Chapter Text
Chapter One: On the Rugged Mountain
The procession making its way down the streets of Misthaven was beautiful in a macabre sort of way. It was led by chanting priests in black hooded robes swinging orbs of burning incense. Behind them, Queen Snow and King David rode in an open carriage draped in black satin and drawn by a team of chestnut horses. They were both decked in mourning clothes of black, the queen’s face covered by a lace veil. Behind them was another carriage, this one drawn by two white horses. This one was closed, dark curtains pulled shut. Yet everyone knew who was inside, dressed in the wedding gown that should have been worn in celebration. The townspeople lowered their heads as it passed, some dabbing silently at their tears. Bringing up the rear of the procession were the ladies of the court, also dressed in garments of mourning. The only sounds apart from the clip-clop of the horses and the creaking of the carriage wheels came from them: deep wails of grief accompanied at times by the warbly singing of an old folk song about a maiden wed to death himself.
At the village gates, the priests and mourning maidens abandoned the procession, standing before a throng of villagers. The silence that had fallen amongst the people remained until the royal carriages crested a hill and were no longer in sight.
On these two carriages traveled, cloaked in silence. Even the king and queen were at a loss for words to comfort one another, and their daughter had requested to be left alone for the journey.
Finally, the carriages rumbled to a stop at the top of a misty hill. It was rumored to be filled with monsters and lesser gods and goddesses whose constant turmoil created the rumblings of thunder and flashes of lightning upon its peak.
King David helped his wife down from the carriage, then went to assist his daughter. Yet the door opened before he could lend his hand, and Emma alighted on her own, her face pale yet determined, her back straight.
“Emma,” her mother said, a sob rising in her throat, “you don’t have to do this.”
The princess’s stony expression softened slightly at her mother’s tears. “Yes, I do. What is my life compared to that of our entire kingdom?”
Snow let her tears go then, clasping her daughter in a desperate embrace. David enveloped both his girls, his hand coming up to cup the back of his daughter’s head. It seemed only yesterday he was rocking her to sleep after a midnight feeding. He kissed the top of her forehead before releasing her with a trembling smile, his eyes awash with tears.
Emma clasped the pure white fabric of her gown in both fists. “You know what the oracle said. You must leave me here alone.”
Snow practically collapsed in her husband’s arms as he led her away. Emma watched both royal carriages rumble back down the hill, her courage fleeing with them. Once they were out of sight completely, she fell in a heap upon the ground. She was surprised, however, when tears didn’t come. She supposed she’d had time to accept her fate.
The mist turned to a thick fog, and she wondered if she would die quickly before seeing the monster approach. She closed her eyes and awaited her “groom.” A virginal sacrifice to sate the hunger of a beast and save a kingdom. It was an old story, wasn’t it?
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Emma had imagined many gruesome scenarios since she learned that she was destined to be the “bride” of a hideous creature. Yet in none of those tableaus had she imagined that she would get bored waiting for the damn thing to show up. Yet here she was, going out of her mind wondering how much time had passed. She curled up on the ground, using the long train of her dress as a makeshift pillow. She didn’t expect to sleep, but suddenly she was jolted awake by the hot sun on her face.
She sat up and rubbed her eyes, amazed to see the green hill, dotted with the most beautiful roses she had ever seen, and the sky bright and blue above her. The fog was rolling away, revealing such amazing beauty as it went. Then the fog revealed something even more unbelievable, and Emma’s jaw dropped.
Right before her was a huge, glittering castle. It was of white stone, with angels on every buttress and turret instead of gargoyles. Every bit of filigree and trim around its windows and doors was done in gold. Emma scrambled to her feet, in complete awe. As if the castle itself knew she was awake, its gates swung open. Emma hesitated for a moment, part of her wondering if she were still sleeping, and another part worrying that it was a trick, but a tug in her core seemed to pull her towards the castle.
She went through the open gates, marveling further at the beauty that surrounded her. A path of white marble cut through a garden filled with flowers of every hue. They seemed more vibrant than any Emma had ever seen, and butterflies and hummingbirds flitted around them by the dozens.
Just like the gates, the doors of the castle swung open of their own accord. Emma made her way up steps also of pure white marble. The marble extended into the foyer of the castle, yet as the door gently closed behind her, the feeling enveloping her was one of warmth. Despite the cool stone beneath her feet, the wooden banister of the spiral staircase was a comforting mahogany, and the plush furnishings made her long to curl up and take a nap.
“Hello?” she called out tentatively.
In response, Emma heard giggling and childlike chatter.
“You were supposed to greet her at the door!”
“Well, you were supposed to be watching from the second floor balcony.”
“Hush, both of you, you’ll scare her!”
