Sleeping Beauty - Fall
by: Kiora
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[Author's Notes: After another eternity, here's chapter seven! Yeah! Maybe I *will* finish this before the millennium ends after all. Okay.. about this part, um.. you'll need to know who has green eyes to pick up on everything I guess, but since I've obsessed over that enough in the first chapter, I won't remind you. Thank-yous to everyone who reviewed and everyone who didn't is a cabbage. So there. Enjoy!]
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"No, not that," Trunks groaned, his pleas turning into whines, "anything but that!" It was morning again, a morning that came much quicker than it should have, in his opinion. Knowing his mother still had a soft spot for puppy eyes, he tried his best to look innocent, "Please! Have mercy!"
Bulma replied with a simple "no," and continued her lecture, "There is going to be a ball tomorrow night, and I am going to see results. Or else." She glared at him threateningly and added, "I obviously can't trust you with this anymore."
Trunks sighed, knowing from the look in his mother's eyes that there was no use in arguing; he would never win. "Here we go again."
-- f a l l
The music flooded his mind, and it hurt to think, but the thoughts wouldn't stay away. It felt to him like the same song had been playing all evening, the same boring, monotonous melody that was starting to grate on his nerves. His restless eyes wandered the vast hall, but in those empty eyes, every girl looked the same, no different than the last. And not a single girl, regardless of her beauty or disposition, could catch his attention for long. And so he was bored.
"Would you care to dance?" A quiet voice roused him from his trance and he found himself gazing into a pair of familiar green eyes. And though those eyes looked the same as they always had - just as alluring, just as bright, just as appealing, there was something more to them. Something evil, something enchanting, something different . . . but it was something he couldn't resist.
"Fine." His answer was just as soft, almost forced, but just from looking into her eyes, a wave of comfort washed over him. It was something he had never felt before, and it wasn't love, not the kind you'd give another person. Not the true love that girls so often dream about, the finding of a soul mate. No, it wasn't that, it didn't feel like that; it was something different, something stronger. Something that made him feel as if he wasn't himself anymore, just a spectator.
And as this feeling washed over him, it took control, and it flooded his mind with an artificial comfort. He sank back into the depths of his soul as his body went on moving, his mind went on thinking. His limbs were no longer his to move, his thoughts no longer his to think, and he realized it a moment too late: this feeling was magic.
-- f a l l
It was almost too easy for her, as if everything was meant to go her way. Of course, it was hell trying to get the Queen to believe her story, but the confidence in her persuasive skills was well placed. She had pulled through. Meryn fidgeted nervously in front of the mirror, fixing her flowing auburn hair and gazing at herself through dark eyelashes. Everything was in place, but there was still time for things to go wrong, and so she worried as she smoothed the wrinkles in her elegant gown. She knew she was beautiful, confidence wasn't the problem, and she knew that as she was, no man could resist her. That was never a problem either. But Trunks, he wasn't like most men. He didn't make the same mistake twice. He fell once . . . but would he fall again?
'Quit worrying.' She told herself, pasting the bright grin back onto her face, 'You've got nothing to fear.' And with those thoughts in mind, she hid her mirror away and extended her gloved hand to the driver. As she strutted proudly toward the palace, a gruff voice caught her attention.
"I can help you." An old woman stepped out of the shadows, violet eyes glowing. Wrinkles decorated her tanned face, and it was easy to see that she was older than most. Her robes were made of velvet and lined with gold, and she smelled of herbs and musty, aged wine. Silver hair fell down her back in thick layers, and an aura of intensity filled the air where she stood. It wasn't hard to see that she was something you don't see everyday.
Meryn, surprised, took a step back, and directed her unwavering gaze toward the little old lady who so suddenly came into view. No words were said as the woman drew a vial from her cloak and lifted it into the light. Murky purple acid bubbled within the glass and gingerly, the old witch extended her hand to Meryn. Their eyes locked, violet with green, and knowingly, the woman whispered, "Drink this, and he will fall again. I promise you."
Hesitantly, Meryn accepted the vial and studied the woman's face carefully. She knew better than to trust mysterious strangers, but this one . . . this one seemed different. She was wise and powerful, Meryn could see that much in her eyes, yet there was something bitter in her. And though the conditions were perfect for everything to change - for her plans to take a turn for the worse, she could feel only blind faith. Somewhere inside, she knew that this woman would bring her no harm; that they were alike. And so, closing her eyes, she threw her head back and poured the putrid elixir into her mouth.
