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Fairytale Land of the Past
Sweep. Sweep. Sweep.
That's all she ever seems to do. She keeps on sweeping, till all the straw has been pushed away. Till the dust has scattered. Till the floor was somewhat clear. She would daydream, however. Drift off into a better place where she could dance in lights and shine so ever pure and true. She just had to keep on sweeping, though. Sweeping wouldn't get her there, but it would keep her baby alive.
Sweep. Sweep. Sweep.
How many hours? She did not know. Her hands began to blister and a few splinters were embedded in her palms from how long she has been sweeping, clutching the wooden end of the broom. She had grown to ignore them, her calluses begged to differ. They have grown greatly, nearly over riding her hands and feet. Her shoes were merely padded socks with holes and patches forming around the bottom to keep them secure. This was no way to live.
Sweep. Sweep. Sweep.
Her blond hair draped into her eyes, still bits of straw tangled within the knotty mess, and sweat covering her brow. She wiped some away with the back of her hand, but it was never that easy and her master only allowed her to bathe once every week. She had already taken this week's worth, or did she? She couldn't remember. Her memory was vague. Just escape was clear and present.
Sweep. Sweep. Sweep. Stop.
Someone was here. She could feel their presence within the atmosphere. Someone was watching her work. It couldn't have been her master. He never watches her work. He simply inspects once her tasks have been completed. Who was here? Who was watching? Whoever it was, after some long, agonizing five minutes of feeling like a deer being hunted, they spoke.
"Well, don't stop on my account, dearie," they said, and she turned quickly from where she stood, facing the opposite direction to catch a glimpse at the mysterious speaker. A rather ugly looking fellow.
Wild hair, like he has been living on the streets or stuck having the poor life himself. Rather large eyes that seemed able to dig into a person's soul, looking well beyond their deepest, darkest fears, but rather at what could kill them with a single glance. He smiled, showing her his teeth. Rotten and out of line, some crossing the others, some not even present. His teeth were worse than brown, they were black. Crusted with darkness and what she may even believe to be human flesh. How horrid. His skin, ugh! Scaly and green, shimmering slightly like fish scales. What an ugly looking creature.
"Wh-what are you?" she stuttered towards the man sitting upon her master's wooden fence. He would not be too pleased if he saw that. His grin fell to a mark of annoyance. "How rude. You do not ask someone 'what' they are, rather 'who' they are." She had forgotten her manners so quickly. Manners, as her master had taught her, was the most important thing in the world.
She bowed her head slightly, giving a bit of a dip at the knees to show just how sorry she was. "My apologies, good...um...sir. I seemed to have bit my tongue. I am Gretchen, and you may be?" He seemed pleased with her new form of attitude, hopping off the fence and landing gracefully on his feet. He gave her a bow in return as if he was overly proud of himself and who he was, but she noticed he did not flash his face when he spoke his name. "Rumplestiltskin," he spoke with a roll of the R. He then picked himself up and held his posture proudly. "And, do you always apologize, Gretchen?" he questioned. She looked at her feet and then back up at him, hoping the floor contained the answer he seeked, but there was no look for her vision.
"I'm sorry, I must have b-"
"There you go again, apologizing. Why do you apologize so much, dearie?" She has never been asked such things before. Why did she always apologize? Because according to her master, she was always in the wrong. "I did not mean to offend, Rumplestiltskin. I am just curious as to why you would ask me such a question." He shrugged. "Obviously you have never been asked it before or perhaps it is so normal to everyone around you that they grow no interest in knowing the reason behind it so long as you continue to do it." Made sense.
"I am a servant to the rich man, Lord Heins," she explained, but that seemed to make no difference to him. "Is he really a Lord or simply just richer than everyone else?" She had no answer to his question once again, and now he started to circle her. A predator stalking his prey, just trying to decipher where he was going to stick his claws in first. Where was the best place to strike?
"I have heard your wishes, dearie. Your talks to your son at night. How you desire to gain magic to help people. To get a better life for you and your son. To escape this place and gain your own happily ever after." How did he know such things? She could only take a guess about who he was, and that guess was spot on. The Dark One. He picked up a loose piece of blond hair that covered her ear, holding it in between two fingers as he whispered into her ear. "I can offer you that escape." Her spirits picked up within her, dancing in little circles like the world's best ballerinas. Spinning across the stage on the very tips of their toes, at their highest point ever. "You can do that? You would do that for me?" she questioned as he released that stray piece of hair from the rest that was tied back.
