Disclaimer: I don't own anything really I don't, in fact I'm not sure this plot idea is original -_____-'''

Author's note: So! I'm sorry about being late, and stoof, but I'm dedicating this story to your birthday, athazala, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! I hope you like the story, I'm working on FI but my brain is seriously frazzled :3.

This is going to be a three shot and I decided to try my hand at a kind of Cinderella story ^____^. Hopefully they won't seem to OOC, but this i my humble opinion of what they would have been like in this situation :D. Oh and before I forget, totally Asucaga :3 the other characters may make appearances throughout the story but not immediately.



Fairytale Meetings
can't take no more of your fairytale love...

Her breath was being wrenched from her lungs coming out in desperate gasps for air. The beat of her high-heeled feet tapped a rhythm to her harsh breaths as the wind rippling through her hair created a melody. Faster, I need to run faster. She thought to herself as her trembling hands gripped the voluminous silk folds of her elaborate ball gown. She could still hear the arrogant violins playing from the ballroom but she couldn't look back. The sounds of several boots hitting the ground caused her to just keep running. She could hear them yelling after her, their voices soft over the roaring in her ears. She felt overheated and could feel the sweat rolling down her back. She stumbled a little as she raced up what seemed to be an everlasting staircase. Where were the guards and the maids? Why were they not patrolling the castle? Then it hit her. A trap.

The piercing evening breeze chilled the sweat on her back and she shivered as she stared across the abandoned tower roof. It was a dead end. The sounds of running coming closer spurred her into action and before she could quite comprehend what she was doing she was running across the roof and standing on the outer edge of the tower. Balancing precariously on the stone railing she took one last glance behind her, and saw several flickering shadows looming closer. Closing her eyes, she braced herself as she took one last deep breath sending a desperate prayer to the heavens.

She jumped.

~0~0~0~0~

A dark haired man strode purposely through the woods, inhaling the sweet night smell that the forest gave off. He didn't take out the flashlight that was tucked securely into his backpack, as the moon was unusually large this time of year. The silver light was so bright that he could see his surroundings almost as well as if he had been walking in daylight. The animals didn't mind him, as they had grown used to his seemingly endless hikes through the woods surrounding the famous Castle of Roses. He did not mind them as well as he hurried down the path until at last he saw the woods thinning in front of him and the telltale glimmer of water. He all but jogged the last few yards to the serene lake where he raised his arms in a comfortable stretch.

Rolling out the kinks of his shoulders his backpack fell to the ground with a soft thud and he just stood there admiring his surroundings. The lake was heart achingly beautiful, and he never grew tired of coming here. Rosewater Lake at night always seemed to inhabit that magical place between fairytale and legend. He had never lost that feeling that one day, if he came enough, he would at last be able to glimpse the delicate sparkle of fairy wings hiding within the green leaves of the tree, or catch the mischievous child's face that could only belong to Puck winking at him. Stooping down he picked up his backpack and was just looking around to find a place to sit when something saw something out of the corner of his eye. He froze.

Only the rustle of the wind through the trees greeted him, and the gentle lapping of water filled his ears. Shaking his head he had just taken a few steps towards the bank of the lake when a loud splash disturbed the solitude. All he could see was long hair and a white slender arm before it had disappeared again. His body was diving into the lake before he could even register what he was doing, and it took the frigid water of the lake to snap him back into his senses. She was drowning, and he had stood there like an idiot as she did. He cut quickly through the water and dove where he had last seen her. Frantically he swam combing the dark water looking for her.

It was her long hair that he saw first before he took her in his arms, but just as he wrapped his arms around her waist he caught a glimpse of terrified brown eyes pleading with him for help. He kicked in an effort to make it back to the surface as he saw her eyes falling shut and then he realized what had inhibited her ability to swim. Her waterlogged skirts were weighing her down, but he somehow managed to wrench her free of it. His own breath was burning fiercely in his lungs. They shot forward the minute the dress was off, and he broke the surface with a gasp. Swimming haphazardly towards the shore he deposited her unconscious form on the cool sand and checked her vital signs. He sat back gasping for air, relieved that he had made it in time.

