iamacrazybagel

[iamacrazybagel]

What if I Told You Fairy Tales Were Real? - Chapter 5: Grow a Pair

"So where exactly did your mother go?"

You sat across from Raphael, holding a cup of warm tea. He had brewed some for the both of you after you said you were parched. Despite this tower only being so large, there were still nooks and crannies you hadn't explored. There was a firebrick stove and a functioning sink just past the bed. There was a wall that separated the kitchen nook from the living space. You assumed that was why you hadn't seen it before. This place was actually quite cozy. Though you didn't fancy the idea of being confined to it for twenty years like Raphael.

The tea he had brewed was very refreshing. You hadn't had anything to eat or drink since you left the dwarves' house. The warm liquid felt comforting against your throat. Raphael had promised to make you his specialty - Hazelnut Soup. He said it was perfect for any cold or flu, and it worked wonders to rid your body of its stress. You had never heard of such a concoction before, but you were excited to try it.

"She said she was going out to find a birthday present."

You brought to glass to your lips and hummed as you gulped a large swig of tea. You didn't know how, but Raphael had managed to make Heaven in a glass. The honey brought a touch of sweetness while the lemon brought a fruity taste to it. It was divine.

"A birthday present? For whom?" You tilted your head slightly, perplexed. Considering how she was raising Raphael to absolutely despise humanity, you wouldn't fathom she would have friends herself. She most likely had been betrayed or abused in the past. You didn't want to assume as much, you didn't know the woman. But you wagered that there was a reason for her keeping Raphael up here, alone. If she was this dead-set on antagonizing her own species, there had to be some sort of trauma there, right?

Raphael cleared his throat as he set his glass down. "Oh, for me."

He appeared a bit bashful at his words. You weren't entirely sure what that meant. Was he embarrassed that it was his birthday? Was he embarrassed by admitting so? You would have to spend this time alone with him to understand how he worked.

You had sent Fae on her way hours ago. You knew she didn't intend on backing out. She didn't know where the satchel was, and if she attempted to hurt you or Raphael, she'd never know. She was stuck, and it was almost laughable. However she was serious. She was a no-nonsense gal, and you could respect that about her. She got to the point and did what she had to do. You still wondered what her intentions with the crown were. Though you knew you weren't nearly as close enough to ask her such a question. Besides, if you had, she most likely would've just spat on you again. She would not give you the answer you wanted. It was really none of your concern what she intended to do with the crown. It didn't interfere with your plans, so it wasn't a priority. Though you were curious.

"When's your birthday?" you asked as you took another sip from your cup. You'd probably kill someone over this tea. You refused to let it go. Perhaps it was just the fact that you hadn't had a drop of water in over two days, but you felt like this tea was the answer to all of life's problems. You eyed Raphael as you rose from his seat. Had he finished his glass?

"In just a few days. I'll be turning twenty one."

You hummed as he took his glass and disappeared behind you. He would be twenty one. He looked a bit young to be twenty one. You noticed his hair trailing along the floor. Your lips tugged in a grimace. How was his hair so long? Wasn't it a pain to maintain? How did he keep it so clean and healthy? It was so long you couldn't find the end! Didn't it get dirty just being on the floor like that? Did it ever get caught in between furniture? You had so many questions. There were so many mysteries of this world. You wondered if at one point you had any of these abilities. The concept of magic and spells was so foreign to you, but why? It didn't make sense. Why did magic exist? Did you have any? Where were you from? Did your family have magic? Who lived in that cottage? You decided to not dwell on it further, it wasn't doing your head any favors.

"Are you ready for some soup?" you heard from the kitchen area. You called back with a yes and sat your drink onto the table next to you. You brushed past some loose hairs and noted you still needed a shower. You wondered where Raphael washed up. Surely there was a bathroom somewhere. You weren't sure how many other crevices there were to explore, but a washroom had to be in one of them.

"Hey, uh...Raphael?" You shifted up from your seat and made for the kitchen. He called back to you. Your eyes trailed along the small space as you stepped in. A small overhead light shined atop Raphael who was filling some water in a pot. A shelf adorned the wall to the left and was stuffed with canned goods, bags of food and perishables. The floor was a bit dirty and a few dishes were placed in the sink  along the counter. The space was a bit smothering, but Raphael seemed to fit in quite nicely. He looked to you quizzically. You cleared your throat.

"Where's the washroom? I'd like to wash this grime off of me before we eat."

He hummed and pointed just past you. There was an entrance to a small room past some draped purple curtains. It was pitch black inside the small space. You gave a nod and walked over to the entrance. You felt a bit exposed only having a curtain separating you and the male. The kitchen faced direction adjacent to the washroom. One swift breeze and Raphael could possibly peek in on you. You knew he wouldn't do so though. He was a golden boy through and through. He was scared of his own mother. He wouldn't dare to sneak a peek at you.

You pulled back the thick curtain and pulled the overhead lamp on. How was there electricity in this tower? The dwarves hadn't even had such a luxury. Perhaps it was solar power? Perhaps it was mechanically driven? Whatever the case, you were grateful for the brightness. You could now see a sink directly across from you, a large mirror above it. A decent sized, framed hole lied on the floor off to the left. You assumed that was the toilet. To the right was the shining star of this room - the shower. A small, thin curtail framed its entrance. You wasted no time in pulling it back and turning the water on.