He gained some distance between himself and her, allowing her a moment to process or perhaps to get confused by his statement. "I can give you powers, dearie," he spoke with no emotion, not even facing her. "Powers beyond your wildest dreams, but you must give me something in return." Powers? Real powers? She would give him whatever he so desired for such a gift, such a treasure.
She let her grasp on the broom be released, it clattering to the floor by her sudden reluctance to hold it any longer. It felt good for her fingers to be released from their tough curl around such a slender wooden pole. Free to move, free to have blood properly flowing throughout them. "Anything," she spoke faster than she could think. "Anything you want is your's, what is it you desire? Even though I have very little to give." He turned back around, that silly grin reappearing back across his face, making her shiver a bit inside. He gave his wrist a flick and out from it came an extended piece of paper. A scroll of some sort. Gretchen did not know how to read.
"It is written in black and white," he spoke in almost a hiss of a tone. Gretchen shrugged her shoulders while shaking her head. "I can't read. I was never taught," she admitted. He pulled a quill out of thin air, holding it in between two fingers as he approached her. "Contracts are just a way to prove that the deal we made is binding. What I want from you, Gretchen, is something you have to be willing to trade in order for such a deal to be made." She prepared herself for whatever it may be. Her voice, her hair, maybe even her eyes? No, he wouldn't take such worthless things, would he? "My price," he whispered, "is your first born."
What? Todd? He wanted Todd? What would he want with Todd? "You want my son? Todd?" He shrugged. "You asked for something, I ask for something in return. I can give you this magic that you so seek, this grand possession that you wish to call your own, but in return I am going to have to ask for a grand possession of your own. Magic always comes at a price. This is yours."
"I don't understand," she tried her best not to stutter. "Why would you want my son?" she asked. "What does it matter?" was his response. "You want magic, I never asked why. I just said I could give it to you, just like you can give me your son."
"Well, I am assuming you know the answer as to why I want magic. I think I deserve to know why you want my son."
"The question here, dearie, is something you must answer. What is more important to you; Your son..." he extended the contract out to her. "Or your freedom?"
She bit her bottom lip harshly, looking at all the signs. Was this a good deal? She didn't know. She never made one before in her life, and how important was Todd to her? He really did not do much. He sucked up her hard earn pay, took her bath days sometimes, and even complained his stomach hurt from the lack of food. Was he worth taking care of? Was he worth more to her than magic?
She snatched the quill from his hand. He spun around, placing the contract on his back, allowing her a steady surface to sign on. She hastily signed her name on the dotted line, leaving no trace of remorse behind. He sent the contract and quill away as he faced her, seemingly displeased, yet somewhat relieved she made the decision she chose. "Make good choices," he bid her as he flashed away, taking Todd with him.
Fairytale Land of the Present
She walked unsteadily and unfocused out into the dance floor as Henry was greeted by more guest. She hadn't even realized the two of them had separated. She was just so lost in her own thoughts, her personal views of anything and everything that was going on around her. Her father, her mother, her nephew, her nearly a sister, her dead half brother. All these relatives and their backstories made her head do a cartwheel, unable to comprehend how all of these people could even stand to be in the same room together. Could be in one happy environment without having the urge to slit each other's throats, or at least not act out upon that urge.
Should she even read the book?
It would be such a slap in the face to her parents. They weren't telling her anything. She only knew the basics. Okay, so telling her why her father stayed inside all the time, how he became the Dark One and all was rather interesting facts that Lucinda truly did appreciate their open honesty with those rather delicate subjects, but she felt she deserved more than that. She was going to be sixteen in a matter of days. She thought she was more than eligible to hear more.
Stuck in her decision making, Lucinda was paying no attention and so had no awareness that the man beside her was going to give the biggest bow in the world, knocking into her with his rather large bum and sending her sideways across the floor. She slammed into another person, and everyone just went down like a set of dominos. One right after the other. Some landed on their stomachs, some on their backs, others on their behinds. She covered her mouth with her hands and rushed to the aid of the first person she spotted on the floor- Snow White.
She picked up her dress and did her best to run in the heels, but was so unsteady in them that she could not maintain her own balance. She skidded on her knees once she had reached the fallen queen, but tried ever so desperately to compose herself. "Oh, Your Majesty, I am so sorry. I really am. I did not mean to...oh gosh." But Snow merely chuckled as Lucinda offered her her hand. "Lucinda, it's fine. Really. Not a big fuss." But she could feel her fifteen year old cheeks turning red with embarrassment. "Yes, it is. I knocked over the queen. I'm sorry." But Snow was too busy chuckling at her own clumsiness to be too mad at the girl who helped her up.
