else said, they didn't matter, but she did.They would be together, just like the princess and her servant boy.