"Do not be afraid," he said, as Rapunzel quickly unwound her hair and retreated.
"Who are you?" she asked.
Taking a step forward for every step Rapunzel took back, the stranger smiled, teeth glinting like a feral animal's in the candlelight. "Prince Salimen," he
replied. "But many have called me Prince Alluring. I have come to woo you."
"Have you now?" Rapunzel looked to the window, knowing well there was no escape that would not leave her broken or dead.
"I have written you a poem." He brandished a piece of parchment from his overcoat and cleared his throat.
"That really will not be necessary," Rapunzel replied.
"So, you too feel my love?" the prince sighed.
"Your what?" Rapunzel questioned, voice squeaking from her throat.
"My love," he repeated. "I have been drawn by your song, and I intend to marry you."
"Well, as you can see," Rapunzel swept a nervous hand around the tower. "I am stuck all the way up here. But I do wish you luck in your wifely pursuits."
Trying to return the prince to the window, Rapunzel cried out as he seized her wrist and pulled her against him. "We will be married," he sneered into the
side of her face. "It is fated."
"Rapunzel," Cinderella's voice called out from below.
"Cinde... ah." Rapunzel's words were lost to the prince's hand around her throat.
"My wife," he stated. "Forever."
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair to me."
Waking abruptly, Rapunzel's eyes darted about the ceiling, finding the familiar knots of the dwarves' cabin above. The last request real, she was fairly
certain, she rolled to the loft's edge to look down at Cinderella.
"I would gladly," she returned, "but, as you know, it has been clipped. You will have to use the ladder."
When Cinderella's face changed abruptly at the response, Rapunzel knew, if she could fool anyone, it was not Cinderella.
"You had that dream again, didn't you?" she asked, and, across the room, Snow White came to attention.
"Yes," Rapunzel admitted quietly, flopping back to the blankets with a sigh.
Below the loft, she could hear Cinderella's attempt to get to her, as gems, medallions, and other assorted goods rendered the way a challenge. For days,
the great snow had buried Aulis, making it impossible for anyone to travel within the forest, with the exception of the dwarves and their snowshoes,
together doing some of their finest work.
At first, the dwarves maintained their lie, announcing each morning they were "off to the mines." Then, when they came through the door at night, lugging
sacks overflowing with stolen goods, they would say things like, "Look what we found buried at the foot of the mountain," or hold up a barrel of ale and
say, "Someone must have been up in the mine last night," until one night Cinderella grabbed an engraved silver charm from Baby G's hand and declared, "This
is the pendant of a royal army page. Careless chap that went and lost that."
"So, people like to give us things!" Esteban shouted, yanking the charm from Cinderella's hand and trudging to his bed. "I do not like her," he muttered on
the way. "She is just not to be liked."
Though some of the dwarves seemed to agree with Esteban's assessment, when they left the next morning, there was no mention of the mines.
"Blasted... mmph," Cinderella muttered, and Rapunzel sniggered lightly as Cinderella at last topped the ladder, crawling onto the blanket to sit cross-legged
beside her. "I am glad my pain can make you feel better."
"Me too," Rapunzel returned.
"What happened this time?" Cinderella questioned.
"It is always the same," Rapunzel replied. She was so tired of the stupid dream, every night the same, every night filled with threat. "It just always
feels so real."
"It is still only a dream," Cinderella whispered.
Bending down, she pressed a warm kiss to Rapunzel's shoulder, eliciting a sigh from Rapunzel, though her words were of less comfort. For, if Cinderella had
never come to Naxos, Rapunzel was sure the dream would have been her reality, and, each night when she was trapped inside it, she could feel the ache in
her throat, her life wavering, as if the dream was trying to pull her back to the tower.
"You changed my destiny," Rapunzel said quietly, watching Cinderella's green eyes darken as she glanced away.
"Is that a good or bad thing?" she quipped, but Rapunzel heard only the genuine concern in her undertone.
"Do not be silly," she answered, arms wrapping around Cinderella's waist as she buried her face in the soft fabric of her nightgown.