"This is no funny business," Lucinda said and looked around to see the mess she made. Broken glass from refreshments on the floor as well as spilled over platters of food and unserved finger sandwiches all whisked about in a un-orderly fashion. She watched as the servants came racing over to help clean up the fuss, but Lucinda felt her responsibilities urge sink in as she knew she was most likely the main reason all of this was happening.
"No, no," she waved her hands and released Snow's to get to the mess, sending the queen falling back down without Lucinda's attention. "Please, let me get it," she said and attempted to use her magic. She forcibly moved her hands from the floor to the table in an unsuccessful attempt of returning the food to its rightful place. However, she must have been trying too hard as her magic went out of control, sending the broken glass, spilled drinks and well over the five-second-rule food across the room like a giant hand commenced a food fight. Everyone took cover, getting low to the floor with their hands over their heads as the mixture of mess flew into the far wall and proceeded in the act of knocking over some candles, illuminating the drapes.
Her eyes widened in horror as the drapes exploded into a blast of furry filled flames, rising above into the air. People screamed in fear as the sparks only sprinted into a more wild and crazy dance as Lucinda tried to control them, only making them worse. "No. No. No," she whined to herself, trying to maintain her balance like her father had taught her, but the only moment she could focus on was the one she was stuck in.
"Lucinda, stop!" Snow called from the floor that she still rested on due to Lucinda's lack of focus on just one subject matter at hand. "Oh, Queen Snow!" she shouted and stopped working on her magic, allowing the flames to grow even brighter and spread to more curtains. "I am so sorry," she said as she attempted to help Snow to her feet, only knocking over the person behind her. "Oh, sir, my bad. Here, let me help you."
"The fire!" someone shouted and Lucinda tried once more to focus while helping random people to their feet, only to knock over another. Her point of the fingers did not go so well for the drapes's blaze only grew stronger and more intense.
"Put it out! Put it out!" people screamed as Lucinda went about, trying to handle everything at once and failing at it miserably. She tried to use the punch to possibly stop the blaze, pointing to the bowl and then at the curtains, but she had no idea the sweet treat was spiked with the highly flammable content of alcohol. The flames only grew brighter. People ran and slipped, screamed and cried.
"Lucinda!" she could hear Henry shout, and saw Belle and Emma race into the room of disasters. Belle's blue eyes glowed with the blaze as Emma raced off to help her mother and son gain control of the situation. Her daughter did this? Belle wanted to face palm herself, but fought the urge knowing that the punishment Lucinda was going to face was going to be far worse than the events that was taking place now.
As she raced about, helping people up and knocking them over, another person's presence entered the smoke and catastrophe filled room. Suddenly and rather abruptly, the flames died down and the chaos calmed. The mess still laid about, but at least no more lives were at stake. All eyes shifted to the person in the doorway, standing with her palm raised and eyes tame. To think she would be the one to save them from such a horrified event. Regina rested her hand and looked to Lucinda emotionlessly.
Then all the eyes followed. Everyone's. Emma's, Charming's, Henry's, Snow's, the random party guests's, and even her mother's. She was stuck in the spotlight of some one person show of ignorance and misery. Here she was as the leading lady. She was so frozen, so stuck in the moment that not even the tears could fall from her eyes and only her rapid breathing was the sound heard until the whispers began.
"She is a menace."
"Such a klutz."
"She doesn't belong here."
"She doesn't belong anywhere."
"How could Belle give birth to her?"
"How could she have been born?"
"How could Belle do such a thing with such a beast?"
"She should have never been born."
"She is just as dark as her father."
That one hit her in the gut. It was harder than any punch in the face, steeper than any incline, more sour than any bitter taste, and more depressing than a broken heart. No one wanted her. No one would ever accept her...just like they never accepted her father. They didn't know. They would never know.
Silent tears leaked from her eyes, making them pink and puffy, streaming down her cheeks as little rivers of her sorrows. Her hair had slightly fallen out and her dress was stained with the destruction she has caused. A lump in her throat had made breathing a task more difficult than it should be and her heart swelled up like a sore in such pain being rubbed with salt. Every eye that rested upon her was an eye of hate. She looked to her mother who was on the verge of tears herself, but unable to say a word. Emma breathed harshly as she held her mother close, Killian beside her and Charming next to his wife. Henry and Neal looked on and she was sure that her nephew was rejecting helping her just moments ago.
