Disclaimer: I do not own The 10th Kingdom. This is merely a fanfiction.

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"I think we outran him!"

Bluebell was doubled over panting. He and Blabberwort had retreated to the cemetery and the two trolls needed a moment to catch their breath. The rain continued to pour down on them. The sun had long set and the surrounding lands were silent. Their allies had retreated further into the vales and surrounding woods, following by their enemies. For now – it was just the two of them.

Or so they thought.

Mother Holle was sitting on a gravestone puffing her pipe. Bluebell pointed at her. "Look – it's the old broad!"

Blabberwort limped over to her. "What are you doing here, old woman?"

Mother Holle continued to puff her pipe. "He will come …"

The troll siblings shared nervous glances. "The Lord Protector …?" Bluebell asked.

The kindly crone exhaled a smoke ring. "He is already here … you are no match. Flee." Her arm rose and extended a gnarled finger. Blabberwort followed – there was the Traveling Mirror still standing there. "You must go through the mirror."

"Where will it take us?" Blabberwort demanded.

"There is no time! He is already ascending the hill! Go!"

"It'll take us to the Snow Queen's palace …" Bluebell muttered.

"Perhaps," Mother Holle corrected. "But the Devil's Mirror has been confused as of late with so many people going in and out. Perhaps it will take you to the Mirror World. But nevertheless – you must go before you run out of time!"

"They already have!"

Behind them, Wallace appeared in the cemetery, a sword-slice running down his face, his one eye fused shut. His red cape was torn and tattered but he held his weapons tightly in his hands.

Blabberwort and Bluebell trembled from exhaustion. Their weapons shook in their hands. They needed rest … they couldn't handle another bout of fighting.

Mother Holle continued to sit there, puffing smoke circles into the sky.

"Come now," Wallace gloated, circling the trolls. "You can't tell me you're exhausted already?! And here I was hoping I would break a sweat …"

Mother Holle tapped her pipe on a rock. Wallace turned his head at the sound. "You …" he muttered.

"Me. We all've gotta be somebody, don't we?" she asked.

"You're the one who's been helping Miss Lewis this whole time! You … I should destroy you!"

"You may try, if you think you have the pow'r."

"I have more than power!" He raised his axe and brought it down – it was met with Blabberwort's sword.

"You will not touch her," the she-troll growled as she shoved the Lord Protector back. Wallace spun – Bluebell took the moment's distraction to leap from off a boulder and sink his dagger into Wallace's shoulder. He screamed, yanking the blade out, hurling it at Bluebell. It missed his face by centimeters, embedding itself in a dead tree.

Blabberwort growled as she leapt after the Lord Protector, tackling him to the ground. The two rolled amidst the headstones – Wallace pinned her down and bashed her head with his own. Blabberwort groaned, seeing stars.

Wallace staggered to his feet – unsteady. The Traveling Mirror was behind him. He turned – Bluebell was charging, sword raised. Wallace parried – Blabberwort kicked out with her legs, striking him in the ankle. He cried out as Bluebell crashed into him with his shoulder. Wallace went flying backwards, vanishing through the liquid-like glass of the Traveling Mirror.

For a moment there was silence.

Blabberwort and Bluebell stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the mirror and the now empty space where the Lord Protector had been standing only a moment ago.

Wallace's arms materialized through the mirror, grasping the trolls by their arms, then yanking them through the mirror with him into the Mirror World. His cackled keened through the night.

Mother Holle's legs creaked as he rose to her feet and hobbled over to the Traveling Mirror. She tapped its frame with her walking stick before she stepped through it after them.

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Blabberwort landed on all fours, sweat dripping onto – nothing? She looked around. All she could see was white as far as the eye could see. Bluebell was next to her. And – in the same amazement – Wallace took in this scenery.

"Where the bloody hell are we?" he demanded.

"How the heck should we know?" Bluebell groused. "If you hadn't gotten your filthy mitts on us -."

"You are in the Mirror World." Mother Holle had appeared behind them.

"What trickery is this?" Wallace demanded.

"It is no trickery. The Snow Queen has linked the Devil's Mirror to all magical mirrors in the land. We are in the Mirror World now – the limbo where the souls taken by the Devil's Mirror remain. And … it makes us relive the past. The present. And … the future."

Wallace gripped his axe tightly. "I have had enough of your tricks, old woman! I will destroy you!" He raised his blade again – it was met by a ghostly white sword. Wallace's eyes widened as the ghostly white image of Lord DeConte parried his blow.

"DeConte's soul was not taken by the Mirror!" Wallace snarled, staring in horror at his old mentor and pawn.

