Disclaimer, I do not own The Land of Stories series. This wonderful series is by Chris Colfer
A/N
Hi everyone!
Hope you've all had a lovely week. Come and join me as we celebrate Alex/Emilia and Connor's birthday. I wish everyone who is having, or has had a birthday this month a very happy birthday and warm wishes!
Chapter Four: Birthdays
Surprise!"
As soon as Connor entered the house, bursts of noisy greetings of happy birthday met him. He knew his mom would make a fuss, but he wasn't expecting this. Connor had spent all morning at Mark's house. They'd played endless video games, and watched both The Conjuring movies. He had to give them credit, he hadn't suspected anything. His mom was first, giving him a hug that threatened to deprive him of his oxygen supply.
"Happy birthday Connor. I love you."
"Love you too mom," Connor said trying to disentangle himself from her crushing embrace.
Then his dad was hugging him and patting his shoulder saying,
"Happy birthday champ."
John was tall, his hair was the same colour as his son's, and he had kind blue eyes which were at that moment, slightly teary.
"Thanks dad," Connor said grinning.
The new neighbours, Evly and Mira, who'd moved in a few weeks ago were there too, giving Connor their warm wishes.
"Thirteen huh," Mira said shaking his hand.
"Pretty exciting."
Connor's heart jumped as soon as he saw her.
"Grandma!" Connor cried running over to hug her.
"I've missed you so much!"
"Connor, I swear you've grown a foot since the last time I saw you."
Connor loved his grandma as much as he loved his parents. She was a small petite woman, with greying hair and kind eyes like her son. She had a warm smile, and everywhere she went, she carried a large travelling bag.
The house looked spectacular. Gold and silver streamers hung on the living room walls, and balloons had been strung from the ceiling. The kitchen table groaned from the amount of food that was laid upon it. There were dishes of roast potatoes, roasted vegetables, fried chicken and macaroni and cheese, which were all wafting delicious smells throughout the entire house. In the centre stood a tall chocolate cake with blue and white frosting, decorated with mini marshmallows, chocolate chips, and an assortment of other candies. A vanilla scented candle with a number 13 on it stood beside the cake, waiting for the person who would blow it out and make a wish.
"Come inside everyone!" Charlotte called leading them all to the kitchen.
"Let's eat before the food goes cold."
"Wow! This looks awesome mom. You must've been cooking all day."
"Oh it was nothing," Charlotte said shrugging.
"Oh Charlotte," Evly said taking a seat with everyone else.
"We could smell it from across the street. By the way, the house looks splendid. Thanks for inviting us."
"Are you liking town so far? How are you settling in?" John asked.
"Oh it's very different from where we're from. So many different machines and devices. A few days ago, Mira and I tried to make stake. It was quite a fiasco. We had to call that number, um 911 was it? Yes, and those firemen people had to put out the smoke."
At this, Charlotte laughed, but Connor thought she sounded nervous.
"Charlotte and John are a big help," Mira added.
Also, Connor found it odd that the couple didn't know how to use a stove and that they were unsure of what the emergency number was.
But he brushed it off. Maybe they were from a third world country?
Dinner was delicious. Connor had several helpings of every dish and soon it was time for the cake. His dad lit the candle, and the sweet scent of vanilla filled the room.
As the others sang, Connor blew, the candle flame growing and diminishing several times before being completely extinguished. Every year, Connor made the same wishes. He wished that someday, somehow, his sister Alex would re-join them. He wished for inner peace to return to his mom, and for the deep sadness that was engraved in his father's eyes to disappear. But this year, he wished for something else. As he blew, he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, his thoughts focused. This year, Connor wished for a carefree life, where he didn't have to worry about worrying his mom if he was one minute late home, where he wasn't forced into doing things he wasn't interested in like basketball and fencing just to put his mom's mind and heart at ease. At last, the singing finished, the candle was blown out, and the cake cut. Connor savoured the soft texture and the sweet taste that filled his mouth. If only cake could solve all the world's problems.
They all made their way to the living room where a stack of presents were waiting to be opened. Like always, the presents were divided into two piles, presents that would be opened that night, and presents that would be kept with no certainty if they would be opened at all. Besides the usual pepper spray, emergency whistle, compass, map, and first aid kit from his mom, Connor got the Exorcism of Emily Rose on D.V.D. and a brand new black hoody that made Connor feel cool.
From his dad, he got a pack of colouring pencils, and a new horror novel. His grandma had given him items from every country she had travelled to. There was a glass model of the Eiffel Tower, fake sushi from Japan, a fake pineapple where you could keep stuff in from Hawaii, and a book on how to make Gelato from Italy. Evly and Mira had given Connor a box of chocolates, and to his mom's horror and delight, a swiss army knife.
"Thanks everyone," Connor said.
"These are all so great."
"Just one more extra present," Grandma said reaching into her bag.