[Author's Notes: Review or I'll.. I'll sing! *evil laugh*]
by: Kiora
--
[Author's Notes: After another eternity, here's chapter seven! Yeah! Maybe I *will* finish this before the millennium ends after all. Okay.. about this part, um.. you'll need to know who has green eyes to pick up on everything I guess, but since I've obsessed over that enough in the first chapter, I won't remind you. Thank-yous to everyone who reviewed and everyone who didn't is a cabbage. So there. Enjoy!]
--
"No, not that," Trunks groaned, his pleas turning into whines, "anything but that!" It was morning again, a morning that came much quicker than it should have, in his opinion. Knowing his mother still had a soft spot for puppy eyes, he tried his best to look innocent, "Please! Have mercy!"
Bulma replied with a simple "no," and continued her lecture, "There is going to be a ball tomorrow night, and I am going to see results. Or else." She glared at him threateningly and added, "I obviously can't trust you with this anymore."
Trunks sighed, knowing from the look in his mother's eyes that there was no use in arguing; he would never win. "Here we go again."
-- f a l l
The music flooded his mind, and it hurt to think, but the thoughts wouldn't stay away. It felt to him like the same song had been playing all evening, the same boring, monotonous melody that was starting to grate on his nerves. His restless eyes wandered the vast hall, but in those empty eyes, every girl looked the same, no different than the last. And not a single girl, regardless of her beauty or disposition, could catch his attention for long. And so he was bored.
"Would you care to dance?" A quiet voice roused him from his trance and he found himself gazing into a pair of familiar green eyes. And though those eyes looked the same as they always had - just as alluring, just as bright, just as appealing, there was something more to them. Something evil, something enchanting, something different . . . but it was something he couldn't resist.
"Fine." His answer was just as soft, almost forced, but just from looking into her eyes, a wave of comfort washed over him. It was something he had never felt before, and it wasn't love, not the kind you'd give another person. Not the true love that girls so often dream about, the finding of a soul mate. No, it wasn't that, it didn't feel like that; it was something different, something stronger. Something that made him feel as if he wasn't himself anymore, just a spectator.
And as this feeling washed over him, it took control, and it flooded his mind with an artificial comfort. He sank back into the depths of his soul as his body went on moving, his mind went on thinking. His limbs were no longer his to move, his thoughts no longer his to think, and he realized it a moment too late: this feeling was magic.
-- f a l l
It was almost too easy for her, as if everything was meant to go her way. Of course, it was hell trying to get the Queen to believe her story, but the confidence in her persuasive skills was well placed. She had pulled through. Meryn fidgeted nervously in front of the mirror, fixing her flowing auburn hair and gazing at herself through dark eyelashes. Everything was in place, but there was still time for things to go wrong, and so she worried as she smoothed the wrinkles in her elegant gown. She knew she was beautiful, confidence wasn't the problem, and she knew that as she was, no man could resist her. That was never a problem either. But Trunks, he wasn't like most men. He didn't make the same mistake twice. He fell once . . . but would he fall again?
'Quit worrying.' She told herself, pasting the bright grin back onto her face, 'You've got nothing to fear.' And with those thoughts in mind, she hid her mirror away and extended her gloved hand to the driver. As she strutted proudly toward the palace, a gruff voice caught her attention.
"I can help you." An old woman stepped out of the shadows, violet eyes glowing. Wrinkles decorated her tanned face, and it was easy to see that she was older than most. Her robes were made of velvet and lined with gold, and she smelled of herbs and musty, aged wine. Silver hair fell down her back in thick layers, and an aura of intensity filled the air where she stood. It wasn't hard to see that she was something you don't see everyday.
Meryn, surprised, took a step back, and directed her unwavering gaze toward the little old lady who so suddenly came into view. No words were said as the woman drew a vial from her cloak and lifted it into the light. Murky purple acid bubbled within the glass and gingerly, the old witch extended her hand to Meryn. Their eyes locked, violet with green, and knowingly, the woman whispered, "Drink this, and he will fall again. I promise you."
Hesitantly, Meryn accepted the vial and studied the woman's face carefully. She knew better than to trust mysterious strangers, but this one . . . this one seemed different. She was wise and powerful, Meryn could see that much in her eyes, yet there was something bitter in her. And though the conditions were perfect for everything to change - for her plans to take a turn for the worse, she could feel only blind faith. Somewhere inside, she knew that this woman would bring her no harm; that they were alike. And so, closing her eyes, she threw her head back and poured the putrid elixir into her mouth.
[Author's Notes: Review or I'll.. I'll sing! *evil laugh*]