A/N: I've been craving some angst as well as some Leah/Jazz so bad of late, plus I got this idea for a fractured fairytale contest I didn't have that time to enter. Anyway, this is the end product. The world it's set in is a mix, part fairytale kingdom, part New World and part modern world. A combination of the flaws in all three, I guess.

Not all Princes' are pure of heart.

Some are ruthless and uncaring. Some have blackened hearts of coal and cinders, little more than ash. Some have hands that have taken a life, and others have those who have taken lives for them. Some are given everything they could want, while others take that which belongs to no man.

Purity, chastity, innocence- archaic notions.

Freedom, basic rights, human kindness- ideals unknown to this world.

There were no heroes here. Heroes were a thing of legends- whispers told to the young to protect them from the horrors of the world. They were stories, regurgitated from parent to child, until they became a sickly sweet, mess of lies, ended abruptly with an unobtainable happily ever after.

With age and hardships, the stories lost their luster. Reality was evidence that a hero with a bow and arrow was no match for a villain.

Oh yes, there were villains. Even without heroes, without stories, there were villains. Villains didn't need weaponry; they didn't need anything other than motivation and time. Most importantly though, they needed victims. Victims were the fuel to feed that insatiable thirst that plagued them. They were their sport and their entertainment through the long and arduous days, where a man fought to live past thirty against every element this young world could throw at him.

I was all too familiar with villains. They were the company I kept in my darkened part of the kingdom. The seedy side, where rouge and eyeliner were used to cover the marks of an overzealous client. Where each woman in this house took care of what the men tired of forcing their wives to attempt. Our reward? A scarlet letter and a tarnished reputation for doing nothing but a community service. Our home was a haven to the scourge of the earth between dusk and dawn. The unkind daylight hours exposing the dark circles under our eyes and the bruises on our bodies. Our home belonged to them, the men who watched us as pieces of meat, slowly taking a part of our souls with them every time they did up their belt buckles.

But it was my home, my life, and here I lay, in the familiar alleyway outside of my sanctuary, with these thoughts to keep me company while slowly fare-welling the shell of a body that had held me captive these twenty-two years.

Death was more uncomfortable than I had predicted, although not as painful as the alternative of life. The living were always cautious of death, whether they knew it or not. There was a peace in releasing yourself from such constrictions, an ease. It was an escape from a world that had never welcomed me in the first place, and now I was finally able to turn my back on it.

A chill had settled itself deep within my body that I had never felt before as I lay naked on the gravel and dirt that carpeted the ground. Had I the strength, I would roll myself off of the broken arm I was laying on and let the stars of the night sky be my last visions of this earth. Instead, I was forced to lay exposed to the world, blanketed in a pool of my own blood and covered in nothing but the marks of their hands and the cuts of their knives. I was dying the way I had lived. Alone, unprotected- every flaw I owned on display for all to see.

I had envisioned my death many times and this scenario was far from surprising. It went hand in hand with the line of work I had committed myself to. From tragic beginnings to tragic ends.

Ha. Such was the story of Leah Clearwater.

But there had been one small glimmer of light in the tragedy of my story. The reason I was able to actually live the last three years, having numbed myself to the world before that. The reason I wanted to feel, instead of cowering from emotion, and the reason I clung to this world now instead of going gently into the light.

It was you.

I still remember the first time I saw you in our home of garish red suede and imitation Parisian wallpaper. It was charmingly obvious you didn't belong. Your skin was a stark, pure white that contrasted the others who frequented these parts. The ones who bathed as occasionally as they let a kind word pass their lips. But you, you were different, as you stood speaking with our matron, your eyes burning through my own, even from the other side of the room.

"I want her."

Looking back it would seem that from that moment on you had me- not that I knew it at the time. Neither of us spoke those first few visits. Words lead to pleasantries which lead to familiarity and comfort. Comfort lead to questions and questions lead to answers. Answers meant that I would lose myself to you completely and part of my job was to separate my reality from yours.

Instead we fucked.

Or at least, I tried. But sex with you wasn't sex. It was something that the English language was unable to name. It was fire and energy and light. You were light. A light that I hadn't known existed in my time on this God forsaken plane. Each thrust reached through to my limbs, each groan melted deep within my bones and each taste of your skin seared my soul, restoring it more than I deserved as my hips clenched and buckled with you deep inside me.