Mother Holle continued to puff. "No. It is not his soul – the Mirror forces us to relive our memories. You for instance. And as the past can destroy us, those memories can also cause us harm."

Wallace cried out as the phantom DeConte scored a glancing blow on his shoulder. The Lord Protector snarled, hammering away with his axe. "I killed the real DeConte – I can destroy his memory." He sliced through the phantom's waist. The wraith vanished away into nothingness as Wallace stepped through it, walking deliberately for Mother Holle. "It will take more than specters to save you!"

"You may destroy your past," she chided. "But doin' so will only cause you more pain …"

"My life is pain, Old Woman," he growled. "It will take more than that to stop me!"

Behind Wallace, the phantasm of Viscount Lansky thrust his sword through his shoulder blade. Wallace screamed, spinning, cleaving the phantom through with his axe. Lansky's phantom stared coldly at him, his piercing eyes staring into his soul, before he too vanished into the ether.

"Your life was filled with pain, that is true," Mother Holle agreed, leaning on her stick. "But it was all of your ownchoosing …"

Gerda's former husband dropped from nowhere, a sword raised. Wallace's eyes widened in horror – Gerda's husband's were filled with rage. Their swords clanged – Wallace raised his axe. Gerda's husband got beneath his guard and brought his blade up – slicing through the handle of the axe. The axe head went sailing through the air, landing and lodging itself at Bluebell's feet. He jumped back nearly a yard and stared at his sister. She had the same look of utter confusion on her face.

Gerda's husband rose – he and Wallace dueled now with swords as their surroundings changed, morphing into a beautiful wedding hall – filled with dead guests.

"Where are we?" Wallace demanded through gritted teeth.

"Your mind," Mother Holle said. "The Mirror World shows you the deepest recesses of your subconscious." She stared at the bodies and the flowing, poisoned wine dripping from goblets and flooding the floor like blood. "And you are even more twisted in here than you are on the outside."

Wallace scored a lucky shot, punching the phantom of Gerda's husband in the face, before thrusting him through the belly with his sword. Like the others, the rival for Gerda's heart vanished upon his sword. Wallace sneered. "Well – that felt good."

He stopped as he felt something at his feet. He glanced down –

Gerda's corpse lay at his feet, the poisoned goblet lying near her head. Wallace gasped. "Gerda …"

The two trolls and Mother Holle watched as the Lord Protector's whole demeanor changed. The anger and hate on his face melted, giving way to grief and pain. He sunk to his knees, cradling her head on his lap as he did once before in this place so very long ago. He wrapped his arms around her and cried out to the night as he rocked her limp body.

"Your life is pain," Mother Holle told him, "because you chose it to be …"

Wallace's eyes locked with hers. The trolls were shocked to see tears in them. "I never chose this …"

"You've chosen it your whole life. You chose selfishness. Cruelty. Revenge. Murder. Fate just so happened to place Gerda in your blood-soaked path. You killed her through your selfishness. Always and only thinking of yourself. Hiding from compassion. Rejecting forgiveness! Running from the truth!"

Wallace kissed Gerda's forehead, before he gently placed her head back down on the stone floor and rose to his feet. "And what truth would that be, wretch?"

Mother Holle pointed her cane at him. "That life isn't always what you want it to be! That sometimes the Happily Ever After isn't what you expect or thought! That you can't force fate to bend to your will, to make your story the way you want it to be! And yet – in your arrogance – you thought you could! You thought to murder her husband and the entire wedding party! But then what? Did you even think it through?! Suppose Gerda had not drunk the poison that night! Suppose everyone else had died but her! Would she have wanted you?"

Wallace's fists were balled and his teeth were clenched. "You will be silent …"

"You couldn't accept that she didn't love you! That she had the right to choose her own heart! That she was her own person! That there was never such a thing – not even as children – as 'Gerda and Kay.' That it was always Gerda. And Kay. Two separate people with two separate feelings, thoughts, experiences, motives –"

"You will be silent!"

"She did not love you! And even had she survived and been left with only you to comfort her – she would not have fallen into your arms! She would have moved on, to be sure – but not with you …"

"I said – SILENCE!" Wallace raised his sword.

Gerda's hand lashed out from the floor, gripping his ankle. Wallace gasped as the corpse of Gerda rose to her feet, her blank eyes staring at him. "Kay" she breathed.

Wallace backed away in horror. "No! No, no, it's not you! I killed you!"

"You killed me," she agreed. "Because I didn't love you. Because if you couldn't have me, no one could."

"No," he pleaded. "No – Gerda, you have to understand! I never intended to hurt you! Just everyone else –" He stopped himself, his hand going to his mouth.