She pulled out a large book with an emerald green cover and gold writing which Connor recognized at once.
"That's your Land of Stories book."
"Not any more," his Grandma said smiling.
"It's yours now."
She leant over and gently placed the book on his lap.
Connor looked down at it, gaping in awe. When his parents took him to see his grandma in her cottage, she would read to him from The Land of Stories book every night before he went to bed. He opened it carefully, tracing an illustration of Cinderella in her pumpkin carriage.
Grinning, he looked up.
"Grandma," he breathed,
"thank you so much. I'll treasure this forever."
Eventually, the party ended. Evly and Mira walked back home, and his Grandma left that same night in her big blue car after giving them all huge hugs.
Connor sat in his room, feeling more content than he could ever remember. His belly was full of the delicious dinner his mom made, and he had received a cherished object from his grandma. Taking the book off his desk, he opened it up. The colourful characters, animals, and places looked so welcoming. To Connor, it looked as if the branches of the trees were waving cheerfully at him, its wide leaves open palms gesturing for him to join them. He wished he could grab the wing of one of the birds and fly off into a completely new and magical world.
Just as he was about to close the book, he felt it vibrate in his hands. He tilted his head towards the book. It was strange. Connor thought he could hear the book humming. But books don't hum, do they? He was probably just imagining it.
"You've eaten too much cake," he thought to himself.
He closed the book and placed it on his desk brushing off the strange vibrations and humming he'd felt and heard.
He got into bed and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before his breathing became steady and he was fast asleep. But as Connor slept, The Land of Stories continued to hum and a bright glow was emitting from its pages.
—
Emilia watched closely as the unicorns lay peacefully on the ground basking in the morning sun. Their pure white bodies gleamed in the light and they had an air of innocence about them that Emilia found infuriating. They looked as if they'd be happy no matter what happened around them. They looked so trusting that Emilia felt a surge of raw rage rush through her as she thought of the task ahead. All around her, everything sparkled, too bright, too beautiful to be real. It looked so fake, a facade of spectacular sights to fool those foolish enough into believing that the Fairy Kingdom and its leaders were perfect and living in a paradise. She'd show them the world wasn't butterflies and rainbows. She'd shove the truth in their faces that they weren't perfect. Cautiously, Emilia stepped out from behind the willow tree she was hiding behind. She watched the unicorns sharply, as she slowly approached. They hadn't moved one bit. Well, they deserved what was coming to them. It was their fault for not being aware of their surroundings. When she was only a few feet away, Emilia struck. She slashed her hand aggressively through the air in the unicorns' direction and at that moment, sharp arrows and daggers rained down piercing the unicorns' bodies. Again and again, Emilia slashed the air, adrenalin pumping through her blood. With every slash, the daggers and arrows sliced easily through the unicorns. Emilia's eyes gleamed with excitement as she worked, as if she was a child slicing birthday cake instead of living beings. They wailed and howled in anguish as their skin tore, their wounds getting wider with every second, blood gushing out like a fountain of wine. Before long, the ground was soaked in scarlet and a shallow pool of blood had formed. The metallic smell filled her nostrils, and when she inhaled, her stomach lurched. The smell was sickly and suffocating. Every breath she took was painful and a strong urge to vomit filled her body. Quickly, Emilia retrieved the bottles she had brought, and with trembling hands, began scooping up the blood. Some of it got on her fingers leaving them sticky and wet. Desperately, she wiped them on her dress in a feeble attempt to wash the traces of cruel destruction from her hands. Tears poured down her face as she took in the gruesome sight before her. How could she be so cruel? She didn't have to do that much damage. The unicorns lay on the ground twitching every few seconds. Sobbing uncontrollably, Emilia knelt on the ground and placed her palms on the warm earth. With all the strength and power she could muster, she envisioned the wounds of every unicorn in front of her closing and healing, leaving no scars behind. In her mind, she conjured an image of all the unicorns, their bodies unblemished in anyway, smooth and pure as she'd found them minutes before. She'd never done a healing spell before, but she'd read about them. She pressed her palms deeper into the earth, her teeth clenched with effort. But when she looked up, the unicorns lay limp and still.
"Oy!"
Emilia turned to see a wall of flame shooting towards her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Just like that, Emilia snapped out of her reverie. She raised a hand lazily, and the flames vanished at once. Before the yellow fairy could react, Emilia snapped her fingers and long snaking vines bound him in place. His eyes were also covered so he was unable to see her appearance. He writhed and struggled attempting to free his hands, but it was no use.
"I'm telling the Fairy Godmother!" he exclaimed angrily.
"I'm a member of the Fairy Council!"
"Try me," she sneered,
and with one last loathing look at her adversary, Emilia wasted no time, and disappeared leaving a cloudy mist in her wake.