Cinderella's hand in her hair was hypnotic, the steady breaths that lifted her stomach a comfort against Rapunzel's ear, but the dream rising back up in
her mind to destroy the momentary serenity, an immense shudder rocked her body.
"I just cannot stop feeling..." She hesitated, arms tightening around Cinderella. "That someone is trying to change it back."
"E
nough!" the dark man shouted, though there was no one but his characters, trapped within their books, and the mice who nipped his bread to hear.
When She disappeared, yet again, this time taking the other with Her, She destroyed both his precious tales. Still, the man had been patient. He had been
forgiving. He had even, dare he think it, been impressed, for the odds were stacked heavily against Her and She had made a most dramatic escape.
He would keep it, he thought, the twist in the story, go on from there, find something else to throw at Her and see what She would do next.
Finding Her again, though, She had already done too much, for She had done the same. Once more, She invaded a world that was not Hers to manipulate, and
changed it. Already, one had thoughts she should not think, and another emotions she should not feel.
So powerful was the influence She and the other had upon his world, they had shaken the very kingdom itself.
She had forced his hand, and the dark man did not like having his hand forced. He told the stories. He wrote their endings. It was
his
power.
His
key to
immortality. He did not appreciate revisions made by someone else.
All night, he had worked on a bend in the story, and he had created a most perfect tool. It would work, he knew, for he knew Her better than anyone, and
should have anticipated She would fight for Her own way, to the death if necessary. So, he would give it to Her, Her way, Her freedom, a road to travel for
eternity, if She wished, so long as She stayed out of the stories of others.
He could only imagine, though, how She might get away next, to which land She might make Her escape, what She might damage, undo, the chaos She could
create before he caught up with Her again.
When they came for Her, they had to be able to get to Her, wherever She went, whichever story She fled to next. There could be nowhere to hide.
Bright upon the page, the kaleidoscope would be Cinderella's undoing. With a gentle breath, the dark man sent it to its work, and the shelves shook around
him as the boundaries between his kingdoms came crashing down.
L
ife with the dwarves was nothing if not consistent. Every day, Big Papa announced that Cinderella and Rapunzel needed to be gone by the time the dwarves
came back, and every evening Cinderella and Rapunzel were still there, waiting to ply Big Papa with ale and a meal surpassing any Snow White had made and
compliments about what a strong man it took to manage so many unruly friends.
Two bites into his dinner, Big Papa would relent, and Esteban would throw a fit, drinking down everything he could put his greedy hands on until he was
drunk enough to call Cinderella things so creative, Rapunzel had started writing them down in a blank book taken from the dwarves stash of goods. She
imagined some girl in a future prison, much like the one in which she spent so many years of her life, finding the journal and the same kind of escape
within it that books had always brought her.
Esteban had called Cinderella a festering trollop, a retch-toad, a satchel-choker and a sourgamp. As his insults began to make less and less sense,
Cinderella went from ignoring him to deflecting his fire, and Esteban seemed quite happy to spar with her.
"What is a retch-toad exactly?" Cinderella asked him one night.
"It is a toad that is like retch," Esteban responded with a proud smile.
"Is that it?" Cinderella queried. "That is the entire insult? A toad like a retch? That is terrible, Esteban, truly terrible. Honestly, you are much better
than this."
"Curmudgeon," he uttered.
"Now, that is just a common word," Cinderella returned. "And, honestly, more descriptive of you than me."
"Spreckle-fick?" Esteban tried in a hesitant voice.
"All right." Cinderella looked sincerely impressed. "What does that mean?"
When Esteban looked perplexed, as if the insult had no meaning at all, Cinderella shook her head in sad acceptance. "Oh, I do worry you do not know how
insults work."
With a grimace, Esteban retired to his bed to brood about it, and passed out from drink before he could come up with anything better to call her.
