A/N: Thank you thank you to my loverly reviewers! You're too kind. -tosses cookies- I'm really sorry that it's been so long since I last updated, but I've been kinda busy with real life lately and haven't had all that much time to write. However, I'm back, school is out at the end of the month, and I should have more free time to write over the summer. So be happy! -nod-
He was a formless spirit, trapped within the mirror, helpless and despising it with all his might. "Let me out!" he begged her. "Do something, anything! Do something, damn you!"
She tried to move, tried to help him although she had no idea how; she could feel his anger at being trapped like this, his despair that he might never get out--could feel all his emotions as though they were her own. But no matter how hard her muscles strained, she couldn't move, couldn't do anything. She was utterly and completely helpless, as trapped as the spirit imprisoned in the mirror.
Snow sat straight up in bed, sweating and tangled in the sheets. The candle on her nightstand had gone out, and it was a new moon outside; she froze and clutched the blanket to her chest, held frozen by her phobia.
Somehow, she managed to make her muscles work, moving jerkily from the bed and making her way through the room by feel. She half fell against the door and yanked it open, sighing in relief and collapsing against the wall as light from the hallway torches flooded her room. It was a rule in the castle that torches were always left lit in the commonly-used hallway; they were something of a fire hazard, but at least it kept people from tripping over things when they had to use the privy in the middle of the night (with a princess as clumsy as Snow, one had to take such precautions).
Over the past few days, the mirror had become yet another of her pet mysteries. She'd remained excused from lessons, and she needed something to do with her time, after all; why not try and figure it out? At last she had decided that it really had been her imagination--but although her brain had dismissed it, her subconscious evidently refused to accept that she had just imagined it. This was the third time this week she'd woken up sweating from the exact same nightmare.
Grabbing the candle from her nightstand, she stepped gingerly out into the hallway and lit the wick from one of the hallway torches. The castle was utterly deserted this late at night; not even the servants were around. Rosa wouldn't even be in her room--she was on a trip to visit their cousin in Terlet, and was going to be gone for quite some time. Snow had been snooping around, and happened to already know that she'd forgotten to pack her beloved mirror.
She tiptoed all the way to Rosa's room, careful of the creaky board in the hallway and entirely avoiding the stairs; she hadn't had an accident for several days now, which meant she was overdue, and whatever happened next was likely to be truly horrible. Thank the gods; the door to her sister's room was unlocked, and the mirror laid out on the bed--she'd probably intended to pack it, but had forgotten and left without it. Snatching it, she closed the door behind her and tiptoed all the way back to her own room.
Collapsing onto her bed stomach first, she held the mirror in front of her and gazed at it. Her own face looked back at her, gnawing nervously at her lower lip. "Hello?" she whispered, as quietly as she could--she didn't want to wake anyone else in the castle. "Is anyone there?"
Her own reflection blurred once, then twice, then solidified into an entirely different image. Coppery skin, brown hair about as long as her own, green eyes a little darker than hers--definitely a masculine face. The man in the mirror looked vaguely familiar, but it took her a moment to place it; when she did, she nearly dropped the mirror in shock.
In all her wildest dreams, she'd never imagined that the mystery of the mirror and the mystery of Prince Rayden's disappearance were really one and the same.
"Prince Rayden?" She stared at the mirror, blinking.
He blinked back. "Snow White?" He sounded about as surprised as she was.
"What are you doing in a mirror?" she demanded.
A corner of his mouth twisted sardonically. "Your sister put me in here."
"Rosa? How?"
"Sorcery." She raised an eyebrow; he glared at her. "Well, how else would I have gotten in here?"
"Well...why did she put you in here? I mean, I thought you two were--well..."
"Screwing?" he suggested. She felt her cheeks growing warm; his mouth twisted. "Evidently something I did pissed her right off."
"Because you didn't marry her."
"That, and plus she somehow got the idea that I was cheating on her with you."
"With me?"
"With you. I tried to tell her it was about the least likeliest thing to happen, but would she listen? Of course not. So the bitch put me in this gods-damned place, and as far as I know, there's no way for me to get out. So I'm just fucked." He shrugged. "Sorry. I haven't been around anyone civilized in quite some time."