Back in the cottage, Emilia smiled to herself as she worked. She had rid her mind of the events of the morning, blaming her uncharacteristic behaviour on growth and hormones. A mountain of blue ice nettles lay before her and all morning, she had been chopping them for her mother's potions. Her hands were covered in deep scratches, some of them dripping blood. Every time the sharp thorns pricked her, the pain fuelled her onward, her life's mantra beating steadily in her head, blocking out the witches' prophecy. By the time afternoon came, Emilia had filled around two dozen large jars of finely chopped ice nettles. Sweat poured down her back and her hair had slipped from its braid falling in tangles around her shoulders and face. The coarse fabric of her dressed stuck to her body rubbing her skin raw. Looking out the window, she spotted two children, a girl around eight, and a boy of around ten. She watched as they chased each other, climbing into the branches of the trees without a care in the world. If she listened closely, she could hear their joyous, carefree laughter echoing throughout the forest and being swept away by the breeze.
She turned her back on them abruptly, beginning her next task for the day. She gritted her teeth hard trying to get rid of the lump that had formed in her throat. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand in an attempt to wipe away the trickle of tears that had escaped against her will.
"Stop it!" she said to herself angrily.
"Those children will soon see what the real world is like. One day, they will discover the pain and immense anger you feel and then we'll see whose laughing."
For the rest of the afternoon, Emilia devoted herself into crushing goblin bones with vigour. With every thump, she regained her composure, her wall of solid ice coming up, its defences fortified to the double. The work calmed her and made her feel like she was in control again.
That evening, Emilia lay on her straw mattress her bones aching. The sun had completely set now, and the forest was dark and still. She shivered as a cold draft blew through the cracks under the cottage's door. The day had been a satisfying one. Emilia had collected unicorn blood for her mother, the ice nettles had been chopped to the finest perfection exactly how Ezmia liked, and the goblin bones had been grinded to a smooth powder. She had performed all the tasks perfectly just as she always did, and that's what Ezmia expected from her. Emilia had gotten that message from an early age. When she was only two, she had put a half cup of fairy tears into the potion instead of a quarter. That had resulted in no dinner and her mother whipping her causing a permanent welt on her back. When Emilia was five, Ezmia was teaching her to conjure daggers, arrows, needles and other lethal objects, but she could only make bouquets of flowers appear.
When she saw her mother's unhappy expression she'd asked,
"What's wrong mom? I think they're pretty."
At this, Emilia received no food for two whole days and for the rest of the weeks they worked on the spell, Ezmia had burned her shins every time she made flowers appear.
"Not too tired for a cream bun I hope," Rumpelstiltskin said, gently touching her arm.
"I suppose," she said keeping her face expressionless.
Rumpelstiltskin sat down beside her, handing her a paper bag with a small plump bun inside.
"It's still warm," she said allowing a half smile.
"You deserve it," Rumpelstiltskin said.
"And more," he thought.
Slowly, Emilia opened the bag and took the bun out carefully.
"Gotta make a wish first."
Rumpelstiltskin pulled a small candle from his pocket and set it down in front of her.
"Rumpy," Emilia sighed,
"you know I don't believe in foolish wishes."
"You say that every year, but you still blow out the candle."
Sighing, she lit the candle with her finger, bathing the cottage in a warm glow.
Despite what she said every year, Emilia closed her eyes and blew, thoughts creeping into her mind. She let them come, her defences crumbling for the second time that day.
Why can't mother just love me? Why do I have to be perfect all the time? I wish I could laugh and be free.
Emilia opened her eyes quickly and looked up.
"I know you love doing that," Rumpelstiltskin said.
"It was okay," Emilia replied.
As the candle dimmed completely, Emilia and Rumpelstiltskin sat, savouring the peace and quiet. It was rare for them just to sit and be, without having to be on their guard. These moments with Rumpy, were the only times Emilia felt hope that the world wasn't all dreary and grey. It was these moments alone that Emilia let herself feel loved and maybe, just a little, let herself love in return.
Emilia bit into her bun, the sweet taste of custard and cream filling her mouth. She let the taste linger, savouring it for as long as it would last. Every bite was bliss, and although her birthday celebrations were simple, she wouldn't have shared them with anyone else but Rumpelstiltskin. As she finished, she saw him grinning at her, his eyes bright with genuine gladness.
"Happy birthday Emilia," Rumpelstiltskin said giving her a hug.
She paused for a moment her arms stiff by her sides. But finally, with only a slight hesitation, she returned his embrace.
"Thank you Rumpy, for being my friend."
Their eyes locked, and they stood there, in each other's comforting embrace. The sound of an owl hooted in the distance, Emilia jump, pulling away, and the spell broke.
They sat for a little while longer gazing out at the moon. Soon, Emilia's eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep on Rumpelstiltskin's shoulder. He looked down at her, so young, so strong. Gently, he stroked her long hair and tears began to run down his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry Emilia. I pray everyday for the courage to tell you the truth one day."