At first, Emma couldn’t figure out where the voices were coming from. Then she noticed glittering balls of colored light bouncing and floating all around her. If the accompanying voices hadn’t sounded so delightful, she might have been frightened.
The orbs began to grow and lengthen, and Emma could make out three distinct colors: green, purple, and red. Then she was able to see wings, then the tiny creatures attached to them.
“Fairies!” Emma exclaimed with a smile.
The orbs faded, and then three young women were delicately landing upon the marble floor in front of her. The first had blonde hair like Emma’s, pulled into a loose bun on the top of her head. Her dress looked as if it were made of green leaves.
“I’m Tinkerbell,” she said with a curtsy, “and I take care of the flowers in the garden and will also be your cook.”
The second fairy had long dark hair plaited in two braids, an olive colored complexion, and large brown eyes. Her dress was made of soft deerskin dyed with indigo and decorated with intricate beading.
“I’m Tiger Lily, and we all take care of the flowers, Tink.”
Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing at the dark haired fairy’s obvious irritation with the blonde.
The red-head giggled fondly at her fellow fairies, then addressed Emma. “I am Ariel, and I am to be your chambermaid.” Then she gasped and lowered into a deep curtsy. “I mean, your majesty.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open in surprise as the other two fairies curtsied as well. “I, I don’t understand -”
“We are here to wait upon you,” Tiger Lily explained, “at our master’s command.”
“Your . . . master?”
“Of course!” Tink exclaimed, clapping her hands merrily, “You are his bride, after all.”
Dread flooded through Emma’s veins. Being sacrificed to a monster was one thing, actually being married to one was quite another. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat.
“And . . . who is your master?”
Ariel giggled, and Emma was suddenly weary of the blonde and redhead’s exuberance. At least Tiger Lily seemed more sedate.
“We can’t tell you that!” Ariel exclaimed, as if it were a silly question.
Tiger Lily reached out and grasped Emma’s hands. “You are home now, m’lady, that is all you need know. All will be provided for you; anything and everything your heart desires.”
“But,” she bit upon her lower lip, “when will I meet my . . . husband?” She tried not to choke on the word.
For the first time, Tink looked solemn. “You won’t see him much, I’m afraid. He has many responsibilities. He is away from the castle now, and he gave no word of when he would be back.”
Emma frowned and pulled her hands out of Tiger Lily’s grip. “What kind of being is he? A cyclops? A chimera? What?”
All three fairies burst into giggles - apparently Tiger Lily could be silly too - and without answering, they transformed back into pixies. They dipped and swirled as they darted around Emma’s head in a most annoying fashion.
“Whatever you wish to eat will be served in the dining hall,” Tink’s voice called out.
Emma sighed as the fairies disappeared. She hugged her middle and did a cautious turn, taking in her ornate, exquisitely lovely surroundings. Well, she was hungry, and pork chops with gravy and roasted potatoes would really hit the spot . . .
Scarcely were the thoughts formed when she smelled something delicious down the hallway at the east end of the castle. She followed it, easily finding the dining hall, spread with a feast of all her favorite foods. She wondered for a moment if it could be poisoned, but her growling stomach won out in the end and she sat down to pile her plate high.
Even captive Princesses forced into marriages with beasts had to eat, after all.
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Ariel chattered excitedly as she showed Emma around her new chambers. They were gorgeous, Emma had to admit, with a large, ornate bed surrounded by exquisite tapestries. Emma longed to draw them around her and sink into the inviting bed piled high with soft pillows.
“Now this,” Ariel said, flitting across the room, “is the master’s favorite part.”
She flung open the French doors that lead out onto a spacious balcony, but Emma latched onto a single word. Her heart plummeted, and the last thing she cared about was a balcony with a view.
“The master’s? This . . . these are his chambers?”
Ariel turned to face her, head tilted innocently. “Of course. I mean . . . they are yours now, too. Yours and his. The . . . marital suite?”
The fairy was wringing her hands now, her face slightly pale. She turned to shut the French doors and pulled yet another tapestry across it. Avoiding Emma’s gaze, she went about the room lighting several candelabra. Then she opened the wardrobe, pulled out a long satin gown and laid it out on the bed.
“So the master will be sleeping here as well? That’s what you’re saying?” Emma demanded, stepping close to Ariel.
Her maid turned slowly to face her. “Yes. I mean, he is your husband after all.”
Emma clasped her hands together as they began to shake and took in a deep breath. She would not succumb to fear now, not when her kingdom was in danger. She released the air in her lungs and tried to force her pulse to slow.
“And when shall he return?”
Ariel shook her head, a look of apology upon her face. “I’m sorry, but one can never tell.” She bit her lip for a moment, then smiled encouragingly at Emma as she grasped her hands. “You have nothing to fear, Princess, I promise you.”