The last person she looked to was Regina. The only one who looked at her without disgust, without anger, without anything except warm eyes. Comforting eyes. Sparkles within them that she saw in no one else.
"Lucinda," she heard her mother whisper, but the young girl had had enough. She slipped her feet out of her shoes and picked up her dress. She backed away just about before racing off into a full bolt, covering her mouth with one hand and hauling her dress with the other as tears leaked from her eyes without a second's delay.
Belle went to chase after her daughter, but was stopped by Regina, holding her arm out and blocking the young mother from reaching her overly depressed and broken daughter. "Don't, Belle," she said and the two locked eyes.
"Regina, she's my daughter."
"Who is nothing like you. She holds your beauty and kindness, Belle, but that's about it. She is mostly like her father...and so lost. She is scared and confused. I may not know him better than you, but I have known him longer and he was my magic instructor for years. I know a little bit more about his powers than you do." Belle could not deny a single word she said, and looked out to where her daughter had disappeared to. Regina and Belle were not the best of friends, but recently they have been on good terms. "Let me talk to her." That caused Belle's head to snap in Regina's direction, nearly slapping herself in the face with her own curls as she did so. "You are adored wherever you are, always have been. Rumple never was and neither was I. She can get all the pep talks in the world from her father, but never her mother. She needs a woman's words to help her. Not a man's." Reluctant, but desperate, Belle took in a deep breath and thought about the look on her daughter's face before she ran away to be alone in her sorrows and own self doubt.
"Be gentle to her, please," Belle finally spoke. Regina nodded and patted the sweet Belle on the shoulder before following the path the young princess once took to get away from the hateful eyes and fallen faces. The same eyes Regina had been dealing with nearly her whole life.
Lucinda had to escape their hateful gazes and jeering whispers. So she ran into the garden, where she knew no one would follow her. Her hair had completely fallen out from its bun and now rested on her shoulders. Her makeup was running down her face as the tears fell from her eyes, making dark streaks cross over her face. Her feet were filthy from running through the dirt bare, and her heart was damaged. She had no idea how to control her powers. Was there even a way?
She could sense a sudden disturbance about her, another one there with her-just watching her as she cried. "Can you please just leave me alone, and not make me feel worse about myself for five minutes?" she asked to whoever it was that was standing beside her as she sobbed on the floor underneath a willow tree. She had a few guesses on who it could be; her mother, Henry, Emma, perhaps even Neal. She would have never guessed it was Regina that stood beside her in an attempt to comfort her.
"Me? Make you feel worse about yourself? Trust me, Lucinda, you do that just by breathing. I don't need to be enforcing anything. People are going to hate you and make you feel horrible no matter what you do." She took a seat beside the weeping child who chuckled slightly at her words.
"Thanks for the encouragement, Regina, but I think I'll survive without it."
"I'm just being honest with you, which is the exact opposite of how your parents seem to be." She did have somewhat of a point.
"They don't lie. They just don't tell me everything," Lucinda mumbled as she wiped away some of her tears with her fingers in an attempt to make herself seem like she was not crying as hard as she was. "I suppose you are going to tell me some super secret that my parents would never share?"
Regina shook her head, waving off the child's question, but no doubt, a request. "Oh, no, dear. There is no point in me going against your parents. We have had our bumpy parts during our road in the past, but there has been some good times as well. At least, before your parents met, that is. Your father and I were not always at war with each other."
"He taught you magic." Lucinda already knew that. That much was given due to Regina's similar tactics in her magic as her father's. She figured as much.
"Yes, he did. All for me to enact his curse-"
"To get to a world without magic. To get to Bae."
"Look, Lucinda, I take pity on you. I know what it's like to feel like you are not wanted anywhere you go. Like people only expect the worse from you. That is all they expect."
Lucinda looked up at Regina who kept her gaze straight ahead.
"They only expect you to do bad things because of the dark magic that is within you. Because of who your father is."
"You'd think who my mother is would matter," Lucinda mumbled and looked to her feet, not knowing that Regina's eyes had shifted to her.
"It doesn't matter. It never does. That little bit of good in you, that piece of hope that you will change, no one pays attention to that. To them, it doesn't exist. You are only your father's darkness. Nothing else."
This little talk was not helping at all, but then again, was it suppose to? Regina was never really one for words of inspiration, but she did know a lot on the subject of being rejected and not truly welcomed anywhere. Perhaps this wasn't suppose to be a talk to help her believe that things were going to get better. Perhaps this was the talk, telling her that this was reality and something like this is not ever going to change unless you make this great change. Unless she makes people believe that she is not as dark as everyone thinks she is.