You peeled away your garments and took a look at your body in the mirror. You eyed the spot on your chest where that old hag had torn through you, gliding your hand across the flawless patch of skin. It felt...normal. It felt like nothing had happened. You felt no pain when pushing onto the skin. But the memory would never fade.

Your skin was dirty. Some bits of dried blood still stuck onto your frame and dirt was caked into your many crevices. You also weren't visually appealing. Your body was worn out and though you had some meat on you, it was showing that you hadn't been eating well. You grimaced at the sight. You ran a hand through your hair, noting its oily and dry state. You were ready to be clean. Just feeling the warmth of the steaming water sent chills along your skin.

You sighed as you stepped into the line of beaming water. The rushing liquid felt so soothing against your body. You stood there for a solid minute, basking in the enthralling heat. You ran your hands through your hair, allowing the water to embed itself into your scalp. It was pure bliss.

You allowed your body to instantly relax and let your thoughts drift as you washed yourself. You would regain your memories, you had to. You were on this journey to find yourself, and you weren't going to let all of this set you back. You were sure Fae would return with information on the dwarves and Nival. Nival hadn't found you yet. That was promising in and of itself. You had to see the positive side to all of this.

Fae would return and she would take you to Corona.

You intended on setting out for Corona since it was the nearest civilization and she seemed well versed in its navigation. You weren't sure if you would find any answers there, but you had to try.

You'd be sad leaving Raphael. He had been quite generous and kind. You sincerely wished the best for him. He needed to grow away from his mother. She seemed controlling and manipulative. It really wasn't your business, but you hated leaving someone in a rough position. Why else would you send Fae out to check on the dwarves? Raphael was no different.

You rinsed the soap from your body and let the warm water beat down on you for a few more minutes. You really didn't want to leave this heavenly sauna. But you needed to get some food in your system. You swiftly turned the water off and stepped out of the shower and took the hanging towel to dry yourself with. You felt so clean. You almost felt as if you were glowing. Your face felt smooth and fresh. Your hair, damp with water was now soft and ran smoothly through your fingers. You breathed a sigh of relief.

After drying yourself off you pulled your clothes back on. They weren't dirtied so reusing them was alright. Aside from that, they weren't yours. Raphael couldn't just spare all of his prized possessions he had spent precious time on to clothe you.

You did a once-over in the mirror and finally felt satisfied with your reflection.

You pushed past the hefty curtain and made your appearance known to the man in the kitchen. "Thanks for letting me shower. I feel so much better," you said as you walked into the nook. Raphael glanced your way and a look of surprise crossed his face. You furrowed your brows at his shock.

"You look different from before! I suppose it's the shine in your skin, but you look...better."

You weren't sure how to take that statement. Was he attempting to compliment you? If he was he needed to improve on his social skills. That could've been taken as a direct hit to your image.

"Um...thanks." You decided to cut it short and instead asked about the soup. By now the scent of nutmeg and salt had wafted through the air. It smelled divine. Your stomach growled. Raphael let out a chuckle.

"The soup's almost finished," he said as he went to stir the concoction in the metal pot. You peered inside and found a mesh of boiled hazelnuts, parsley and chicken broth. You couldn't wait to eat.

"I'll go and sit down then."

You pulled away from the steaming stove top and backed out of the kitchen area. This tower really was amazing. It had everything you needed to live - running water, electricity, plumbing, the works! Though the upper part of the house was so clean and maintained, it made you wonder about the staircase below. There was no light and it was filth ridden. It didn't smell particularly pleasant either. It was as if Raphael nor his mother ever went down there. You knew Raphael never left his room, however his mom often left the tower. You wondered why she left the bottom half in such disarray.

You made your way back to your seat and fell back into the plush love seat. You felt so much better after getting a shower. And now that you were about to eat, you felt like a spoiled child having a good day. You really did appreciate Raphael's kindness. You wished there was something you could offer in return. However all you had was your person. You, unlike a certain brunette, had come here without any treasures to speak of. You thought about those "floating lights" he spoke of, but he couldn't leave the tower - or wouldn't. You couldn't take him to see them.

You thought about Raphael and his mother. You weren't sure what to make of her. You understood her intentions - maybe. Parents just want to protect their children. And the way she depicted people was awful. Perhaps it had something to do with Raphael's dad. Raphael had never spoken of his father, but he had to have one. Perhaps his mother's insecurities were tied to his father somehow? But of course that was only speculation. It could be something else entirely, you couldn't judge a woman nor a man when you had yet to meet them.

You were brought from your stupor when Raphael came from the kitchen and placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of you. It smelled so good you had a thought to guzzle it down then and there. You thanked him and took the handle of the bowl, blowing gently onto the steaming liquid.

Raphael sat across from you with his bowl in his hand. You took your first bite.

"I might need to marry you now," you chuckled as you slurped another spoonful of soup. It tasted oddly sweet, and the nutty flavor mixed well with the spices. The soup was a pale color and almost resembled porridge. It teetered between being a broth-like soup and a thick puree. Either way, it was good.

