A/N: And just so we're clear on what the story is actually going to be about, here we are, some years later...

(For disclaimer, etc. - see Prologue)

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Hartford, there lived a beautiful princecs named Lorelai Leigh. To her grandparents, the king and queen, who had raised her to be a kind and intelligent young lady, she was affectionately known as Rory.

Rory did not know her mother and namesake. She had one photograph of Princess Lorelai Victoria, which she had worn in a locket around her neck for as long as she could remember, but Rory knew very little about the woman who had brought her into the world. Asking her grandparents got her the same stock answers every time, that her mother had gone away because she had things she needed to deal with, that she just wasn't in a position to raise a child. Rory often thought she should resent her mother for abandoning her. Sometimes in fits of rage, she did feel something akin to anger and hate rise within her, but it never lasted long. Rory firmly believed that if her mother could be with her then she would, and if she couldn't, there had to be a very good reason. In either case, Rory planned to find out the truth someday soon.

It was barely a week now until the young princess turned sixteen and on the auspicious occasion of her birthday, Rory officially became an adult within the kingdom of Hartford, and would be formally presented to her public at a grand ball. It was as terrifying as it was exciting. Just being amongst so many people was going to be quite the experience, Rory was sure. She went to limited parties and social gatherings up to now and had been educated within Gilmore Castle. She rarely went beyond the grounds and never unaccompanied. It didn't bother Rory so much when she was younger, but as she grew up, she longed for adventure, for freedom from her gilded cage.

"Rory!"

Emily's voice echoed down the hall way in something very close to being undignified. The queen must be really mad, Rory knew, to be quite so loud. Glancing up from her book, Rory started at the sight of the clock. She was due for a dress fitting fifteen minutes ago and was now officially late. Pushing the marker into her book, she leapt up from the attic floor and dusted off her dress.

"Coming, Grandma!" she called as she hurried down the ladder.

No sooner had her feet touched the carpet than Rory realised the queen had caught up to her, and she was none too amused by where she had found her. Again.

"Rory, I really don't understand you sometimes," her grandmother told her snippily. "Your grandfather has gifted you with no less than two libraries full of books, plus your own room has enough reading material to last any ordinary person a year at least. So why is it that when I cannot find you, it is because you are in that dusty, smelly attic searching out yet more books?"

"I found a new collection up there that I never saw before," explained Rory, tucking her hair back behind her ear. "Well, not actually new, obviously. I'm pretty sure they're very old, but they're so interesting, like nothing I ever read before."

As Emily's features twisted towards suspicion, Rory changed tack. She would do better not to fully explain about the books she found up in the attic, knowing for sure that her grandmother would think them unsuitable and take them away from her. She was practically sixteen and quite old enough to read whatever she wanted to, but Rory had trouble getting her grandparents to understand that. Sometimes it was just easier not to tell them everything.

"Is it time for my dress fitting? I'm so excited about the ball," she enthused then, glad to see Emily smile widely.

"A lady really shouldn't be excited about such a thing as a ball," she said anyway. "Though of all events, I'm sure a sixteenth birthday should be a happy occasion."

Her happy expression slipped just a little at her own words, but she recovered so quickly that Rory almost thought she imagined it.

"And yes, Miss Selene is here for your final fitting. Lord knows I would've had her come a little sooner than two days before the day of the ball, but then what do I know?" she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Come along then, let us get this dress properly fitted."

Rory grinned and followed Emily down the stairs, hiding the book that had been behind her back this whole time, in a gap between the bannister rails. She would pick it up later when no-one was around and already couldn't wait to read more adventures of the characters who believed in standing up for what they believed in, seeing the world, and experiencing all of human emotion, most especially love and all it entailed.

On the way down, Emily spoke of the ball, reminding Rory to be her best lady-like self, especially when meeting dukes and princes, all the eligible sons of the surroundings kingdoms and counties. Rory wasn't exactly dreading meeting these young men who might want to court her, though she was a little nervous. She really didn't meet that many people, especially not of the male variety, unless they were of a much older generation, friends of her grandfather, for example.

Rory's hand went subconsciously to the locket at her throat as they reached the bottom of the stairs and Emily and Selene greeted each other warmly.

"Wish me luck, Mom," she urged the picture hanging around her neck.

"Good luck, baby," said Lorelai with a sad smile.

In the magic mirror, the image of Rory flickered slightly and then began to fade. Most of the time it was easier not to look, but sometimes Lorelai just couldn't help herself. She had not seen her baby girl in the flesh since the day of her birth, only pictures through the glass of the mystical mirror in her own out-of-the-way castle. It was sweet torture to see her, knowing Rory had no idea she was being watched, knowing she would never look back at Lorelai, never mind meet her, but it was how it had to be.

King Richard and Queen Emily had raised Rory to be a good girl, kind and loving, as beautiful inside as she was on the outside. Lorelai was sure she could not have done a better job, even without her curse. Now Rory was turning sixteen. In two days' time, she would have her ball, and on the stroke of midnight would truly be classed as a woman in the kingdom of Hartford. Then the true test would come.