"So, this isolation...this hate is never going to disappear?" she asked just to make sure she understood what Regina was saying. The woman, still dressed in black despite everything she has been through, shrugged. She locked eyes with Lucinda and felt the little girl's pain. She knew all too well the feeling this poor child was going through. The sad part was, her heart was still pure. She did not make herself evil, she did not change her title. People had stamped her with this curse for their own dislike for her father. It wasn't fair. Regina draped her arm around Lucinda's shoulders, pulling her close to her and patting her head with a gentle hand. "I know it is not fair to you, Lucinda, but that is how the world works, unfortunately. Don't worry though, sweet Lucinda, you still have me. I'm not going to judge you because I understand what you are going through. I understand it better than anyone. I'm probably the only one that ever will."
Fairytale Land of the Past
Pull!
She must if she is going to please her master. If she is going to be spared the beating of her father's words of what a failure she is. To escape this poor life that she was forced to call her own. She had to pull this cart of wool back to their small farm, their tiny shack that they considered home. She had to pull, and yet she struggled to.
Sweet dripped from her brow and her hair clung to her face like bloodsucking leeches. Just a few more miles and she would be home. Miles? Yes, miles. Just how many more, she could not count, but even one would be too many. Her feet were beginning to blister and puss seeped out of her already cracking heels. She wanted to rest, but she could not stop now. Not when she was so close. Just a little further.
So she pushed on, or rather pulled on, trying to ignore the steady rays illuminating from the sun, making the heat rise even higher, burning her to some extent. Her back ached and her spine felt like it was one big knot twisted in all different directions. Walking became a chore that no one should be used to in such a way. She collapsed onto her bum, unable to haul the cart any further.
She thought about what it would be like once she got home, once she reached her wooden hut only made from boards. What could they possibly be having for dinner tonight? Bread? Soup? Nothing fancy. No meat, no vegetables. Those all went to the market to try and sell to make some money to get whatever scraps they could get together for what they needed to survive. It stung-her life. She hated it and it hurt more than she could imagine it ever could. She let a tear fall from her eye. She wept.
"Oh dear child, please don't cry," a whisper spoke into her ear. She looked around and so no one near her, no one in sight. Who could have spoken? Maybe she only heard the wind and she thought someone was reaching out to her. However, she soon heard the voice again. "Up here, my darling," the voice said and the girl shot her head up to the woman sitting in her cart.
"That is an abundance in wool, don't you think?" the woman asked as the girl scampered to her feet. "Who are you?" she asked in fear, slightly worried that this woman may try to harm her or perhaps steal the cart. How far was she going to go with this heavy cart of wool? Why would she desire it? "No need to fear me, sweet child. I am only here to help. My name is Gretchen and I have come to you by the sound of your fallen tears." The blond haired beauty made it down the side of the cart, landing swiftly onto her feet.
"Are you, like a fairy?" the child asked Gretchen chuckled. "Not particularly, no. I consider myself more of an enchantress, if you will. I have come into a great amount of magic, and I am here to offer you my assistance with a rather serious problem." The girl examined this 'enchantress' from head to toe, trying to decipher why she was wearing the clothes she was wearing if she was so magical. "Why are you dressed in rags if you are an enchantress?" the girl asked. Gretchen leaned forward and smiled. "To blend in at the market place," she winked and with a whisk of her wrist, her old rags transformed into a stunning green attire. A slim dress that complimented her figure, showing off her bountiful curves and her hair fell delicately to her shoulders in large waves of volume. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds and she contained the best smile the girl had ever seen.
"You are an enchantress, and you're here to help me?" the girl questioned with excitement. Gretchen nodded and smiled with the same joy as the child. "That's right, my dear. I will help you." The little one jumped up and down with joy and glee, ready for the magic to take control of her, for her life to improve now that she has been given this wonderful wielder of magic. "Can you turn my house into a palace, give me ball gowns, gold, jewels-"
"Woah, slow down, child. There is some matter discussion that obviously needs to take place first. I can't give you all that stuff. It would not be fair to those who already have it or desire it just as much as you do. However, I will help you. Trust me." The child's happiness seemed to fade in those few statements. Gretchen could see that it was every little girl's dream to become a princess and she would be able to remember the day clearly when a little girl who was born into royalty would despise it. That has not happened yet. "Tell you what, you will never have to pull this cart again," Gretchen continued. "I will grant your family a horse to pull it for you, and, for your troubles of the day, I am going to give you this." Gretchen handed the girl a silver coin with a fairy engraved on one side and the symbol of magic on the other. "Keep that close and you know someone will always be looking out for you," Gretchen told her. "Enjoy your new horse."
