A/N: This was written during classes and I never actually thought that I'd finish it. I owe this all to a very good friend of mine who is also a wonderful author. This story was her going away present since she's moving away and I may never see her again (Though I hope I do). She's the one who made me write more, even a sequel since she wanted to see more of the characters. I hope you like it, please R&R!

~The Wolfwitch

Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror, on the wall

Who's the fairest of them all?

Who's the belle of every ball?

And, pray tell, how will she fall?

For every dog has her day

Or, at least, that's what they say

Beauty can only decay

Only what's inside will stay.

Mirror, mirror, crystal clear

Show to me her every fear

Show me now what she holds dear

And her every secret tear

Help me show her to be free

Not caring what others see

Not just to seem, but to be

To make her existence happy.


Litany closed the huge leather-bound book, letting her hand rest on the cover for a bit. No title marred the smooth black surface, but then again, it didn't need one. The first page inside bore the title, a simple inscription, "The Book of Reflections", followed by a brief note in the same precise handwriting: "She who holds the mirror sees the soul". Litany liked the title; the first Mirror Witch's little joke. All of her descendants had the same wry sense of humour, letting them make fun of lives too often lost in the service of their power.

For 13 generations, the house of Thaline had survived passing secrets down from mother to daughter, guarding the realm and watching over women. Litany was the last and so far the only surviving member of the proud family. The role she now occupied was a terrible burden, especially since she had come to it so young. Her fingers stroked the cool surface of the hand mirror she held, preparing for her spell.

"Mirror, mirror, smooth and bright,

Show me my step-sister Snow White."

The mirror's surface rippled, finally giving the young woman her first good look at the queen who had murdered her mother. The Witch's honey brown eyes narrowed dangerously as she eyed the woman she wanted to kill.

The House of Thaline had barely escaped the thrice-damned queen! Proud lady Anaya, Snow White's stepmother, had only survived because of the love of one man. Her husband's faithful companion, Lord Eoin of Sunfield, had fallen deeply in love with her and had rescued her when everyone thought her dead. He had taken care of her and had the best physicians money could buy come to her side when she was dying and then crippled. He had helped her through a difficult pregnancy and juggled his time between his court duties and helping to raise their young daughter. Litany had grown up watching her mother fading like a flower wilting under winter's harsh wind, only perking up when Lord Eoin was there and, as the girl grew older, visits became less frequent. When the king finally died, the sadness at his passing killed the crippled queen who really had loved him. On her deathbed, she gave her mirrors and the family task that had caused her death to a daughter barely 10.

Now, nearly 8 years later, Lord Eoin was introducing his daughter to high society. Litany would be presented to her stepsister's court. Watching the image of the queen, the young woman smiled, fiddling with a lock of her golden hair speculatively. The two couldn't be more different, even without the 30 some years of age difference. While the queen had skin white as snow, hair black as soot, etc, etc, Litany looked just like her mother (and all of Thaline's women, come to think of it) with golden hair eyes and even tan-gold skin. Her lineage would be immediately obvious, throwing the court into a lovely state of disarray.

"The Witch is dead, long live the Witch," She laughed. Getting up, she placed the book in her traveling chest, putting her mirror over it.

"Mirror, mirror, smooth and bright,

Hide this precious book from sight," she ordered, closing the chest and locking it. The key she put on a chain around her neck, hiding it under her clothes. Donning her crimson cloak, she strode out of her room, down to the waiting carriage.

It took a full week to get from Thaline Manor to the royal palace. Every few hours, the carriage had to stop due to some magical barrier or spell meant to protect young Lady Thaline's privacy and to keep the Mirror Witches' domain a secret. The spells recognized their Mistress when she called to them, however, and let her pass. It was still annoying, but it provided Litany amusement during the otherwise dull voyage.

When they finally arrived, Lord Eoin himself was there to greet his daughter. They hadn't seen each other in a long while, so both were overjoyed.

"Lita! You resemble your mother more every day," he exclaimed, embracing her. She smiled, hugging him back.

"You always say that, Father," she laughed, "but I'm sure that mama never looked this tired after a simple carriage ride. You forget, I can see her in my mirrors even though she could never see herself." He nodded, frowning a bit.

"I'm sorry, dear, you really don't seem tired, so I didn't realize what a stress the trip must have been. Be careful, Litany," he then cautioned, lowering his voice so that not even the retainers could hear. "Your mirrors and powers won't be appreciated here. Such comments could be dangerous." Litany smirked.

"Don't worry, Father dearest, I'll be good. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to be shown to my rooms now." He smiled at her, some worry disappearing.

"Of course."

They crossed the courtyard, drawing stares from all around. Litany lifted her head proudly, enjoying the attention. Her father seemed less than pleased, though, making her hurry through, ushering the other people away. The only gaze that made the young Lady the least bit uncomfortable was the stare of one young noble man. She had the impression that she had seen him before. She wracked her memory to no avail and when she turned back to look at him again, her father hurried her on.

"Father?" she asked. "Do I know that young man? The one in white and gold." Then it hit her; White and gold were princes' colours. He had to be Snow White's son. She might have seen him in her mirrors, or just seen the resemblance he bore to his parents.

"Prince Merlan?" her father asked in surprise. "You might have seen him a few years back when the old King died. You were with me then." Litany nodded vaguely, not really remembering, which was odd. Her visits to her father were few and far between, so normally she remembered.

They entered the castle, walking down long stone corridors like the ones her mother had always described. Litany found them cold and forbidding, even with the tapestries that her father explained in detail. They finally arrived in front of the huge door that led to Litany's new chambers. She thanked her father quietly, entering and closing the door behind her. The rooms were as cold and ugly as the halls outside, but spacious enough. There were only a few arrow slits and candles assuring light in the room, but Litany was glad for this. She hated big windows and she was close enough to the ground that anyone could see in. Also, her work required darkness, most of the time, which would be easier in these conditions. She sighed, locking the door and undressing. She then slithered into bed, exhausted.

She was looking out the huge window at the top of the tower at her father's castle. There was a boy down there who had been with Snow White when they had arrived. She leaned out to see him better, curious. Frowning, she climbed onto the window ledge to get a better view, leaning out the open window. Bad idea; the next thing she knew she was falling down, out of the tower with a scream. The boy looked up, green eyes widening. She shut her own eyes, not wanting to see the end. A pair of arms wrapped around her gently, the sound of beating wings surrounding her. "I've got you," a voice whispered in her ear and she opened her eyes, staring at the boy who was trying to keep them both in the air. A pair of snowy wings sprouted from his back and he was evidently struggling with both their weights.

She woke with a start, the angel's green eyes haunting her. Getting up, she stalked across the room and pulled on her clothes, still pensive. Looking around she frowned. Her trunks should've arrived by now… Ah yes, she had locked the door. Unlocking it, she peered outside, scowling. Her luggage had just been left there in the hallway. Brilliant. Cursing in a way that would make most ladies blush, she undertook the rough task of tugging the heavy chest into her room.

After accomplishing that, Litany unlocked and opened it and started rummaging through its contents. She didn't have a maid, due to her reclusive life, meaning that she now had to find a way to get into the impossible ball gown she was expected to wear on her own. "Why does women's clothing have to be so complicated?" she moaned, glaring at the dress. It was simple enough, compared to what most of the women would be wearing, but she still didn't see the point. She twirled the wine red velvet dress around with a snort. "I'm going to look like an overdressed doll," she laughed, setting it back down on the bed.