Raphael nearly choked on his mouthful of food. He hastily sat his bowl down on the table beside him and wiped his mouth. He cleared his throat. "U-um, don't say that. It's just soup..." He looked away.

You let out a snort in good jest. "It's called a joke! Live a little!" And you went back to slurping your beautiful sludge. A moment of silence passed. Raphael kept his gaze trained onto the floor in thought. He held a frustrated, pensive expression. You guzzled down the remaining soup - yes, the entire bowl - and took a swig of your tea. Your eyes stayed glued to his form.

"What's bothering you?" you inquired. You sat your cup back down and cleared your throat. Raphael bit the inside of his cheek. His sudden character shift perplexed you. He was quite jovial just a moment ago, why so glum now?

"How do you...how do you socialize with people so fluidly? You poke fun at my stiff wording, however..."

He lowered his voice to a mumble. You leaned further into your seat and let out a small sigh. You probably shouldn't have made fun of him. You should've known he wouldn't take it lightly. Though you meant it in good fun, Raphael was a different character. He had been isolated from people for so long he didn't know when one was only kidding around. This would be a long next few days.

"However you're in this tower and can't talk to anyone. I get it," you finished for him, offering a smile. You noticed his shoulders relax at your words. You noticed the small, green chameleon jump down from his perch above the two of you and onto Raphael's shoulder. It tilted its head and then looked at you. You didn't speak chameleon, however you felt as if he didn't take kindly to your presence in his home.

"If only you were allowed outside," you spoke, "you'd be able to see these amazing things, go to all these great places, meet great people..." At your words he shook his head. "Mother does not allow me to leave." You rolled your eyes. It was always, "Mother," this or, "Mother," that. Did he intend on being a bum his whole life? Was his mom encouraging him to be a bum?

"Listen, I don't know your mom. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that you need to experience pain to get stronger. She's limiting you and doing you a great disservice by keeping you locked up in here." You needed to lay it on him. He needed to know. He needed to know that there is life outside of his home.

He kept silent. You took that as your cue to continue.

"I'm not trying to disrespect your mother, don't get me wrong. But you need to see something other than these walls at some point in your life. Home is definitely where the heart is," you explained, "but you never learn to appreciate the things given to you if you don't venture out and get your hands a little dirty. You don't learn important life lessons." You observed his features. His eyes were down-turned and a frown etched its way into his face. He was probably offended by what you said, but you meant no harm. You were only trying to enlighten him.

"What about you?"

You tilted your head. What did he mean? His voice was hesitant, almost inaudible. You leaned forward. "Hm?"

Raphael glanced up at you. "I mean...your home. You said home is where the heart is...but where is your home? I feel as if- well, you can never be happy without a place to call home." You hummed in understanding. He was asking about where you came from. He was saying that he was content living in this tower. He was telling you that adventure and travelling wasn't everything, that you could find happiness in the place you go back to everyday. Though you wouldn't lie in saying that his question bothered you. You didn't know where you came from. That was why you were travelling in the first place - to find your home.

"Well...I suppose I don't have one. Not yet at least."

Raphael gave you a perplexed gaze, almost apologetic. You dismissed it. "I mean...I told you before that I was staying with some friends. Really..." You released a deep breath. It seemed at every chance the universe got it wanted to remind you of the short life you had lived in the past few weeks.

"They kind of took me in because I didn't have a place to go. I don't know where my home is. But I'd rather not go any further than that." You were tired, you didn't have the energy to continue this conversation.

"Oh," Raphael let out. He seemed unsure of what to say. "Just...I would rather forget all of that," you finished. You gave a thin smile and grabbed your tea to take another sip. Raphael watched as you did so.

"I wonder...you didn't know who the cottage belonged to?" Raphael inquired. You shook your head. Raphael pursed his lips in thought. "That's quite vexing. I'm so very sorry. And you don't remember where you're from?" Once more you shook your head, your patience wearing thin.

"Mother always told me about these goblins that kidnapped people and locked them away forever. I didn't believe her of course. Goblins don't exist. But it makes me wonder..." He went back to pondering.

"Your friends...where do they live?"

You sighed. "Listen," you started, standing up, "I already said I don't want to talk about it. Can you please respect that? I've finally gotten my head clear and I'd rather not pass out from stress again." You ran a hand through your hair, your damp hair, the hair that was finally clean. It soothed your tempering nerves.

Raphael dipped his head down and pouted. He was entirely too sensitive. You decided to ignore him for the time being and walked away. You were tired after eating and figured you deserved to take a nap. Raphael had said earlier he would be painting after you both ate, so he would fair just fine without you. You didn't mean to sound snippy, but really. He aggravated you terribly. His voice itself was draining. You felt bad for him, but there was only so much you could take.

"I'm gonna take a nap. Thanks for the meal."

"Oh, she's back, " Raphael commented as he poked his head out the window. His small companion sat atop his shoulder surveying the land with him. Pascal seemed hostile towards you. You weren't sure why. Perhaps he viewed you as an intruder? Or could he be jealous that Raphael's attention was being shared with you? Whatever it was, you had no intention of befriending a small reptile such as himself.