I never told you, but you were the only man who was able to do that to me. The only man who was ever able to make my body convulse violently in that way, and the only man who was able to show me the beauty in an act that I had come to think of as mundane as combing my hair. And that was still before our introductions.

To this day you never actually told me your name but I, like everyone else in this kingdom, knew it as well as my own. Prince Jasper Whitlock III. Next in line to rule this farce of a monarchy. And here you were, my Prince, sneaking away from your duties. You ventured into the sordid side of town, under the cloaking of night, to rent my body for an entire evening. But you got more than just my body, you got everything. Even in silence, I gave you everything. Everything I could.

In your absence I was able to escape into a new world as I let the others pollute the flesh that I distanced myself from when it was not your skin on mine. The old world was of childhood memories, long gone relatives and those few I had called friends. The new world of escapism though, this was built on recent memories. Your soft, pale hands running over the copper of my skin, my back arched in pleasure with your head resting on my chest and the warmth from your breath that made my body shiver whenever your lips were near.

And all of this with nothing but silence between us.

It was after the first year that you said your very first words to me. Your breath grazing my cheek bones as I took in that familiar scent of expensive cigars and whiskey that you often wore.

"I'm in love with you."

And with those words my world fell apart, spoken with a heavy drawl that was common in these parts but never so beautiful as when passed through your lips.

Before that moment I had resigned myself to live day by day, and suddenly I was exposed to a future I wasn't destined for. You were the hero of my stories, my own personal saviour, in a world where faith and hope and magic all co-existed. But you were promised to the princess of a neighbouring kingdom. A pixie whose beauty was often spoken of by those in the respectable parts of the kingdom. The wealthier ones, the ones who thrived in the sunlight and spoke like gentlefolk. Those who knew their place in society and would never put a man in his place with the 4-inch heel of their shoe shoved into his crotch. Those who labeled my kind with our scarlet letters and those who would never welcome me into their world- with their Prince at my side or not.

So I took your words and kept them in my heart, but I refused to let them leave my own mouth, even if I meant them more than any truth I had ever spoken. You were too good to me, never once pressing me for more than I was not ready to give. You would tell me stories of your day, your home, your siblings, the battle scars on your arms, your everything. You shared with me because you wanted me to be as much of a part of your life as I could. I appreciated it, as I lay with my head on your chest and soaked up every word.

Then your monthly visits became weekly as you found some excuse to give your family, slipping out to spend your nights with me. I started to share my stories with you and you hung off of every last word, asking follow up questions with a hunger to find out all you could about me. It was disarming at first, but then it became too easy for me to confide in you as your fingers ran through my hair and you held me as my protector. As if the evils of the world were nothing while I was with you.

But you couldn't always protect me. Even if you offered with every weekly visit.

"Come run away with me Leah. We can start a life on somewhere that my name means nothing, and where you'll no longer have to work in this fucking hell hole of a home. Come with me, where I can hold you always, and share you with no man."

I smiled. I always smiled, and you always answered with the same answer.

"Every time I see the sadness in your eyes, that smile of yours breaks my heart, darling."

You asked me every week for the last two years until two months prior to this very day. Then it became daily, as you paid my rates for the entire week, allowing me to stop working. You were warned by those who watched over you to stay away from my part of town, there were whispers starting and your nuptials were fast approaching. You didn't care though. As much as I told you to be careful, you didn't care. You continued to ask for my hand with stories of how our life could be. I continued to refuse you.

I wanted to say yes. God, how I wanted to say yes. Every time I gave my answer it broke my own heart, but I would not be responsible for stealing you away from the life you had made. I could share you with her, as you had to share me. I knew that what we had was too strong for there to be any connection with your new bride. I knew from experience.

So I denied our fairytale life in the country where we ate from the land and spent our days raising caramel skinned children. Sassy mouthed girls, like their momma, and strong, quiet gentlemen, like their dad. I denied the fantasy because I was scared. I was too scared to accept that so much good could come to one the world had repeatedly violated.

And then I didn't see you for a whole week and that week hurt me more than the pain I was suffering through now. Without a word, you were gone, and all I could do was wait until the next night with the hopes that you hadn't woken up to the fraud of a human being I was, that you hadn't figured out I didn't deserve you.