His eyes couldn't help but stare at the woman lying before him, chunks of what looked like blonde hair lay tangled around her pale face and the thin white fabric of her under dress seemed to shine in the moonlight. She didn't seem real to him, he almost thought that she was a mermaid a gift from the naiad belonging to Rosewater. Angry shouts echoed through the woods and he whirled his head springing into action. The skills he had picked up during the three years he had spent in the military had never left him and in a blur of motion he snatched his backpack and cradling her dove into the bushes around the lake. He watched as a group of men dressed in black came and searched for a body only leaving when they found the sodden ballroom dress that he had torn off her earlier. Turning to the girl who looked as if she was sleeping peacefully he sighed and arranged her on his back before heading to his car. Whoever you are little mermaid, you must be really important.

~0~0~0~0~

The feeling of something tickling her nose bothered her. Wrinkling the offended appendage she huffed and turned her back to whatever it was bothering her and gave a quietly contented sigh before snuggling deeper in the comfort of the wonderfully soft comforter. The soft comforter was so perfect not silk like the other princesses preferred but soft cotton that was just a bit rough. She inhaled the smell of pine trees and vanilla and decided she liked that combination. Wait. Pine trees and vanilla? Her eyes shot open meeting a tan wall with books stacked high along it. This was not her familiar mint green wallpaper. Her eyes traveled down to the comforter and sheets that she had currently wrapped herself around. Her legs were tangled in velvety forest green sheets; she did not have green sheets hers were a prim white with blue floral patterns.

The tick of a clock she couldn't see echoed in her ears, and no sound came out of her open mouth. She shut her eyes tightly silently praying that this was all a dream. Please, please, please let this be a dream. She opened one eye the same image of books crammed into low bookshelves with notebooks laying half open and arrayed around the room greeted her. She opened the other eye and was faintly surprised to see large pictures arranged in frames of all shapes and sizes along the walls. For a half second she allowed a small smile to dance on her lips, the room reminded her of some crazy professor that you saw in movies with white hair and enormous glasses. Then she shook herself out of it and shut her eyes again. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled and then opened her eyes again. She opened them slowly this time and decided that she was not dreaming as the same walls greeted her along with the same books, journals, man standing at the door, pictures in frames. Wait. Man standing at the door? She winced and turned her head back slowly to meet warm emerald eyes looking at her with amusement. "Good morning Rose."

~0~0~0~0~

He had entered the room when her eyes were shut tightly looking so much like a little girl that he couldn't help but smile. When she opened them ever so slowly to reveal the light molten brown eyes he found himself transfixed by them. His mind was rapidly running through all the colors that he knew and whether or not he could assign them to this girl's strange eyes. He was a little taken aback not realizing that he had somehow linked her eye color to the freshest blue waters he could find, the color of a true mermaid. Even if her eye color was wrong she looked as out of place as a mermaid out of water. She was huddled on his bed trying to demurely cover herself with his comforter as her brilliant hair cascaded in impossibly long locks around her. Maybe she wasn't a mermaid after all. The way she held her head high with a proud tilt, the golden brown eyes that seemed to blaze independence to him with a hint of fear, but it was the long golden locks that shone so majestically in the air like a crown. Maybe she wasn't a mermaid but instead the regal Lady of the Lake sent here to give him his Excalibur. Their eyes met at last and he couldn't help but smile at the shock in them. "Good morning Rose."

The name slipped out before he realized it but he found that he liked it, Rose seemed to fit the mysterious woman looking at him. "Feel free to use the shower and change into some new clothes. Breakfast will be done by the time you're done."

She continued to gape at him while he turned and carelessly shut the door behind him, a half smile still lingering on his lips.

~0~0~0~0~

She was furious caught in her state of confusion and undress, that jerk had the nerve to laugh at her! She vaulted out of the bed and angrily wrenched open one of the three doors in the room. Racks of threadbare tweed jackets, dress shirts, and worn slacks greeted her. She noted the almost obsessive compulsive way they were arranged by color, accessory, and make. Glancing down scuffed dress shoes, and used sneakers were also arranged neatly. She slammed the door shut and wrenched open the door right next to it. Bingo. She stomped into the tiny bathroom attached to what appeared to be the master bedroom and shut the door. The bathroom was arranged just as neatly as the closet, which irked her to know end. She needed a hot shower, and she needed it now. She quickly stripped herself of her shift and underclothes and stepped immediately into the shower, simultaneously turning it on. She screamed the minute the jets of freezing cold water hit her bare skin and startled she slipped and landed hard on her butt.

