A/N: To all the those people who were irritated by the word "enfant", I changed it to "infant" I blame my three years of French for that mistake. Anyways, some interesting things will happen, and I'm happy to say that "Snow White" is going to be introduced in about 3-4 chapters, so hang in there! To all the people who have reviewed: Thank you very much! Most of the time I check out the stories of my reviewers so *wink wink, Review! (If you have any questions, or confusions about the story  feel free to tell me. I would be more than happy to answer your questions.)

Just Like a Fairy Tale

            Magnificent colors of red and gold adorned the trees of the fall. Viola was ordered to gather wood for the fire, by her mother. Her mother held a stronger grip on her than before. After she found out the cause of her father's death, her fear for her mother increased, and her hopes of escaping died. She was stuck in a life of slavery of which she could not escape. There were times when she had tried to end her life, but she had always stopped herself, fearing the afterlife. Death was not an option for her. She took her time picking dry branches and twigs, cherishing the time without her mother. All was not well, though. Since she had entered the forest, Viola had a sinking feeling that she was being watched or followed by something. The sound of a twig snapping shocked her systems. She turned slowly around to see no one there. Living with mother was shattered me, it is nothing. I am just being paranoid .She walked on further, and she began to hear footsteps.

            I must surely be losing my mind.

  Skeptically she turned around to see a filthy man smiling lewdly at her, right in front of her. His sight disgusted her. His face was that of a demon. He was covered with dirt and sweat, with leaves in his hair. Stringy hair slightly covered his face, as he brushed them to the side. What terrified Viola the most, was his dark brooding beady eyes, that reminder her of a wolf's. He drew closer to her, and his offensive stench grew stronger.

            As she backed away, she whispered, "…who are you?"

            The man gave an evil grin, "You're so beautiful." Viola's eyes widened with terror.

            "You're frightening me," she whispered.

            "Don't be frightened, I just love you. I've been watching you for some time now, and…I've been keeping this feeling inside."

            "Love me?" Viola had never seen this man before, how could he have love her?

            "I can't contain my feelings inside," he said helplessly as he drew near her.

            "What do you want from me?!"

            "I want  you to love me back…" A heartbreaking look appeared on the gruesome face. Viola felt pity and revulsion for the man.

            "But how can I love you when I don't even know you?!"

            "You will though…I'll make sure of that." His eyes became menacing and dark as he advanced toward her. He didn't need to say more, Viola ran as fast as she could.

            "Where are you going, darling?!" he gave a sinister laugh and ran after her. Despite his bulky body, he ran much faster than she did. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to him.

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            Four years had passed and his hopes for finding Evelyn were growing dim. He had searched every corner of the kingdom, just to find nothing. His parents begged him to come back home, saying that it was a lost cause. The queen pitied and gave sympathy to her son, but four years had passed and there was no trace of her. The king on the other hand, was enraged to know that his son was wandering about looking for a girl, instead of preparing to be king. Tristan was returning home, to the palace, to see his father who was growing ill.  He was riding his horse in the forest when he heard a scream.

            Evelyn!

            Tristan was overjoyed and frightened at the same time. He wasn't sure if it was Evelyn, but the voice was so much like hers. She was in trouble, and he had to save her. He heard screams crying for help to his left and quickly sped to the source of the screams.

            The man lunged at her as she desperately tried to get away from him. At each attempt to run away, the man would catch her again before she could even begin. He grabbed her by the wrists and threw her against the tree.

            "Please!" she cried, "Let me be! Please let me go!"

            "I love you! Damn it! And I will not leave till you do too!"

            "Help!" she cried as his face grew closer to hers. "Please somebody help!" Tears streamed from her eyes, as he forced his lips upon her. She struggled to escape his grip but he held her tight.

            "HELP!!!" She screamed continuously. "Let me go!"

            "You will love me." He said quietly. He slid his slippery hands over her body, as he kissed her neck. The sound of a horse, distracted the man, and Viola took this chance to run away. Enraged the man grabbed her and struck her down. As her vision began to black out, she saw a handsome young man run to her side.