Easy for a fairy to say, Emma thought dryly. She wasn’t sharing a bed with . . . whatever the master was.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Ariel asked.
“No. I just wish to be alone.”
As soon as Ariel’s footsteps faded out into the hallway, Emma sank onto the bed, finding it just as soft and inviting as she had imagined. She lay sideways, curled in on herself, eyeing the satin gown disdainfully. The cloth looked light as air and far more comfortable than the wedding gown she still wore, yet it had thin ribbons for straps and a plunging neckline, clearly a garment meant for seduction. She simply wouldn’t wear it.
Try as she might, however, she couldn’t get comfortable in her cumbersome gown. Frustrated, she leapt up and stomped over to the wardrobe. Inside, she found a collection of beautiful gowns, and in the back, a collection of nightgowns. She grumbled when she found that they were all in the same style, simply in different colors. Black, red, and pink didn’t seem any better than white, so she returned to the bed and began removing her dress. As she struggled with the corset, she wished she had asked Ariel for her help after all, but eventually she was slipping the simple satin garment over her head. It slid against her bare skin deliciously, and Emma sighed in contentment. She crossed over to the vanity and removed the crown of flowers pinned in her hair, running her fingers through her long locks.
A shiver ran down her spine as she crawled into the giant bed, pulling three of the four tapestries closed. On the open side, she kept the last candelabra burning, the encroaching darkness causing panic to crawl across her skin. She slipped beneath the covers, hoping against hope that the master wouldn’t be returning for their “wedding night.”
He didn’t even bother to see me in my wedding dress , Emma thought sarcastically to herself. She started to laugh bitterly, but then an image rose in her brain of being chased through the halls of the castle by a lust-enraged dragon or minotaur, and it turned into a hysterical half-sob.Then the blood froze in her veins at a creaking sound on the other side of the closed tapestries. Did someone just enter through the balcony doors?
The lights in the candelabra by her bed burned lower in an unnatural way, and Emma’s pulse quickened. She scrambled to the head of the bed, fisting the sheets and blankets at her chin. Was this when the monster would come? Had he been toying with her all this time?
A rush of air blew through the room, extinguishing all the light. The tapestries around the bed, which had seemed so luxurious when she first entered the chamber, now felt like heavy walls trapping her in. She held her breath, straining to hear, but it was useless against the pounding of her heart. She sensed his presence more than anything when he reached the bed, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Not that it made a difference in the pitch-black room.
“I won’t lay a hand on you.” His voice was deep, yet gentle.
Emma opened her eyes but still didn’t relax her posture. “I find that difficult to believe considering this,” she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “is our wedding night.”
She felt the bed dip and pulled her feet up hastily.
“Believe it or not, I speak the truth. You can trust me.”
Emma squinted in the darkness, trying to see his face.
“You won’t be able to see me,” he told her calmly.
“Then how can you expect me to trust you?” she shot back, unable to keep the frustration from her voice.
He surprised her by chuckling in a low, warm tone.
She licked her dry lips. “What kind of monster are you?”
“I’m not a monster,” he answered simply.
She eased forward hesitantly. “Then you’re human?”
“I . . . didn’t say that either.” She heard him pull in a deep breath. “Listen, all you need know is that you are safe and the plague that was ravishing your kingdom is over.”
Emma bit her lower lip. “But you expect something in return?”
“The only thing I ask is what you are willing to give.”
Emma fell back on her pillows in exasperation. “You speak in riddles just like the oracle!”
There was that chuckle again. “They do like to be mysterious, don’t they?”
Now that she was lounging upon her pillows, Emma released the sheets from her grip as well. “So what are we doing, exactly? You say you won’t touch me, so why are you here?”
“You are still my bride, that much is true, and like any groom, I wish to get to know you.”
“Most grooms do that before the wedding.”
He laughed again, and the sound was actually becoming relaxing. She wriggled down beneath the covers and attempted to stifle a yawn.
“You’ve had a long day,” he said gently. “How about tomorrow night you tell me a bit about yourself?”
Emma hesitated, her body tensing involuntarily. As if he could see her reaction, he hastily spoke again.
“Rest assured, I will not touch you without your consent. Ever.”
Emma swallowed, wanting to believe him, but unsure if she should. “Okay, I suppose tomorrow night we can talk. On one condition?”
He hesitated, and it sounded as if he were clearing his throat. “Within reason. That’s all I can promise you.”
“Tell me your name.”
She could literally hear his body sag in relief. And was it possible to hear someone smile?
“That is easy, love. Please call me Killian.”
“Killian,” she repeated, almost testing it on her tongue. “I like it.”
“I rather fancy it myself.” Yes, he was definitely smiling.
A pleasant breeze blew through the tapestries, and then the candles flickered back to life. Her new husband was gone.