I looked for you in everything. Those stupid cigars you smoked, the scent of you on my pillow... I waited up through the day as well as the night, sleeping upright for only minutes at a time. I looked for you in everything, but you were nowhere to be found.

And then last night you came. You came back to me and I started to drown in every part of you. I grabbed at your skin, flinging my arms around you. You did the same, pulling me into you, wrapping your warmth around me and kissing whatever your lips could find.

"I'm sorry, my love. I had to make plans. My wedding is tomorrow and I just...I can't do this. I refuse to tell her I will be hers forever when we both know that I am yours. I know you've said no a thousand times to me-maybe more- but I've gone ahead and done it anyway. Tomorrow at dawn, I shall be waiting for you. Tomorrow at dawn- if you accept my offer- shall be the start of our new life together."

You were there in my arms and although I could feel you, your words made no sense. You were giving up all you had for, me? Me? I was nothing but a common whore, worthy of no man and wanted by all. You were a Prince, even though you never spoke down to me as one. You were destined for greater things than a life in the country with me.

A life that we could build alongside one another. A life where I could be free of my sordid history and you both the responsibilities of a loveless marriage and duties to an ungrateful kingdom.

A life...together.

"Yes." I whispered into you neck. You pulled away, holding my face between your hands.

"What?" You asked, begging for my answer.

"I will be there- waiting for you."

"I...," You started, your eyes glistening at my response as you could barely contain your excitement, "I...have to go! I have to. They're already suspicious and have been instructed to keep me from this place. I will be back tomorrow though, my love. Tomorrow our life together will begin."

You kissed me with a pure, unadulterated love that burned through my lips, my neck, my body...right down to my feet, and I held you as closely as I could, not wanting to let go. The kiss was too short though as you ran from my arms, turning one final time to smile thankfully at me as you left the door.

I packed and I sang as I did it, and I farewelled those left behind in the life I was abandoning. I was prepared to leave too early but I was done with this house and could no longer stand to be sheltered by it, not now that I had a choice.

Standing outside, awaiting my hero, I didn't even notice the villain lurking in the shadows. It was not unusual to see such a figure waiting out in this very alleyway, but soon that person multiplied into three and all three men approached from either side.

I was day dreaming of you and our life together when I was grabbed.

And now I lay on this familiar dirt, as lonely as I was in life. Sheltered by nothing, and cared for by no man.

But there was one. One who tried. I spent a life time being empty, refusing to let love get too close, and yet here, in my darkest hour, it was that love that diluted the overwhelming terror that threatened to choke me in my final moments. It was the memories of Jasper, my Jasper, and his soft caress against my blemished skin.

Death was here now. The shaking in my body and the coldness of my bones was the announcement of her arrival. I would still not walk willingly towards her. She could collect me and carry my soul to wherever she wanted. I clung to this world because of him. Moments more of polluted air and vile scenery, just to replay the memory of his lips upon mine one last time.

But she was a fighter. She pulled me and tugged at me and I finally began to give in.

And then I heard the voice of my angel, farewelling me from this plane, and I fought her off once again to stay.

"Leah! LEAH,CAN YOU HEAR ME? God, Leah...who did this to you? Who hurt you?"

My angel's soft hands ran over my uncooperative body. Death had forbidden it to share with him the answers he seeked. Not that I could provide them anyway. I'm sure your family would be able to answer that question for you. I hadn't even seen their faces. I never saw another man's face after I had had you. They all blurred together in the same stream of unshaven messes and unkempt hair. They didn't deserve my attention.

You though, you didn't deserved to watch me die.

"Leah, please...please God, please...just wait. Wait for me. I can help. I'm so late but I can do, I can do something."

Your face was twisted in agony and streamed with tears. The fading humanity in me shed a tear at your pain while you shook and thrashed my body in the hopes of some sort of response. I couldn't open my eyes if I tried. Instead I was ushered away from this place, listening to that sweet, melodic voice of yours as the last sounds from a world that had otherwise condemned me.

"No! Sweet Jesus...Please, we were about to start a life together- finally...just the two of us. Together..."

But death insisted that I join her, and I fought no more.

I lay dying as I had lived my life. Loved too late, but loved in the end.