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            Where am I?

            Viola opened her eyes, to see the night sky above. She quickly rose, and saw a small fire beside her.

            "You're awake." Viola looked upon the speaker and looked upon his face. He was beautiful, and he had saved her.

            "Are you alright?" Viola unable to speak nodded her head and shyly smiled.

He grinned back and said, "You slept for such a long time, that I thought you weren't going to make it. I hope you are all right, though. That must have been quite a scare." She remembered what had happened to her, and tears began to well up in her eyes.

"I should've killed him when I had my chance. The coward ran away even before I could see his face."

            "Thank you," she whispered looking into his eyes.

            "It's alright. I barely did anything…"

            "May I, may I ask the name of my hero?" she asked coyly.

            "My name is Tristan." The name rang a bell to Viola; the only Tristan she heard of was the prince.

            "Prince Tristan?" She looked at him skeptically. He was fair enough to be a prince, but there was an air of weariness that made him seem more like a commoner.

            "…Yeah," he sighed.

            "My goodness, I'm sorry I didn't know you were a prince, your highness."

            "You didn't do anything wrong. Honestly I don't see what you're sorry about," he interrupted. He gave a small grin, "I'd rather have you call me Tristan than "your highness", and at this point I don't think I deserve the title anyways."

            "But, your hi-, I mean, Tris-, no, sir, it would be wrong of me to not address you correctly."

            "Please, I wish you didn't."

            "But your highness, it would be wrong of me to…"

He sighed, "Do as you wish … um… what is your name?"

"My name is Viola, your highness…" He gave a small smile and looked into the small fire as a deep sadness settled in his eyes.

            "It seems my hero is sad." Viola looked down at her hands. After living with her mother for years, she was able to detect the slightest change of emotion, in other people. It had made her a bit paranoid, but this trait of hers saved her from several beatings.

            "No, you are mistaken. I'm fine," he lied, forcing his lips to a slight smile.

            She lifted her eyes up for a second, "I-I know very little, but…I know when someone is unhappy, your highness..." He looked straight at her. The girl had very little similarities with Evelyn. However, her voice reminded him of her. Her voice hung in the air like music, just as Evelyn's voice did. It made him think of her more, and miss her more.

            "Prince Tristan?" Viola's eyes searched the prince's face and waited for a reply. He was so perfect, just like a prince from a fairy tale. She felt like her dream was coming true, if only it would last.

            Tristan broke out of his trance, "It's getting quite dark… Don't you think your family will be worried?"

            Oh my god… Mother!

            Viola quickly stood up, "I'm sorry I have to go now. Thank you for saving me. I will never forget your kindness."

            "Would you like me to take you home?"

            "No, no. It's fine."

            "Well, then have a safe journey home."

            "I will. Goodbye," she said as she ran. She couldn't believe she had forgotten her mother and her mirror. She prayed that her mother was drunk. She would rather be hit by her mother, than have her know about the events in the forest. Her heart pounded as she raced home. Her mother would be furious.

She ran into their cottage, "Mother! I'm home! I'm terribly sorry. I- I got lost…and…I c-couldn't find my way. Please…I- I wasn't going to run away. I just g-got lost…a-and"

Medora came from the bedroom, with an evil sneer on her face, "I know where you have been… I wonder why a prince as charming as he is, would save you?"

"Please mother…" Viola begged, "Please don't hurt him."

"My child, what do you think I am, A MONSTER!? Now, why would I hurt him? Are you afraid, my child, that I would send a bolt of lightning to strike him?!" Medora gave a malicious laugh as she drew closer to Viola. "I could, you know. Or maybe I should send of pack of wolves to rip him apart."

"No! Please, I beg of you! Don't hurt him!"

"My, my… Are you in love with the prince?" scoffed Medora. "This is just too much! A witch's daughter is in love! And to WHO? Why the prince, of course!" Medora circled Viola as she spoke.