Perhaps engaging in a constant battle of words with a dwarf with whom one shared living quarters was unwise, it occurred to Rapunzel, but she was struck by
the way Cinderella laughed at Esteban's cracks at her. Though she had smiled often within the walls of the tower, Cinderella's laughter had been hard won,
and often came so light, it was hardly laughter at all. Rapunzel knew it was due to the fact that Cinderella's life before had so little cause for
laughter, and each time she heard Cinderella laugh in earnest at Esteban's growing frustration with her, Rapunzel felt as if they had found a place to
belong. Deep within the forests of Aulis.
It was early on the seventh morning of the kingdom's incarceration by Mother Nature that an alarmed shout woke all inhabitants of the dwarves' cabin except
for one, who was already awake and in a most panicked state.
"Ah, ah! It is coming for us!" Baby G shouted, and by the time Rapunzel became aware of the commotion, all the dwarves were standing on their beds, Baby G
jumping up and down as he pointed to the incoming flood. "Help us, help us!"
Looking beyond the railing, Snow White appeared to be in shock, and, arm wrapping around Rapunzel's back as she leaned over to see what the fuss was about,
Cinderella erupted with laughter.
"It is not funny, you rotten wench!" Esteban yelled, shaking his fist up at her.
"No," Cinderella responded, wiping tears from her cheeks. "I imagine it is not from your point of view."
Watching water rise rapidly, Rapunzel could not believe the sight. The entire cabin was awash as water poured in around the door and through the cracks in
the walls, turning the dwarves' beds into islands.
"What are you doing just lying there?" Mo grunted in frustration. "Come help us."
"Now, do you want us to help or not?" Cinderella chastised, even as she moved toward the ladder after Snow White, and Rapunzel rose to follow them.
Knee-high at the ladder's bottom, the girls looked to each other, silently deciding the best course of action. Before one could be determined, Cinderella
turned to the nearest bed, reaching out with obvious intent, and Esteban ran toward his pillow.
"I want someone else!" he shrieked, but Cinderella grabbed his shirt front and hauled him from the bed, holding him at arm's length like a smelly piece of
clothing.
Growling, Esteban tried to push her hands away.
"Oh, you want down?" Cinderella dropped her arms, and Esteban attempted to climb up her as his feet dipped into the water.
"No, no!" he shouted. "Pull me up! Pull me up!"
"I thought so," Cinderella smirked. "Now, be nice to Mama." Lifting him out of the deepening pool, she deposited him on the table, and Esteban grumbled a
series of replies at her back.
"Do you care to help?" Cinderella asked with some amusement, turning to Rapunzel and Snow White, and it prompted each to grab a dwarf, moving him from the
immediate danger zone. With another trip, the dwarves were lined up next to each other on the table, largely without incident, though Snow White did
struggle with Big Papa and Cinderella and Rapunzel had to rush to help her halfway.
"Now what?" Snow White asked no one in particular, glancing toward the door where water continued to come in at the hinges.
Wading with some concern to the window, Rapunzel pulled back the shutter, gasping at that which she saw before rushing to the door. Water splashed in at
her knees as she opened it, and the dwarves gave a chorus of shouts in response.
"Calm down," Rapunzel breathed, peering out at the dripping landscape. "It is nearly gone."
Moving aside so the others could look, a gentle breeze lifted the hair off Rapunzel's neck as she watched Cinderella come closer to see for herself.
In the night, it seemed, a strange wind had blown into Aulis, bringing with it an early thaw. The temperature turned so warm so quickly, the snow-melt had
nowhere to go but outward, filling up any space it could find. Rapunzel had read about such a thing once in a story about a witch's hut and the rat who
survived the flood while the evil witch perished.
"That is..." Snow White's voice faded as she came up behind them, eyes stuck wide as she stared upon the dawn of a sudden spring.
"Unusual?" Cinderella supplied, and Snow White mutely nodded.
The following morning, winter was no more, and the displaced water had flowed back out of the dwarves' cabin to sink into the thawing ground. The dwarves,
who could easily cross the outrageous snows, had no heart for swimming, so they stayed in, plucking urns and brooms from their spoils and piling them at
the girls' feet.