Raphael turned to you. You were standing near his mural he had been working on for so long. It was breathtaking. He had said the bright lights were those things he saw every year on his birthday. Though he held no desire to venture out, there was his figure sitting atop a hill watching them fly above. You wondered if you'd see the lights when you went to Corona.

You walked over to the window and saw Fae running up to the tower. She looked to be in one piece. "Huh, I'm impressed," you commented. You didn't entirely expect her to make it - and just in a day at that. She really was skilled in the arts of stealth.

She came up to the tower and heaved a few heavy breaths. "Give me a minute," she called up to you both. She leaned against the side of the tower to rest. "Stupid guards nearly found me!" she growled. You let out a chuckle at her frustration. Did she not see the small door just around the corner? You remembered when she first came here she used her knives to climb the tower. You sighed.

"Use the door-"

You were cut off by Raphael lugging his heavy locks over the edge of the window. You stepped aside as he flipped it over and out. You stared on in confusion as he fed his hair out the window. "Raphael? What- what are you doing?" He tied his hair on the overhead pole and gave it a firm tug. He looked to you and tilted his head. "What do you mean? I let my hair down for her to climb up." You blinked.

"Why...?" You looked from him to his hair. "There's a perfectly good staircase right over there." You pointed at the trap door sitting in the corner of the room. Raphael smiled at your words.

"(Y/n), that's where all the waste goes. We never go down there."

You paused. Just below you...all the waste from up here went down there? And you walked straight through it? You felt nauseous. You knew it didn't smell particularly pleasant down there but...

"But then..." You couldn't even form a proper sentence. Keeping that just below your house? What on earth?

"Don't worry, it gets flowed out by the water from the sinks and drains. It travels all the way out to the stream." He let out a chuckle as if you were being childish.You decided not to press any further. This day was off to a funky start.

"Nice hair, Blondie."

Fae stepped over the ledge of the window and hopped inside. She heaved as she sat down against the wall. You hurried into the kitchen and retrieved some tea from yesterday. You were going to need her to talk.

"Here," you said as you ventured back with the glass. She swiped it from you and guzzled up down. "Just how long have you been running?"

She wiped her mouth and sat the cup down, peering up at you, an incredulous look in her eyes. "Hours. But I wouldn't have been if I wasn't looking for some pesky little dwarves!" She crossed her arms and huffed.

"And? What did you find out?"

You really didn't care about her attitude. You weren't here to be buddies with a crook. What mattered was that you got what you needed.

"Tch...I couldn't find them. No one was home. Not even pretty boy." You pursed your lips. That wasn't the answer you were hoping for. Though she did say that Nival wasn't even there. So perhaps there was a chance that the dwarves had escaped?

"Anything else you can tell me?" you pressed. She gave a roll of her eyes. She really didn't like you, but you could live with that.

"Not really. Just that there was food cooking on the stove and clothes were on the line. So I figured they were still there. Don't know where they ran off to and don't care." You hummed. That was odd. Where could they have gone? Where could Nival have gone? Was he still looking for you? But the dwarves...they were still there? What a perplexing predicament.

You looked over to Raphael who was roping his hair back into the tower. This entire day was odd. From Raphael's weird disposal system, his hair climbing, to the dwarves' bewildering pseudo disappearance. You were glad you would be heading out soon.

You rubbed your temples and thought for a moment. Fae needed to rest and eat. She wouldn't be of any use starved and sleep deprived.

"Alright. I'll make a deal with you," you offered to the brunette. She furrowed her brows at you. "What? I thought you said-"

"Yes, I know. However," you cut her off, "I need to get to Corona. Like you I might have someone tailing me. So here's my proposition. You rest and recharge, and tomorrow we hit Corona." You waited. She was staring at you.

"You're stupid," she commented. She rose form her spot on the floor and leaned back to stretch. A smirk adorned her face.

"How about I take my satchel and I get out of your hair now?"

You giggled. She wanted out so badly. But you couldn't let her go just yet. Call you a villain, but you were going to use her. She signed up to be your guinea pig the moment she crossed over the window. "You're quite the jester. I'm even offering you a full night to rest and get some food, maybe even a nice, warm shower. And you'd rather be on the run, starving, cold, and tired. I'll never understand you."

You turned and started pacing. "Well, Raphael. What should we do with the bag? Our friend here seems to not want it back..." You gave a mock pout as you ran your thumb across your lip. Raphael rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hmm, I wonder what we'll do with that precious crown inside. Gosh, it was beautiful. I bet someone would pay a pretty penny for that." You hummed as you droned on. Out of your peripheral you could see Fae scowling at you. You smirked.

"Hey! A deal's a deal! That's mine, you can't just keep it!"

"But I can," you countered enthusiastically. "You stole that crown. I have the obligation to return it and turn you over to the authorities." She grew quiet. She knew what you were getting at.

"However, I'd be willing to turn a blind eye if you help me one last time." You turned to face her. You watched as she contemplated her options. She could either leave without her crown and risk you turning her in, or she could stay and rest, and take you to the city tomorrow. "I promise, you'd be free as soon as we hit Corona."

She eyed you suspiciously. "How do I know you're not lying? That you're not going to turn on your word and bring me in?" You feigned hurt and gave a small pout.