Twenty minutes later she stepped out of the shower satisfied and happy, the steam from her shower seemed to make everything hazy. Quickly drying herself and putting her undergarments on she wiped her hand across the mirror and stared at her reflection. She didn't want to go back, not yet. For once in her life she felt free of the all-encompassing shackles that the royal life had placed on her. She knew that she had somehow tripped the lock on her gilded cage, and decided that she would not go back just yet. If even for a few days she would revel in being normal. Opening the door she stepped out to look in the closet for something to wear her mind whirling with her plans. She didn't care if people called her spoiled, called her foolish. She would go back soon enough and then she would be content to have at least spent however few hours she had wonderfully, happily free. As she brazenly slipped on one of the nicer dress shirts deftly buttoning it up, she was surprised to find a pair of jean girl shorts lying there and raised an elegant blonde eyebrow. Shrugging she slipped into it as well finding it only slightly bigger then what she normally wore.

Her eyes drifted to the nightstand as she was just about to leave the room and she caught sight of a pair of silver scissors. She could feel the damp tendrils of hair seeping into the back of her shirt and biting her lip she reached for the scissors. Feeling the cool metal in her hands she lifted it to her face. Pulling forth one long strand of her hair she heard the swish of the hair falling to the wooden floor and broke out in a wide smile. Racing into the bathroom she triumphantly cut the long hair that she had been forced to grow and keep since childhood, success radiating from her being.

~0~0~0~0~

He had finished his share of breakfast a long time ago, and was now nursing his third cup of coffee while lost in the words of his book. He absentmindedly stirred his cup of black coffee sometimes stopping to jot down notes in his half filled notebook. He didn't look up until he heard the sound of someone joining him at the table. He glanced up at her lost in thought before retreating back to his book. It took the sound of someone angrily yelling at him to look up again. He found blazing honey brown eyes searing into him burning through the fog in his mind. He coughed, "Sorry, did you say something."

She seemed to be contemplating what to say to him and when she finally spoke it was the last thing he expected her to say. "The food is cold."

"You're telling me this because?" he didn't try to hold back the irritation in his voice. This woman had pulled him out of his book to state the obvious.

"I can't eat cold food." She said evenly and slowly, he could tell she was holding back her anger.

"It's your own fault for taking so long to get ready." He retorted seething with resentment. He had saved her life and now she wanted him to be her slave? How insulting. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Heat it up." She said slowly as if talking to a child. He slammed his book shut with a loud snap. Standing up he picked up her plate, and then dragged her up from her sitting position while she was protesting vehemently.

"Let me go you-you jerk!" she cried as they entered the kitchen. He slammed the plate down on the counter before the microwave while she wrenched her arm out of his hold gingerly massaging it. "It's a microwave, use it."

Then he turned on his heel and left the gaping woman and sat down with a satisfied smile and opened his book once more. It wasn't until an hour later when he realized that he needed more coffee and found that the blonde had not returned yet. Finding himself worried against his will he hurried towards the kitchen. It wasn't possible to die while using the microwave was it? There could have been some freak accident, he supposed, like the plate exploding and sending shards into her pale skin letting her bleed to death. It was impossible, right? Just in case he all but ran to the kitchen and was relieved to see the blonde alive and well still standing before the microwave. She looked up with proud eyes when he entered though he noticed that she had been staring at the plate. The food had been untouched though he noticed that the fork in her hand was suspended suspiciously near the plate as if he had caught her in the act.

"What the hell do you want." She snapped angrily before turning her back to him. She slammed the fork down on the countertop and crossed her arms. In a fit of petulance that reminded him of a child he almost expected her to stick her tongue out at him when he moved closer.