"Then why am I like this? Why am I here?"

"Where, Gerda? Please, where?"

Their surroundings spun around them. They were no longer in the wedding hall. They were in a crypt. And – on bier – lay a coffin. Gerda's coffin.

"You put me there."

"I'm sorry! Please – I never meant for it to happen!" He gripped her shoulders. "I only wanted – I … I love you!Gerda please understand – I love you! I always have! I always will! Please – forgive me!" Tears ran down his face. "Forgive me …"

Gerda reached up with hand – it was bony. The skin was dissolving from her body. Her skeletal hand brushed his cheek, wiping the tears from his eyes. He touched her skeleton hand, pressing it to his face, kissing it. "I'm so … so sorry …" He closed his eyes, holding her bony fingers in his own. When he opened them – Gerda's face was a skull. Her body turned to dust into his arms. "No!" He cried out. A sudden wind came, blowing the dust away, taking the phantom of Gerda far away from him. The winds of fate had blown her away from him once again. He sank to his knees, wrapping himself in his cape like a mantle. He fell to his side, crying, cocooning himself in his crimson cape. Like a child.

Blabberwort and Bluebell made to walk towards him – Mother Holle stopped them with her hand. "Wait."

Wallace was crying out to the heavens. "Gerda … Gerda … I'm sorry! Please … I didn't want this! I don't want any of this! I never wanted power or authority – I only wanted you! Oh, what have I done?! What have I done?! What have I become?! Oh forgive me – for all of it!" He cried out, covering his head with his cape, weeping on the floor.

And then the weeping changed in tone. It sounded like a smaller voice. A little voice. The form beneath the red cape appeared to shrink. The trolls watched, perplexed. Mother Holle had a knowing look on her face. She hobbled over to the red cocoon and undid it with her stick.

Lying there, where the Lord Protector had been a moment ago, was a little boy. A little boy who was sobbing inconsolably. Mother Holle knelt down and touched his shoulder. The little boy started, before gripping her hand and looking up. "I'm afraid …" he said in a little voice.

Mother Holle kindly cupped his chin. "You no longer have to be afraid, Kay."

"There's a monster," the child Kay whimpered.

"The monster is destroyed," Mother Holle comforted him. "Come." She helped Kay rise to his feet. She kicked the red cape and the armor which lay on the ground aside as he limped forward. He seemed unsteady on his feet.

"The last thing I remember was grandmama and papa and …"

"Yes," the old woman replied kindly. "There is much you have forgotten. But now … now it is time. Time for you to finally come home." She pointed with her cane. They were no longer in a mausoleum. They were back in the white void of the Mirror World. An outline of a mirror appeared. Kay narrowed his eyes – on the other side of the mirror he could see an old cottage in the woods and his adopted grandmama and father. They were calling out to him.

"Kay! Kay?!"

Then another voice. The voice of a little girl. "Kay!"

"Gerda?" he asked.

Through the outline of the mirror he could see a little girl, no older than him. His eyes beamed. "Gerda!"

"Go to her. Be with your family again," Mother Holle said. "And though you have forgotten much – never forget she is like a sister to you. Be happy and content with that."

On the other side, the young Gerda reached out a hand for him. He took a look at Mother Holle, unsure of himself. Then, unsteady on his own feet, he wobbled through the mirror, taking Gerda's hand. She giggled. "Where have you been all this time …?"

He held a hand to his head. "I … I don't remember …"

"Well come – supper's on and later we can run through the woods and play with the crayfish that like to come up after the afternoon rains!"

Kay smiled as he stepped through the mirror. He spared one last glance at Mother Holle – not remembering who she was or where he was or what he had done. All he remembered was that he was a little boy and his best friend Gerda was there, wanting to play with him. He felt as though he hadn't seen her for a lifetime. Yet he smiled all the same.

The void closed behind him.

And Lord Protector Wallace was gone.

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The two trolls stood there in the white void blinking in confusion. "What just happened?" Blabberwort asked. She glanced down at the pile of armor and the red cape that lay empty on the floor. There was something else there. "A book!" she exclaimed, picking it up. It opened up to a page in her hand – one that looked like it had never been read before. She read it aloud.

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Now Doubt – now Pain

Can never again

For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,

And all day long

Shines, bright and strong,

Astarte within the sky,

While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye –

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Bluebell scratched his head. "I don't get it. Is it over?"

Mother Holle began hobbling along on her walking stick. "No," she replied dryly. "Not yet. One thing remains …"

"The Snow Queen," Blabberwort breathed.

Mother Holle nodded. "She still remains …"