"I would never! I may be a bit obnoxious, but I promise you I never go against on my own word."

She gave a slow nod of her head. "Uh-huh...and I should trust you why? It takes two days to get to Corona by foot. That's two days with me being stuck with you." She eyed you up and down as if you were a parasite. You thought she was a hypocrite.

"Well, you're the crook here. Why should I trust you?" She paused at your words. Heaving a sigh she seemingly relaxed. "You're not as stupid as I thought you to be. Looks like we'll have an interesting journey ahead of us." You felt your face glow at her words. You knew she would come around. She really had no choice. But she seemed just as scared of you as Raphael was of his own shadow. You had to show her there was nothing to fear, lest she turn on you and leave you in the woods. That would be most undesirable.

"Alright then. Get some rest, you've earned it."

Fae rolled her eyes once more at you and made her way past you. "Just tell me where the bathroom is so I can get this filth off of me." You pointed at the curtains draped over the furthest-most wall. She groaned. "You couldn't upgrade to a door?" She turned to Raphael, glaring. "You better not get any bright ideas, kid."

Raphael looked to you, worried. "Ideas? What did I..." He seemed confused and hurt. You placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. She's just being rude." He looked to the floor, his cheeks dusted pink. You shot a warning look to the female in front of you. She appeared to be even more confused than Raphael. "Is he...? Does he not understand...?" You shook your head, silently telling her to dismiss it.

"Alright then. It's going to be an interesting night."

She turned and headed for the restroom.

You tugged on Raphael's hair to ensure it would stay in place. It was odd gripping onto someone's hair to climb down a tower. Just another thing to mark off your bucket list, you supposed. Raphael didn't seem bothered by the pulling. The knot on the pole probably prevented from you actually tugging on his scalp which calmed you immensely.

"Alright, I'm heading down!" you called down the the brunette. She watched as you stepped over the ledge. The tower was a lot taller than you wagered. Your heart was unsteady.

You drew a deep breath and decided it was now or never.

You slipped down the hair and found your way to the ground effortlessly. You wouldn't lie in saying it was a fun experience. You never thought you'd enjoy sliding down someone's hair.

 That thought in itself made you feel weird.

You fastened the satchel around your waist and dusted yourself off. "Alright, let's head out," you said to the antsy female. She started walking away as you finished dusting your pants off. "Bye, Raphael!" you called back to the blonde. However you didn't see him. You hummed in confusion.

Then he suddenly burst from the window, gliding down his own hair. Your eyes widened. What was he doing? Didn't he say he wasn't allowed to leave the tower? What on earth was he thinking? "Raphael! No!"

You made to catch him but you were only flattened by his impeding figure. You hacked as the sudden pressure on your chest knocked the wind from your lungs. Raphael groaned at the impact, scrambling up to his feet as he looked down at you. His face turned beet red.

"S-sorry! I-um...I-I!"

You stared at him awe-struck. Shaking your head you looked around you at the greenery. "Raphael, you're outside." He hesitantly nodded his head.

"Why are you outside?" He looked away. You stood to your feet. You looked back and saw that Fae had paused, a frustrated look crossing her face. You blinked and looked back to the blonde.

He attempted to unhinge his hair, managing to pull the lengthy bundle from the pole. You gazed at the long tresses falling to the ground. There was no way he could get back in now!

"Raphael! What are you doing?!" You shouted. He flinched at your sudden shift in tone. He took a step back. "I-I...I just wanted to experience the outside world! I know I'm not supposed to leave, but Mother's not here. She wouldn't know. I'll be safe as long as I stick with you and Fae! The lights, I want to see the lights!" His face was a blistering red and tears pooled in the ducts of his eyes. You couldn't keep up. He continued rambling on and on.

"I'll never be able to see them ever again! Mother won't take me and it's been my dream to ever since I was little! Please, (Y/n)! You're my first ever friend and I don't want to say goodbye just yet, just let me come with you to Corona!" He fell to his knees and entered a beggar's position. You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. He was so vexing.

"This isn't what I meant when I said you needed to get some fresh air. I'll be leaving when we get to Corona. Who will bring you back home? Fae plans on ditching me as soon as she gets her grubby little hands on this crown. And what about your mother?" There were entirely too many flaws for this plan to work. It would've been fine with you and Fae going. But throwing Raphael into the mix would bring unnecessary trouble.

Raphael stood up and faced the tower. He seemed very disheartened in your denial to accompany you to Corona. It wasn't that you didn't want him to go, but the timing wasn't the best. You had plans of your own and you couldn't babysit him.

Raphael bit the inside of his cheek. He dragged his feet against the grass. You sighed. He didn't even have shoes. He was ill-prepared to venture outside. This wouldn't work.

Raphael's eyes slowly widened as he glided his feet across the tufts of grass. His eyes sparkled and the frown that had adorned his face just seconds ago was now replaced with a pleasant smile. He was certainly odd.

"Wow..."

His face was glowing at the feel of the grass between his toes. You had never thought about what it would feel like touching grass for the first time. It was probably an earth shattering experience for him.

"Raphael, I know you want to explore. But this really isn't the time." You frowned at his immediately displeasure. You hated crushing his hopes and dreams, especially when you were the one to give them to him.