"Don't worry, I've heard it before," she assured him. "So...any idea why she picked this particular sort of revenge? Seems a little odd to me."
"Making me her gods-damned slave, that's why. Little bitch. How did you manage to find me, anyway?"
"I don't know. I saw you once, when I was snooping in Rosa's room--and just now, I couldn't sleep so I went to her room and took the mirror to see if I could see you again. I don't know why it worked this time."
"Well, you're the only person besides Rosa who's been able to talk to me so far. So who knows, maybe you'll be able to get me out. Although I seriously fucking--I seriously doubt it." He shrugged ruefully. "Sorry. I've gotten used to having a dirty mouth because it pisses Rosa off."
"Like I said. I've heard it before."
"If you say so." He sighed. "Please don't put me back in Rosa's room. I'm sick and tired of putting up with her shit."
"But what would I do when she noticed you were gone? Knowing the way she carries this mirror around with her everywhere, she'd probably panic as soon as she came home and it wasn't where she left it."
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Shit. I guess you can't. Oh, well. I've been putting up with the bitch for a year, I'll survive. Not like I've got much of a choice."
"You know, I've been wondering all year where you went. Everyone has all kinds of theories on what happened to you, and why you just mysteriously disappeared. Rumor has it your father is going to divorce your mother and take another wife so he can get another heir."
"Figures." He sighed. "Shit, shit, and double shit. You have no idea how much I miss having a body."
"I can imagine."
"No, you can't."
"You're right, I can't."
She had the distinct impression that he stretched, although she couldn't see much more of him than his head and shoulders. "You know, you're the first person I've talked to in a whole year that isn't a total asshole."
"I'm so honored. Although considering that the only person you've talked to in the past year is Rosa, I'm not real sure it's much of a comparison."
"Certainly not," he said, then, in a complete change of subject, "What time is it, anyway?"
She shrugged. "I think it's around midnight."
"Oh. Aren't you tired?"
"Now that you mention it...yes." She yawned. "I hope you don't mind if I go to sleep."
"Good night, Snow White."
"Call me Snow," she muttered, collapsing into her pillow. She stayed awake long enough to shove the mirror under her pillow where it would be safe, and then was asleep in an instant.
Saying that being a mirror wasn't fun would have been a gross understatement. Saying that it was hell didn't quite encompass the matter, either. In some of his spare time, he tried to find a statement that would describe what it was like; he hadn't found one yet.
Putting up with Rosa all day was definitely the worst part of it. He tried to make her angry whenever he could; it was fun watching her face turn purple. She always managed to get back at him, though. She loved to taunt him by asking that question, "Who's the fairest of them all?" Damn, but it grated on his nerves to have to admit there was anything positive about that bitch, even if it was just looks.
The second worst part was not having a body. It didn't happen often, but there were times when he could feel his foot itch, and yet ht couldn't scratch it--the only part of him that had any sort of a (relatively) physical manifestation was his head and shoulders.
And now, of course, being around a woman other than Rosa, he missed his body most of all. Not that Snow White was that attractive; but hell, she was pretty in her own way, and Rosa had probably ruined his taste for beautiful women anyway. And having been totally celibate for a year...he was desperate.
Oh, hell. What had he ever done to deserve this, anyway? Maybe he'd never been a saint, but it wasn't like he'd ever done enough to deserve hell in a mirror.
Sleep was an odd, empty, dreamless thing when one was a mirror, but he tried his best anyway. After all, most of the time he didn't have anything better to do. Sleep was instant and engulfing tonight, which he was grateful for. It did at least mean that he wouldn't have to sit around (figuratively speaking) with nothing to do except be bored.
A/N: Prince Rayden has a dirty mouth. -nod- Sorry that this chapter is so short; I promise the next one will be longer. I'm trying to write this story and Cursed Rose at the same time, which is difficult. Plus I am a Professional Procrastinator (I would have become a Professional Procrastinator earlier in my life, but I kept putting it off).
Um…I had something else I was going to say, but I forgot what it was. If I remember what it was, I'll put it in the next chapter. Bye for now! -waves and runs off-