"Is the food not good enough for her highness?" he said with a sigh of sarcasm. She didn't acknowledge him so he just picked up the plate and started to wrap it up in cellophane. The crinkle of the cellophane seemed to echo loudly during the uncomfortable silence that seemed to crackle between them. He had just about finished when she nervously started to shift her weight along the balls of her feet, "Wait. I'm sorry I didn't mean--"

She was interrupted by a gurgle coming from her stomach. A slow grin started to form on his face and he straightened up just in time to see the cherry color staining her cheeks. It was cute, even if she refused to meet his eyes. "I don't know how to use a microwave!"

"You're serious? What are you a cavewoman? Are you really from this century?" he couldn't help but stare blankly at her. Was she for real?

"Of course I'm from this century!" she childishly stamped her foot, her red cheeks were puffed and at last she was meeting his gaze. "It's just that we have servants to do everything for us, Papa doesn't like it when we do things that the maids are hired for!"

"Aren't we a pampered princess, Rose. Whose the we?" He teased her as he moved towards the microwave tugging her gently after him.

"My twin brother and stop calling me Rose! That's not my name!" she snapped though her eyes were curiously watching him put the plate in the microwave.

"I don't have any hired help so you're going to have to learn how to do these things on your own."

"Wait. You're letting me stay?" she had whirled him around and her small hands were warm on the skin of his arms. He felt rough calluses on the fingers and wondered how this spoilt and pampered girl had managed to get them. Her eyes were fiery pools in the morning sunlight drifting from the window. "I have no money, I can't pay you. I can't help with the house chores because I don't know how to do them, I'm spoiled, stubborn, and have the worst temper alive."

"So? You don't have a place to stay either, and from what I saw last night you have nowhere to go. There's an empty room that I just use for books that you can stay in. It's small and definitely not what you're used to but—"

"Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me." Before he knew what was happening she had thrown her arms around him squeezing the stuffing out of him. "I promise that I'll make it up to you somehow!"

The ends of her hair tickled his ear, and his arms had just about to lower when the sound of the microwave beeping startled them. She was gone in a flash, plate and fork in hand calling back to him, "Could you pour me a cup of coffee too? Easy on the sugar but heavy on the cream! Thank you!"

~0~0~0~0~

"My name's Cagalli," the sound of her voice echoed in the silent living room. She had decided not to lie about her name to him, he had already been so kind to her that she felt he deserved the truth. "So stop calling me Rose."

"That's a pretty name Cagalli." He looked up from his book and shut it at last capping his pen and shuffling them to the side. "I'm Athrun."

"Done reading?" she teased. He had spent the entire time engrossed in his book; sometimes she had felt he didn't even realize she was there. It was a new feeling to her, refreshing.

"Sorry, I just often get lost in my research." He answered her while taking a sip from his coffee. "I've just managed to get a hold of some resources that are pretty rare, so I've been busy."

"Oh? What kind of research are you doing? Are you a student?" she asked curiously eying him up and down. It would fit the image of him more then the mad scientist, the absent minded research student.

"Actually I'm a professor. I just got my doctorate last year and was lucky enough to have the University of Orb, Onogoro pick me up as a professor. It seems they liked my research."

She choked on her food, "A professor? But you can't be more then 25! That's not possible! What are you some kind of genius?"

"More like a protégé. My father was really ambitious, but I'm glad to be where I am. The academic life suits me better then the military that's for sure."

She noticed the slight flash of anger in his green eyes and decided to change the subject. "You still haven't told me what your research is on."

"Fairytales." He replied with an easy assuredness as if there was nothing strange with his reply. She stared at him, her amber eyes blank. "It's for my mother. She died when I was young but she used to tell me fairy tales and I decided to specialize in it for her."

Her eyes softened for a second and she added what he had just said to the memory bank that she had of him in her mind. This man was interesting to say the least. Silence fell between them again as she finished her food and he nursed his cup of coffee. She stood up when she was done and went to the deposit the dishes in the sink, "Would you like me to get you some more coffee?"

"No but thank you for the offer." He watched as she seemed to hesitate before leaving the room unsure of what to say. She paused with her back to him and shyly spoke, "Thank you for breakfast Athrun, it was good."