Raphael shifted in his spot, thoughtful. He mumbled a few words before looking up to you. You could see the hesitation in his eyes.

"If..." he started, but couldn't find the right words to continue. You folded your arms and waited.

"If...if you won't...let me go then...I'll - I...I'll run away on my own!"

You heard a groan from behind you, turning to see a keeling Fae. "For f*ck's sake! How immature are you?! Are you nine?!" You shot her a glare, to which she flipped you off. She was p*ssed. You couldn't lie, you were too. Raphael was being very childish. You couldn't risk him running away on his own, but would he really?

"Raphael, I'm going to give you one chance to take that back." You sounded like a scolding mother berating her child. You didn't like it.

Raphael kept silent. You raised an eyebrow at him. "You refuse to take it back? So you really do plan on running off on your own, getting lost, hungry and scared, just to do what? Prove a point? Make us feel bad?" Raphael pouted. You understood where he was coming from, but he needed to be realistic. Running away wouldn't solve anything.

"Please..." he begged. You sighed and scratched the top of your head in frustration. It was quiet for a few moments.

"..."

"Fine," you finally caved. "You can go. But," you said, pointing your finger at him, "you are not to be in the way at all! And you gotta find your own way back home, still want to go?" He frantically nodded his head. You slapped yourself in the face. This was hopeless. Well, you already agreed. There was no turning back now. He knew he was responsible for himself.

"Hey! Wait a minute, I didn't sign up for this!" You turned back to Fae who was fuming. You waved her off. "Don't worry about it. He won't be in your way. Do you want this or not?" You flashed the small bag in your hand and she scowled.

"Just- hurry up. I want this day to be over with already." And she started walking again. You shot Raphael a glance before taking off after her. This would certainly be an interesting trip.

You yawned as you pushed one foot in front of the other. You all had been walking for hours and the sun was beginning to set. Raphael hadn't shut up about his mom since you left the tower. Any chance he got he droned about how it was a mistake to leave and how he was such a troublemaker for disobeying his mom. At some point you got fed up with his whining and yelled at him. Now he trailed behind you, sulking. But you were so tired you didn't really care, as terrible as it sounded.

You had made small talk with the bandit that now stalked ahead. She was actually good at conversation when in a good mood. It only took roughly four hours for her to say anything though. Despite her hostile exterior, you could see that she wasn't all that bad underneath. Making this discovery made you wonder why she was a bandit in the first place. But again, you didn't push.

"Let's set up camp. We won't be able to see in just a few minutes," you said. Your body was aching from the long heist and you didn't want to risk anything. Though Raphael had healed you, you weren't sure if your body could go into remission.

"Ha, I guess you're right. Fine. Hand me the sheets."

You unfastened the bundles from your backpack and tossed them over to Fae. There were four large sheets. Originally two of them were supposed to work as tents for you and Fae with the other two being used as blankets. Now three had to be used as tents, but that only left one blanket...

Before you could ask who would get the blanket Fae tore the extra sheet into three equal parts. Well, you supposed that would work. She tossed one back to you and the other to a silent Raphael.

In just a few minutes she had all three tents up and tied to various trees. She was amazing. It wasn't even nightfall by the time you were nestling inside.

"Alright, we'll get up as soon as dawn hits," Fae chimed in as you crawled into the small space. You gave a thumbs up and went to pull out your small blanket. Raphael had slipped inside his tent without a single word. He was acting entirely way too immature.

"Goodnight," you called out as you laid down and pulled the cover over your body. You didn't receive a response as the sun finally slipped from the horizon. You shrugged your shoulders and turned onto your side, closing your eyes and letting sleep overtake you.

You felt your body go rigid. Your arms felt stiff and your legs heavy. It was as if you had lost complete control over yourself. You felt your heartbeat quicken. You went to yell but found that your lips felt almost detached from your body. Try as you may you couldn't find the words to cry out for help. No sound came from you as you laid there in pure agony. Was this what sleep paralysis felt like?

You couldn't see. You knew your eyes were open, but much like your lips your eyes felt almost unscrewed from your head. You were awake. You had to cry out for someone. Who was there? Was anyone there?

The only sense you had was your hearing. And your ears were pounding so terribly you wanted to pull them off. You felt suffocated. You felt like you were drowning. What was going on? Why couldn't you see? This wasn't a nice feeling at all. You wanted out. You wanted to pull the blanket off of you and run. But you couldn't. You felt heavy.

Through your ears rang a scratchy, static-like noise. It was a high-pitched squeal that faded off into a dull static. It was painful to listen to. If you could see, you'd probably see blood dripping from your ears. It was an excruciating pain to hear this squealing noise. It would rise and fall, and repeat. That was all you could hear - rise, fall, repeat.

Then you heard voices. Had someone come to save you? You desperately wanted to cry out to whoever was out there. You needed them to see you.

"Look at that," one blurred voice choked out. It sounded like it was being muffled by water almost. You could hardly understand them for the incessant static and squealing going on.

Look at what? You wanted to see. What were they talking about?

Other voices blurred in, however you couldn't tune in on them. You felt your body grow weak and you faded away. There was a moment of pure silence before you completely blacked out.