With a flicker of green light, Gretchen had vanished and attached to the cart was a tall and sturdy brown stallion, ready to pull away at the heavy cart. She tucked the coin away in her dress pocket and grabbed ahold of the horse's reins, pulling the stallion forward, nearly skipping as she did so.
Fairytale Land of the Present
Back on the roof to count the stars as they twinkled and shinned, not having looked to her father once she got home and the carriage ride back between her and her mother in total and utter complete silence. No words were meant to be spoken because, in truth, there were no words the other could think to say. Things were difficult. Time was difficult. Lucinda was difficult. Nevertheless, she found some peace and comfort in this place-where time seemed to stand still and she had millions and billions of friends who listened to her no matter what she had to say, and the best part was they could not talk back.
She kept thinking about what Regina had said, about her always being seen as dark. She began to question her purpose, her powers and even her life. She resented the fact that when she was conceived her father was still under that curse, passing his powers onto her. She didn't want them. She couldn't control them. Was it at all possible for her to just get rid of them? She would have given anything to be like any normal person. To live in the front lands like Bae once did, to be ordinary, to hold no magical abilities like so many she knew did not. She didn't even want to be a princess, though it was clear that she would not survive that long outside of the palace. Everything was handed to her and that was just the way she liked it. She had no idea just how much work being like everyone else required, and that she was simply not cut out for the job.
"How many did you count?" he asked and she sighed. "I gave up counting a long time ago. Now I just sit and stare." He took a seat beside her, looking up at the same sky she gazed upon, the same diamonds that gave off their beautiful light. "1,036 glasses, two days worth of food, 28 injuries and climbing, and two ruined sets of curtains." He had been keeping track. "And you dropped the cake." Good track, too. "I am trying to forget it," she said, bringing her knees closer into her chest. "That's what spinning is for, not staring off into space. That party disaster is not the only thing on your mind, so what else is? What else is bothering you?"
She did not know how the two subjects were linked together, but when she thought of the birthday celebration that she had ruined, she thought of her own that was coming up soon. Her sixteenth birthday. The birthday were her arranged marriage was officially beginning. The day she would be forced to dance with every eligible prince or lord and forced to pick one amongst the many that would be there. She had to dance, talk, eat and laugh with all of them. If she messed up this birthday that badly, she could only imagine how her own was going to go.
"I want what any girl wants. To live happily ever after," she said, not even facing him, but she knew the expression he wore. One that would appear to be annoyance to anyone else when, in fact, all it was was the greatest amount of concern for his daughter. "I know, Lucinda. I know. But you know the Law. It is not mine or your mother's doing. It's Parliament's." She had heard this excuse so many times before, she did not want to keep hearing it again. Her parent's were like broken records. "I know, daddy, but just for once I would like to hear something different other than 'Your mother and I are doing everything we can to get you out of this.' I want to see some action. Something happen. You can't even delay this damn thing. I want no part in it."
He sighed, unsure of what to do or how to speak. Bae was never this difficult, but perhaps for certain reasons. After all, Bae was no princess being forced to undergo an arranged marriage. Raising a girl was very different from raising a boy. "I know it is hard to see the progress we made with this, Lucinda, but you just have to trust me."
"You are the Dark One. I am pretty sure you can do something about this. Threaten them. Use some evil spell on them. Brainwash them. Or even threaten to turn their wives and children into flies. Just get me out of this marriage." She was becoming desperate.
"Sweetheart, I can't do that and you know I can't. I can never go back to my old ways. It cost me your brother, it nearly cost me your mother, I don't want to lose you, too." His voice cracked, he was going to cry. Her father sobbing always made her weak. "Just give me some time, Lucinda. That is all I need."
She wasn't going to back down just because her father was becoming emotional because of the man he once was. She wasn't going to give in. "I am running out of time, dad. I'll be sixteen in nearly a week. I only have two more years after that and it took you nearly sixteen years to get barely anywhere. I don't need time and trust. I need results. I don't want to marry some man just because I am forced to."
"Your mother did not wish to go with me, but she did it for good reason," he explained.
"What?"
Uh-oh. He let something slip. He bit his tongue harshly and looked away from her, hoping she would not read his expression.
"Your marriage to mom was arranged?"
"Not exactly," he muttered under his breath.