"Do you honestly think that a prince would love you? No wait, do you think that the prince loves at all? Pitiful! Men do not love! All they want is what your body can give them. That is all they want! Love doesn't exist, my darling. The only sure feeling a person can have is hate and jealousy and nothing else.  This world manifests itself on hate! Love! Love is but a figment of some idiot's imagination!" Medora said with bitter disdain in her voice.

"…but"

"BUT WHAT?!"

"…but didn't you love father?" Medora's menacing eyes set on Viola's. Her hand was poised to strike as she approached the trembling girl. Viola cringed in fear, but all her thoughts consisted of the prince who had saved her and the smell of jasmine.

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            He rode the horse at a slow and steady pace as the palace came in sight. He was weary and cold from riding in the wintry weather. Evelyn had loved the winter, he remembered. She was able to stand the cold much better than he was. He smiled as he recalled the times when he persistently made her wear his cloak, when he himself could not stand the cold. He spent just one year with her, but that one-year changed him completely. He usually did not respond to the pleas to come home, but this time, he was told that his father's health had worsened a great deal. As he come close. As he entered a nearby town, the townspeople looked at him with sadness and grief. He felt a foreboding sensation radiating from the palace.

            "…my prince, my poor prince"

            "tis a sad day…"

            "you have arrived!"

            The cries of the townspeople vexed Tristan as he listened to their cries of sorrow.

            He grabbed a passerby and asked, "Please, tell me of what has happened? Why is everybody so sad?"

            The man answered in tears, "My prince! Your father the king…such a good man. Such a good man!"

            "What of my father?!"

            "The good king has… has passed away." Tristan stood in numb.

            "…a lie…what you say is a lie," he said dazed.

            "If it were truly a lie, if only it was."

            "My father cannot die! He cannot!" Tristan left the town, as he raced his horse toward the palace.

            My father is not dead! He just can't!

            He entered the courtyard and saw that everyone was dressed in black. He got off his horse and rushed to the throne room.

            "Mother! Father!" he cried desperately. By the throne, he saw his brother weeping like a child.

            "Elidor! Where are mother and father?"

            His brother gave incoherent cries and then burrowed his head onto Tristan.

            "Elidor, take me to Father! Come now! Take me to them!" he said as he held his brother up. Elidor guided Tristan to their father's bedroom. Mourners who cried for their king crowded the door to the bedroom.

            "Prince Tristan! You have arrived…you are late."

            "Late for what Durwin." Tristan whispered.

            "Please you must go in, the queen awaits you." Tristan opened the door and entered the room. The smell of death had filled the room. He numbly turned to the bed, where he saw his mother crying. He went up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

            "Tristan!" her mother cried as tears streamed out her eyes.

            "I'm here now…don't cry…" His mother cried on his shoulder as he looked to his father. Such a good man. A man who had helped a kingdom prosper and flourish, a man who had been such a good father to him and his brother, that man was now dead. He felt the tears well up in his eyes and let them fall as he closed his eyes. He would have to be the strong one now.

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            A month had passed by since the funeral and the palace was beginning to come alive again. The prince was now a king. It took him awhile to get over the death of his father, but he remembered that he had to be strong, now that he was a king. He wasn't ready to be a king. There was so much to learn and so much responsibility. He looked over the landscape through his window. The kingdom seemed much larger than he thought of it before. The February air had chilled the palace, but Tristan left his fireplace alone.

"Are you not cold?" said a voice behind him.

"I'm sorry, but I asked to be alone," he said without looking behind him.

"So you have…However, you have not answered my question. I will not leave till you answer it," she said persistently. Rather annoyed, the king turned and looked to see the speaker, who was wearing a cloak and hood that covered her face.

"Yes, I am cold. Now, please leave," he said with obvious irritation.

"Then why do you not light a fire, in the fireplace?" she asked while lifting her hood off her head. Tristan stood in disbelief, unable to move.

"…you," he whispered.

She smiled and whispered, "I'm back."