You sat up with a jolt. Your face was dripping in sweat and your heart was racing. A hand reached out to you and you pulled away, looking to see Fae staring at you. You breathed heavily.

"Whoa. Don't shoot!"

She put her hands up defensively. You looked down at your lap and clutched your head. That was so strange. That dream was terrifying. You could still hear the static buzzing off in your head. It paranoid you.

"It was only a dream. You were getting so worked up I decided to come and check on you." You kept silent. That dream was so odd. It had felt like you were in your tent, sleeping the night away. It had felt just like you were sleeping in your tent, but with this horrible noise buzzing in your ear and a terrible sense of dread seeping into your system. Perhaps it was symbolic of something? Maybe stress? You really hadn't had the time to process your emotions. Perhaps that was it.

"I'm alright. I appreciate it. Sorry to be a bother."

You pulled the thin sheet from over you and pulled some loose strands of hair back from in front of your face. Fae inched her way out of your tent and held out her hand. You blinked, taking her hand and hoisting yourself up and out of the small tent. Fae stretched her limbs and yawned.

"We gotta get going. Sun's up." You looked around and saw that the other two tents were already down. Raphael stood a bit away from the both of you with his sheets in his hands. Was he still upset about yesterday?

You huffed and took your torn sheet from inside the tent, bunching it up into a roll. Fae helped you take down your tent and you stuffed them both into your backpack. "Alright, let's head out," you said, ready to embark on the rest of your journey.

You beckoned Raphael to follow you and you noted how he kept a bit of distance between you and him. It was too early for this. You jogged up towards Fae to see what was going on with her.

"Hey, thanks for getting me up." You gave a thin smile and looked ahead. You shifted your bag onto your shoulders and noted the weight of the satchel still on your person. Fae hadn't snatched it during the night nor when she had woken you up. Perhaps she really wasn't all that bad.

"What else was I supposed to do? Leave you there?"

She flipped some wavy bangs from her face and sighed. You hummed. "Well, yeah. You could have. But you didn't. I was having a pretty bad dream and you woke me up, so I just wanted to say thank you."

It was silent then. You only heard the buzzing of the morning cicadas and the chirping of the birds. The sun shined beautifully through the trees and made for a gorgeous view. Tall pines surrounded the three of you. It would be easy to get lost if you didn't know where you were going.

"We're almost there. Just a few miles up ahead and we'll be able to see the gates."

You nodded your head at Fae's words. You were very fortunate to have a guide such as she.

You really were curious about Fae's past. Why did she become a criminal? Where was she from? You wanted to know more. She didn't spark you as the hardened, edgy bandit that was explicitly evil. She had a life. And you wanted to know what that life was like.

"You're thinking," she commented. You locked eyes with the female and found her tired expression amusing. "You might as well tell me what's on your mind. We'll be here a while." You smiled. She did have an empathetic side.

"Well, I was just wondering about you and your story. You don't have to tell me of course, but I was wondering how such a proud woman could fall so low as to become a criminal?" You felt as if she may take that out of proportion. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, she seemed uncomfortable, almost like she was retreating into her shell.

"Huh, I guess that's a fair question. Tell me your story first. Then maybe I'll share mine."

You found her request fair and just. An eye for an eye, they say. It seemed she wanted to trust you a bit more. You had no problem with that.

"Mine is actually quite anticlimactic. I'm an amnesiac that just woke up in a mysterious house a few weeks ago and I'm on the hunt for answers. Pretty standard plot." You chuckled at your own words. Fae seemed to get a kick out of it too.

"That certainly is peculiar. So like, you don't know anything? I wonder what it would be like to just forget my entire life..." She drifted off into thought. You appreciated that she wasn't bombarding you with questions. She appeared to have a head on her shoulders. She was, as you had previously stated, a no-nonsense kind of gal. She probably did find it odd that you had such an outlandish backstory, but seeing as she wasn't surprised, she had probably gone through some crap too.

"Yeah, it's pretty crazy..."

"Well," she started, "I wasn't always a crook. Surprise, surprise." She smirked. You assumed as much.

"My name isn't even Fae Ryder." She looked to you, gauging your response. You encouraged her to continue. She was using an alias. It would be be stupid of her to use her true name anyway.

"My real name is Robyn Bernadine Carla Fae Fischers. Fae is a my primary name that most call me by, though my first name is Robyn." You thought about that for a moment. You understood that some cultures used many names to give their children honorable titles or beautiful names. It was just odd for someone like you who only had a first, middle and last name. Her name was certainly interesting.

"So can I call you Robyn then?"

She only shrugged her shoulders. "I don't care. Do as you please. No one's called me that since I was a little tyke." She chuckled.

"Alright, Robyn, what turned you to the dark side?" you inquired. You were glad she trusted you enough to finally talk. You didn't expect such a change from her but she probably enjoyed the company of someone else who was a no-nonsense kind of person. You prided yourself on being the middle man.

"Well..." She trailed off. It seemed she wasn't sure where to begin. You put a hand on her shoulder. She looked to you confusedly. "Only tell me what you want to tell me. I'm not here to judge."

She seemed relieved at that. You really were only curious. She wasn't being forced to talk. You only figured you might as well get to know each other if you've got a few hours till your destination.