She was gone in a flash and he chuckled at her embarrassment. He could just see her with that pink blush sprinkled over her cheeks and he liked that image. Standing up he rolled his neck getting the kinks out of it before tucking his things under his arm and headed off to the spare room he had told her about earlier. Depositing his books on the hall table he was just about to turn the knob to the room when she hurried up to him. She peered curiously over his shoulder into the dusty and dim room her eyes slowly adjusting to the gloomy room.

~0~0~0~0~

"This will be your room." He smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry it's so dusty, I don't really use this room much."

She was grateful that he allowed her to enter first wanting to get her first impression of the room on her own. Carefully stepping in she stared around her and noticed how jumbled everything looked. Unpacked moving boxes were stacked haphazardly around the room while dust seemed to hang heavy in the air. She sneezed.

"Bless you." She turned and noticed that Athrun had walked in behind her.

"Thanks." He nodded his head and then strode purposefully to the curtains that seemed to be draped all over the walls. Gripping the cloth firmly in his hands he pulled them away to reveal a large window across directly from the door. The morning light revealed beautifully crafted bookshelves lining the right wall with what appeared to be an antique bureau and vanity across from them. A worn bed lay below the window with two mismatched nightstands on either side. It was wonderfully cozy even if the furniture was ages old and unkempt but she could see craftsmanship and quality that had gone into them.

"These, these are not cheap. How could you have possibly afforded these antiques? These are worth a fortune." By now she had drawn her hands along the silky smooth white bookshelves and the bureau. She at last noticed the white and blue wallpaper along the walls and curiously she at last realized what had been bothering her. "This was a girl's room isn't it?"

"You have a good eye." He was smiling at her, "This was my mother's place when she was a young woman. She left it to me in her will so I took advantage of her gift when the University hired me. The furniture in here is what she left me but I couldn't bear to sell it off."

"You're not from Orb?" she asked curiously.

"No, I was born and raised in Plant." He absentmindedly glanced down at his watch and with a quick exhale of breath he was out of the room. "Oh shit, sorry Rose I have to go class! I'll be back around 7 tonight!"

"Wait!" She didn't make it in time before he was already out the door and she found herself in an empty unknown condo. "And stop calling me Rose."

Sighing she just turned around and trudged up the stairs to her room and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. With her hands on her hips she surveyed the room with sharp amber eyes and went to work cleaning the room, guessing when she didn't know what she was supposed to do.

~0~0~0~0~

The car was filled with the sound of Debussy's Claire de Lune as he drove the long way home. The smell of the Chinese that he had picked up on the way filled his nostrils and exacerbated the hunger that seemed to create a dull pain in his stomach. His mind wandered back to the conversation he had had earlier with the other professor's in his department when they had gone to get coffee together.

"Do you think fairytales can happen in real life?" he asked his colleagues during a lull in the conversation.

"Could you say anything more fruity Zala?" Yzak stared aghast at him while Dearka just laughed.

"Why are you asking Athrun?" Miriallia, Dearka's girlfriend, asked. He had almost told them that a spoiled and stubborn Rose Princess had literally fallen into his life, but he decided against it. They would have either thought he was insane, or begged to meet her and he knew for a fact that he didn't want her to meet his friends who had a tendency to come across as lecherous.

"Ah nothing, forget about it. It was a stupid question." He was relieved when a set of college cheerleaders came in to talk to Dearka creating a big enough mess that he was let off the hook. He left while Milly was yelling and Dearka was pleading for his life. He had decided that fairytales weren't supposed to happen in real life, that's why they were fairytales.

As he parked the car in the garage he let out a deep breath that he hadn't realized that he had been holding. He could see a light on in the living room, and he had never realized how comforting it was. The feeling that you were going home to someone rather then an empty house was pleasant to say the least. She would probably be furious at him since he had come home an hour later then he had originally told her, and the Chinese was probably cold by now but as he climbed the few steps to the front door he found that he was looking forward to her angry explosion. As he juggled the take out in one hand and unlocked the door he was surprised to hear the sound of the piano wafting out of his condo. He opened the door as quietly as he could and quietly taking off his shoes he hurried into the living room. She was sitting at the piano her hands flowing over the keys a slight smile on her face. The look in her eyes was faraway, as if she were in some dream that he wished he could follow her into. Her golden hair was cut raggedly about her face and he didn't remember when she had cut it but he liked it, it suited her pronounced features much more then the long hair.. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when she turned her head to look at him startled the song ending on jarringly discordant keys. He winced shuddering at the sound while she glared at him.