It had been in Lorelai's sixteenth year that her curse had been placed upon her. The concern now was that Rory would suffer the same fate. The witch who held the Gilmore family in her evil sights had not been seen in the kingdom since the day she sealed Lorelai's fate, and yet the gnawing worry of her return existed inside of Lorelai, and was evident upon Emily's face when she spied on her and Rory.

Only the youngest princess had no idea what might befall her. All Lorelai could do was pray that it did not come to pass. That Old Woman Lott would stay away and let bygones be bygones at last. It seemed unlikely. Her pain over losing her betrothed had darkened her heart so much, it was thought that her thirst for vengeance might never be sated. It was why Lorelai had planned never to fall pregnant, but the unruly son of a nearby duke had been just too charming. She was carrying Christopher's child before she turned sixteen, and though he had vowed to marry her then, everything changed when the witch returned to Hartford and cursed Princess Lorelai with icy powers. From that day on, the slightest fluctuation in her mood send forth spirals of snow and ice from Lorelai's hands. She dare not touch a single living being or allow them too close for fear of harming them. She certainly did not trust herself to raise a child in her cursed state.

Turning away from the mirror altogether, Lorelai could not bear to torture herself with another look at Rory. A knock on the door got her attention and her eyes flitted to the clock on the mantle. Barely a minute after noon, her lunch was right on time.

"Thank you," she called to the servant beyond the door.

Lorelai waited until she heard footsteps going away down the stairs before she ever moved closer to the door. She counted beyond the footfalls she could hear, to be certain the servant had made it down every one of the fifty steps that separated her from the nearest person. Then she rose and went to the door, retrieving the food quickly and bolting the door behind her. A small smile curved her lips as she examined the tray. There was little to please her in her solitary life, but food had become something she enjoyed, especially in the last few years. The old chef who lived in the castle had died several years ago, and a new man was employed from the small town of Stars Hollow. He was a wonder, creating simple but succulent dishes, the like of which Lorelai had never experienced at home in the palace when she were younger. No pheasant or suckling pig or caviar were to be found here, but instead, meat patties in the most delicious bread, piles of fluffy pancakes with the most exquisite honey were brought for her, coffee the like of which she had never tasted before, and she delighted in the flavours.

It had become usual for Lorelai to leave notes for the servant, thanking him for the delicious food, letting him know which dishes were her favourites, and that his coffee was a magical elixir to her, cheering her up on even the worst of days. He never wrote back, but answered through the food, sending more of things she loved, variants on dishes she had made particular comments on, that kind of thing, and always all the coffee she could want. Though Lorelai had never met this servant who cooked her delicious meals, she thought of him as a friend, and delighted in each and every plate of food and cup of coffee he brought. His visits to her door were a bright warm spot in her desolate cold life.

Lorelai's thoughts turned to melancholy then, eyes drifting to the mirror as she thought of Rory preparing for her ball. Sixteen. The years seemed to have passed too quickly and too slowly in equal measure. Watching her daughter grow up was as much pleasure as it was pain, and Lorelai now must live in fear for up to twelve months, worrying what curse may yet be placed upon her daughter. All she could do was wait and watch, with no chance of helping Rory or even being a shoulder to cry on if the worst should happen.

The food that had been piping hot began to rapidly cool on the plate before her. Lorelai gripped the fork tighter and frost grew down the handle from her fingertips. The frustration of losing control only made matters worse. In a fit of rage, she picked up the whole tray and threw it at the door, a shower of ice crystals following it down to the ground.

Beyond the door, Luke jumped back at the sound of shattering china and splintering wood. The only thing worse than the almighty crash was the sobbing that came after. It broke his heart to hear the poor woman cry. Though Luke never met her and was not even certain of her name, the rumour was she had been a princess, banished from her kingdom for reasons nobody knew or at least never spoke of. She might be beautiful, she might be kind and sweet. The opposite could also be true, and yet Luke would not believe it.

When she started leaving him notes that made him smile, Luke realised that at the very least the woman behind the barred door had a sense of humour, that she liked his food, and adored his coffee. He never could find the right words to reply to her, but he made sure to take her comments into consideration with the food he made and delivered to her. Often he would sit re-reading all those notes he carefully kept, and Luke often wondered why this woman was so alone, why she was kept behind closed doors this way. More than once he considered answering when she called her thanks for a meal left for her. He considered trying to open the door and go in, get a look at the mysterious creature never seen and barely heard. He had never dared yet, but today he had decided to see what he could see or hear beyond the forbidden door. He walked half way down the stairs, sure after so many trips here that his lady waited the exact amount of time she knew the whole staircase took to descend. At the half way point, Luke turned and headed back up again, as softly as he could, and then hid around the corner to wait. He caught but the briefest glimpse of beautiful dark hair and delicate hands before she was gone again.

The moment the door closed, Luke approached and listened a moment. He heard the cutlery taken up from the tray, the general sounds of eating and then nothing. Just when Luke was about to turn to go, the crashing and crying began. It tore at the heart Luke often claimed he did not own. A lonely bachelor such as he was considered by many to be grumpy and unpleasant much of the time in the town where he lived, but Luke had a heart, and by now he was sure that though he had never seen or really met the woman beyond the door, that heart belonged to her. Right now he would have given anything to bring comfort to the desolate maiden beyond the door, but he could do nothing. Nothing at all.

To Be Continued...