"You two were arranged? But I thought you said you came from nothing. Why would grandfather marry Belle off to some spinner?" She was growing angrier, her voice raising.
"Lucinda, please, lower your voice," her father tried to sooth the wound he had opened, but Lucinda was not backing down. Both had darkness running within them. He had learned to control it, Lucinda had no say in what it chose to do and what it didn't choose to do. It was showing. She was changing.
"No! You guys never tell me anything! Nothing!" She stood up, and her usually curly hair filled with volume and color began to grow just flat out crazy, sprouting in all different directions and even some gray forming within it. "All you guys ever do is tell me what to do and what not to do," she went on as she began to pace, her pajama pants flapping as a gust of wind came, pushing back her hair...showing her father her eyes.
"Lucinda, please, calm down," he begged, standing up and trying to calm her. Attempting to place his hands on her shoulders, but she swatted them away.
"No! You try to make me be like mom! To be like you! To be kind and gentle and put everybody before myself! To make sure everyone except me is happy! Because it is my duty to my kingdom, to my people, to everyone! And yet, no one wants me to help! No one wants me around! No one wants me! No one loves me! They all hate me! Calling me dark! Calling me evil! They tag me like they know me! They judge me before the know me! They don't give a damn about me, so why should I help them?"
Her nails grew several inches, blackening as they went. Her teeth sharpened to a harsh point, making her gums bleed just a hint. They thickened, yellowed and cracked. Some crossed each other, some twisted in unnatural directions. Her green eyes transformed themselves. From their normal forest green to a New York City color green, expanding, filling up nearly her entire eyeball.
"Lucinda, listen to me," he begged, still making his unsuccessful attempts at calming his daughter. Where was Belle when he needed her. Surly she would have been able to sooth her with just a few words. Belle always knew the right things to say. This has happened several times before, but Belle always managed to stop the progression before Lucinda could even notice the transformation was taking place. Now, it seemed too far along to stop, and yet, he still tried.
"I don't want to be like you and mom if no one wants me to be like you and mom! I will never be like you!" she growled, fire burning ablaze.
"Lucinda, stop!" He shouted as loud as he could, but it didn't seem to be enough.
"I'd rather die than be like you!"
She punched him. Right square in the nose. She got a good sock at him, too. POW! His head turned all the way to his right, as if he was looking over his shoulder. His nose was actually dripping just a small stream of blood from one nostril. He looked to his daughter, who had rage built onto her face, breathing harshly.
But then she was him. She saw what she had done, the burn in her knuckles all too real, her father's nose...broken. He placed his hand upon it, cracking it back into place with his magic, fixing it in a second, the blood no longer there. Her eyes grew wide with her own astonishment. Did she really just punch her father? Physically hurt her father? On purpose? She had never lost such control like that before. She never was so violent. The strangest thing about the whole encounter was her father did not seem made nor did he appear to be hurt. He appeared to be over the top nervous. Like the biggest secret to have ever been kept hidden from her was finally revealed. "Lucinda," he whispered, and she felt it. The change. She looked down.
The sight made her want to scream, made her not believe her own eyes. Her pale fair skin was gone. Replaced by, what seemed to be, a gray scaly coat of something that looked like the sheddings of a lizard. Her nails were several inches long and as dark as the magic within her. She was confused, unable to comprehend how such changes were happening to her.
She ran.
She ran down the stone steps, tripping and tumbling down the last few, but that was the strange thing. She felt no pain. Not a single ounce of it. So, she just picked herself up and ran off, past the hundreds of doors in the castle, down the golden corridors, tears gliding across her face because of how fast she was running. She never ran this fast before. Everything seemed to be out of shape and out of line. The halls spinning, the pictures's eyes following her every move, the lights dimming then glowing too bright for her eyes. She shielded them with her hands for just a moment as she raced towards the only mirror she knew for sure was open.
She didn't even have to push open her chamber doors, they opened on their own, allowing her entrance to her one sanctuary. "Lucinda," she could hear her father's voice calling out to her, a large blanket falling over her mirror before she could even have a look at it. Some force shut the large doors, obstructing the path into her room. She tugged harshly on the blanket, just as hard as Belle had tugged on the drapes once before, and because of how hard she pulled she fell on her bottom. The blanket fell on top of her, plummeting her into darkness. Lucinda pushed the blanket off of her, scrambling with both arms and legs to get it off, just to look in the damn mirror. The blanket was nearly thrown halfway across the room as Lucinda scrambled to her feet.