"Let me guess, this was your mother's too?" she asked sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Where's dinner? You're late."

"No the piano was a gift from my friend actually, and dinner's right here." He smiled at her as she begrudgingly shut the piano case and stood up dusting her shirt. "When'd you cut your hair?"

"Before breakfast handsome does it suit me?" She twirled around before him smiling cheekily at him and following him into the kitchen sniffing the now cold food. "What'd you bring back?"

"Chinese. Is that a problem?" he asked taking out two plates from the cupboard and setting them down on the counter. She opened the boxes curiously before clapping her hands delightedly at the food before her. "Like what you see?"

"Oh I never get to eat Chinese!" she laughed as she took one of the plates and started divvying the food out between the two. "You got all my favorites too! How'd you know? Ah—dumplings how I've longed for you! I only eat Chinese when Asagi manages to smuggle some in for me!"

"Asagi?" he asked picking his plate up and slipping it into the microwave.

"Oh yeah Asagi handles the Chinese, Juri handles the burgers and fries, while Mayura gets me pizza. They're my maids, and probably my closest friends." She continued talking rapidly staring at the plate rotating in the microwave.

"What no dessert?" he teased taking out the plate and handing it to her and then putting in the next one. He was startled that she didn't start eating the minute he had handed her the plate.

"Kira takes care of that. He claims that it's the only way to get my forgiveness a vat of cookie dough ice cream, he would know." She rolled her eyes with a smile on her face that he hadn't seen before. It was gentle, loving and it softened her features.

"Do you miss him?" he asked both surprising himself and her. He covered the blush on his face by taking out the plate and handing it to her. He moved to the cupboard to pour drinks for them.

"Of course, he's my best friend, and the best brother a girl could have." She said with a smirk balancing the two plates as she headed out in front of him. "Don't worry I'm not into incest."

"Not interested." He mocked back.

"Sure." She winked cheekily at him, and he just laughed as they both sat down at the dining table. "What no book this time? You must like my fabulous company!"

"Ha! Whatever floats your boat darling." He quipped back thoroughly amused as she took a large bite of her chow fun. The look of pure ecstasy on her face was cute. "Like it?"

"Of course I like it! It has to have been a year since I last had Chinese. God I love greasy food." She sighed happily deftly wielding her chopsticks and eating voraciously pausing from time to time to daintily wipe her mouth. The juxtaposition of ladylike manners and her wild eating was startling at first but he quickly grew used to it.

"You're not allowed to eat whatever you want?" he asked curiously thinking back to their previous conversation and remembering how it had seemed odd that she had to smuggle in food. "You're at least 18 aren't you? Shouldn't you legally, at least, be able to do whatever you want?"

"I'm 19." She answered before putting down her chopsticks and frowning. She was thinking how best to continue, "I don't really have a say in what I can or can't do in my life, even when it comes to food. I have a nutritionist that decides what I eat every day and I'm required to adhere to a strict diet and fitness regime. My image is very important to my father, it is just part of our jobs."

"That's horrible." He gaped at her imagining himself in that position. "Is it that way for your entire family?"

"Kira's isn't as strict as mine, but that's because he's a boy. I'm a girl, girl's are judged on their looks, on their marriage potential. Kira will be able to rightfully take over for my father, where as I will always just be a bargaining tool."

"That's horrendously archaic, I wasn't aware that people still thought like that." He interjected, who would have thought? He was starting to feel the tiniest bit sorry the spoiled princess having to grow up in that kind of atmosphere. Why didn't she just rebel?

"You are knowledgeable on fairytales, an expert so to speak—are you not?" It wasn't a question but a statement. She stared at him her golden brown eyes peering into his as if she was testing his worth. It was a feeling he was used to and he stared fearlessly back at her. "More specifically Princess stories."

"How'd you know?"

