Co authored by AlwaysCastle and kimmiesjoy...
"Once upon a time…"
The most loaded sentence in the history of fiction. What springs from once upon a time are the love and happily ever after we all seek, and yet, life never promises a pot of gold. Life only promises the chance to achieve that lofty goal, the ability to make your stand at the moment of your own choosing, and when that moment comes, life makes no guarantee on the outcome. For the lucky few, they choose wisely and victoriously, and for others, they will find a road filled with defeat and darkness.
For that which makes it all the more worth while and meaningful, we cannot find. All stories must deviate from our true happiness, and show us first the pain and the darkness.
That is what we are taught, listening as children to the fairy tales woven by our protectors. Fairy tales provide a safe haven for us as children, they are stories that are guaranteed to end happily, and as we are swept away, we are comforted by the knowledge that no matter the obstacle or threat to our innocence, we are comforted by the safety of a tale born of what is right with the world. We can easily and freely believe. And that is comfort personified in a red cloak.
But when our protectors vanish before we are truly ready to have them leave... how do we learn to escape the darkness of the woods? How do we learn to listen to songbirds and walk amongst the flowers, when our storybook is closed in the middle of the forest surrounded by wolves, our protector slain and no one there to turn the page?
Maybe magic exists and wishes really do come true. But as we get older, these fairy tales no longer seem as real to us as they once did as children. As we mature, the stories we once held so dear, turn into nothing but tall tales and lies. It's as though the woodsman tore out our heart, and the things in the world that sparkle and shine with fairy dust aren't visible, we've been blinded and are unable to feel, or even see the magic of the world. It's not as easy to escape into Never-land once we have allowed the magic to fade away.
It is easier, rushing head long into the woods, into the woods and home before dark. Sometimes you don't make it home before darkness sets in. We find ourselves distracted and waylaid, tangled in inconsequential weeds that litter the edge of the path. And we often lose our way.
Perhaps you knew the way all along and this is the path you have chosen to take. You never expect the path to end up walling you in, as you trip and trail along it, skirting the flowers at the edge. You may even pick at the daisies as you go, but never deviating from your planned journey. You don't expect to look up and find your path has been cast in shadow; set in stone and now even if you wanted to, you can't stray from it.
The shadows of the castle walls are cast too long and too high for you to escape from their long and terrifying reach, but maybe that is how it's supposed to be.
It seems as though every story must begin in struggle, and darkness. A dragon to slay, a battle to be fought and a princess in need of rescue. You forge through it, overcome and end in tranquillity and peace, in light and joy.
But when the princess battles alone, and the dragons lurk in shadows, when the maiden comes home not to a loving woodsman but a wolf instead, when the knight in shining armour just isn't enough for the princess, isn't worthy of her attention, and certainly not her affections or love; the fairytale turns real.
There is no light, or magic. And the princess is not even that. She's not sleeping beauty, or snow white. She's just a woman, plagued by her own tragedy.
She does not believe anymore.
Tinkerbell is lying dead at her feet, and the woman is lost. She was left alone far too early in her life, a crucial element that would help her grow, and it's because of this, she does not know how to let the magic back in. Let alone the prince or the knight whose only wish is to protect and maybe give her his heart.
When this is the fairy tale you live, not one woven in magic and light, but one forged in secrets, loss and darkness, what hope do you hold of finding your happily ever after?
A/N: Once upon a time there were two writers, one was dark and twisty but luckily the other was her fairy godmother. The two looked at each other, and then forged ahead and into the woods.
We will need your reviews to guide us safely home.