She forced herself up and her whole body shook with shivers by the cold hands of fear gripping at her, pulling her down into someplace cold, where no one has ever escaped. She touched her face, feeling to see if such a face was real, gripping her hair, clawing at her own skin, making her face ooze with the red thick liquid within her that was her blood. Her claws, no longer nails, damaging their own flesh, but it did not look like flesh at all. So this is what darkness did to those with even good intentions, with true hearts? This was how ugly temptation and corruption could make you be? This beastly?
She let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Fairytale Land of the Past
It felt good to help people, and Gretchen rather enjoyed it. She went about from day in and day out solving people's problems by granting them just the simple things. All she required in return was a thank you and then she would whisk herself away with a cloud of green smoke, watching the no longer troubled souls go about the rest of their day more happily. She smiled to herself and her kindness, proving to everyone that absolute power did not corrupt those with kind hearts and pure souls. She believed she was one of those, and her good deeds seemed to be more than enough proof.
Today, however, was a day of peace. Relaxing in an apple tree and picking off some of the sweetest fruit she has ever tasted. With one arm draped behind her head, acting as a pillow, and her legs crossed, she bit into the juicy, sweet fruit, savoring the great bite she took from it. This was calming, just herself and this fresh breeze that rolled on by. Oh, how wonderful it all was to her. This was more than she could have asked for. Just a little trade made and now she was quite possibly the happiest woman alive. She did miss Todd from time to time, but it was not something she could not do without.
"You are very gentle with your powers," spoke a tiny and rather frail voice. "How ever did you come to acquire them?" Gretchen looked over and spotted a tiny fairy dressed in blue fluttering next to her. She smiled, swallowing the chuck of apple she had in her mouth. "Well, they were sort of a gift, really," she tried her best to explain. "I see," said the blue fairy, not sure what to make of that tale. "What possesses you to be so kind?" she asked next and Gretchen became more attentive in the question and answer portion of this conversation. "Well, I know what it is like to live with not much. Not much, at all. I don't think anyone should have to suffer through it. It just doesn't seem right."
The blue fairy smiled at Gretchen's response, debating secretly if doing what she was planning on doing was the right course of action. "How about another gift for you, my dear? What is your name?"
"Gretchen."
"Gretchen, how would you like to become a fairy?" This was big. Huge. Gretchen sat up straight and tall, gripping the edge of the branch in which she sat on. "Are you serious?" she asked the blue fairy, unable to truly be sure that this request was being made. "One hundred percent. You are very handy with your powers, Gretchen. Not a lot of people are. It would be nice to have another one like you in these forests." This got her mind, just slightly, a bit slanted. "I'm sorry, I am confused. Another one? How many are there?"
The blue fairy gave a little giggle before explaining herself. "Dear Gretchen, I meant would you like to become a fairy godmother? You would be summoned by the tears of those who are in need of your help. You will be able to grant them wishes and be appointed your very own set of wings and magic wand. What do you say?"
A fairy godmother? Not just some ordinary fairy, but one with a much more greater purpose in her own opinion. A fairy godmother! Something she always desired, but never could receive. She would want nothing more.
"Yes, I'll do it! A thousand times, yes! I would love to!" The excitement grew within her like a young child on their birthday, just anticipating the cake and presents. This was a dream come true. Trading Todd defiantly became worth it all.
The blue fairy smiled and with a single wave of her wand, Gretchen found herself with her feet on the ground and a set of wings attached to her back. Her dress been covered in a sparkle design, making her look like a queen. Her blond hair was separated into layers by a single ponytail, and glitter covered the tops of her eyelids, bringing out the true beauty in her face. She looked down to her hand and resting within her palm was a solid wand. A slim silver wand that shimmered in the light, proving that magic rested within it. Pure magic. Power to her seemed to be ten times stronger, and she was loving every minute of it.
"There," the blue fairy smiled at her own crafty work. "You're ready." Gretchen gave herself a little twirl, trying to admire herself from all angles, but it was just too hard to capture every detail. Every time she looked, there was another new thing about her that was oh so surprising. This was so great. "Now, don't forget, Gretchen, that your job is to help all of those who are in need of it. The saddest souls. The most desperate. You must vow to only protect and to do good with your magic. Do you understand?"
Gretchen nodded enthusiastically as she gripped her wand tighter and fluttered her wings just a bit. "Yes, I understand and I vow to do as such." She was not at all nervous of her duties, but rather overly proud and anxious. She just couldn't wait to get started.
That's it for now. Don't forget to check out my other story, Trickster and to spread the word. Thanks again.