"As I was shelving those hundreds of books you had still boxed up in the spare room I noticed that almost all those titles centered on Princesses, women in fairytales, their roles in society, etc." She took another bite of her food then sipped her juice. "People look up to Princesses, want to be Princesses when really those Princesses want to be normal. Do you really think Sleeping Beauty wanted to sleep for years? Snow White wanted to eat a poisoned apple? Who saves them? The Prince! Even in those stories their roles are subjugated by the 'Prince' so why should that be any different now? Even if I fought the confines that my father set for me, it's too late. I was raised that way and when I realized how wrong it all was I was already too old to start fighting a system that has been there forever. Tell me, do you want to find yourself a modern day Princess? Rescue her on a white horse and become her Prince? Use her as a gateway to splendor and riches?"

"It depends on what I'm rescuing them from."

"Cheeky." She stuck her tongue out at him before they lapsed into a thoughtful silence. At least until he broke it, "What about you Cagalli? You've never dreamt of a Prince to steal you away from your life of rules, regulations, and monotony?"

"I did once." Her eyes had gotten that faraway look that seemed to take her away from him back into somewhere that he couldn't reach, much less understand. A slight sadness seemed to mar the smile on her. The hard bitterness that had entered into her voice saddened him, it sounded out of place coming from her. "I stopped believing in them fairly quickly."

"What happened? I thought all Princesses had a Prince." He retorted gently in an effort to lighten the mood that had suddenly grew moody.

"Princes are overrated. What if Prince Charming was really a chauvinistic, pathetic imitation of a man, ruthless, and cunning to the core? What if he let Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, or Snow White know that they were just tools to be used in his vile play for power? Nothing but a pathetic pawn without the power to be able to achieve anything whose duty is to smile beautifully as a trophy for the highest bidder." She slammed down her chopsticks and stood up. "Princesses are nothing but figureheads, smiling statues useful for nothing but to be pleasing aesthetically. How do I look Athrun Zala? Tell me follower of fairytales, researcher of Princesses and rescuer of Damsels of Distresses; am I not beautiful?"

She was beautiful standing before him in a fit of righteous fury the resentment gone from her visage and the bitterness gone from her voice. Clothed in one of his worn dress shirts and a pair of his slacks that were too big for her by far, sloppily cut hair crowning her face with strands of spun sunshine she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "Yes. You are beautiful like marble sculpted into heartbreaking perfection; but I do not covet it. Your beauty is nothing to me, I have seen other beauties, classical or not. All I see is not the Rose Princess whose name you have been gifted but a golden songbird caged behind bars both of her father's making, and her own."

"I don't need your help to set me free." She snapped at him flickering like a flame before him for just a moment.

"I am not offering you help, but companionship." He stayed seated before her standing figure, unwilling to rise as if his humble background would taint her flare. "Cagalli I'm not going to help you break the bars of your cage, but I can offer company to the lost girl woman standing before me right now. Together we can maneuver our way out of your maze."

"I suppose, I can handle that." The tension was broken like the snap of a string on a guitar. She visibly relaxed though he could now always see the purifying spirit of the girl underneath her exterior and he wondered if her coming would change and mutate him like the fabled alchemist stone into the man that he had never quite managed to become. For a moment he wavered in his resolution, frightened of whatever changes she would bring to him but he rose at her voice's bidding. "Rise then, Athrun Zala."

He stood and came before where she held out her long slender arm, her fingers curled around the imaginary hilt of a sword, "I hereby pronounce you, Sir Athrun Zala proud knight of the Rose Princess."

Her eyes twinkled at him and he rose to his feet with an equally charming smile. It was strange that it didn't seem childish, playacting knights and princesses beside the dining room table. They both sat at the same time with laughs that cleared the foggy tension and dreams away. They clinked their glasses of juice

"To spoiled Princesses!" he laughed meeting her golden-eyed gaze head on.

"And absentminded knights!" she replied and in the stark white fluorescent lights of his dining room they drank to each other, he drank to companionship.

She drank to freedom.


Title is from Sara Bareilles' (LOVE HER) song, Fairytale. Anyways I hope you liked it, so R&R please :P

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN athazala