"Hm, alright then. I was born to a family of fishermen. I was one of five children and was always the trouble maker." You smiled at the thought of Robyn sitting on a boom dock, holding a fishing pole, tying some bait on her hook. She definitely didn't fit that title. If you had to take a gander at what she wanted to be, you'd probably guess at a lawyer. You weren't completely sure why you thought that, however she had her wits about her and she never backed down from a fight. She could probably argue a case very well if you'd let her.

"I decided I wanted to run away when I was sixteen. I couldn't stand the stuffy house or the smell of fish. Gosh, I hate fish." She pulled a face at the memories. You couldn't deny that that was hilariously contrary. Her family fished all day but she couldn't even stand the smell.

"I was a stupid teenager back then and I didn't know what I was doing."

You heard the somber tone in her voice. Did she have qualms about leaving home? Or had she gotten into even more trouble? Whatever the case was, it led to her being what she was now.

She looked down at her shoes as they kicked up loose dirt. You noticed her jaw quivering slightly. Something had happened. She swallowed hard before continuing.

"And...I met the Stabbington brothers."

Ah, so she met some other misfits like her. Seeing as she was uncomfortable just talking about them, they must have been awful. You wondered who they were. But you weren't curious enough to lead Robyn into an onslaught of questions.

It's alright," you said. "We don't have to talk about it anymore. Thanks for sharing that with me." You concluded the subject and fell into silence. You were right in assuming there was baggage tied to her. There often is in cases such as hers. It was sad to think that someone could have been so cruel to them in the past that they felt that they were unlovable or that they had to resort to violence to obtain their goals. It was truly sad.

You noted that you had been walking for a while. Up ahead there was a clearing past some trees and you could see the blue sky looking down at you. There were people passing to and fro, some in carts, some on foot. You turned to Fae. "Hey, is that Corona?" You pointed at the tons of people walking along a cobblestone path. You could only make out a bridge and the rocky road from your vantage point.

Fae hummed. "Yeah, looks like. Let's hurry before the guards start patrolling - if they haven't already." You gave a curt nod and picked up your pace. Behind you Raphael struggled to lug his thousands of locks of hair as he attempted to keep up. You had told him he was responsible for himself, and that meant his hair too. He should've thought about how he would drag such a mess of hair miles into the woods. And he still didn't have any shoes.

You decided not to dwell on the matter. You were finally nearing Corona. You would be able to start over now. You couldn't risk going back for the dwarves, but knowing that they were still alive was enough to put your mind at ease. You had to mark your own journey. You needed to find answers. You weren't sure what all lied ahead in your path, but you couldn't be scared now. The storm had passed. You were okay now.

"Alright, let's go."

[iamacrazybagel]

What if I Told You Fairy Tales Were Real? - Chapter 4: Pawn

You tugged at the silk shirt, pulling the sleeves past your elbows. The material was actually quite fitting. Raphael had given you one of his finished projects, and you had to admit that you were impressed. The shirt was a simple white, and black patterns were etched into the sleeves. There was even a small breast pocket for pens and such. You were even more awestruck when he had handed you the matching pants. He really had some talent. They were a dark brown and the cuffs were tucked under and sewn to give the pants a puffed out look. There was even a golden chain going along the right side. You couldn't thank him enough.

You looked over your figure in the standing mirror. You felt clean. It was a nice, rejuvenating feeling having a clean body and clean clothes. You were so grateful for Raphael's hospitality. You could see he was beginning to relax around you. Despite it only have been a day since you had broken in arrived, you could tell he was much more at ease around you. He probably had realized if you were here to hurt him, you would've done so already. And he did heal your wound. Thinking back to that, it still perplexed you how he was able to do such a thing. But you could assume that he had magical/supernatural abilities just as much as Nival's step mother had.

"Wow," You heard from behind. Raphael stood behind you and through the mirror you could see his smile. He was glossing over your attire. "It really suits you. If I'm being honest, I wasn't very passionate about that particular outfit. I only spent a week on the shirt and two on the pants. I just didn't feel inspired by the design." You turned to him with a toothy grin. "Well, be glad you finished it. I love it, myself. The work you put into this is amazing. I thought you said you couldn't sew." You gave him a condescending look. He had no self esteem it seemed like. He needed to see how talented he really was.

"Heh...thanks. I never imagined anyone other than Mother would ever see them, much less wear them. I'm just a bit nervous." He gave a soft chuckle. He was too adorable. This poor guy lived in this tower, alone, and had never even seen another person aside from his mother. He had dreams like everyone else. He had hobbies and passions. He was so scared of reaching out and accepting praise. You needed to change that.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a slight squeeze. "Well, don't be. I love it. I'd love to see more of your 'horrible' work." You gave a smirk as his cheeks flushed a soft pink. You looked past him and at the still unconscious female. You frowned. You weren't sure what you would do when she woke up. You had taken the satchel she had had and had placed it past a loose brick in the tower's structure. She wouldn't be able to do much without her prize. That should be enough for her to spill her story.

You peered back towards Raphael. "So, where does the magic happen?"

"Y-you don't have to...I mean, really. Most of them are incomplete and I'm not particularly-" You stopped him in his tracks. He needed to grow a backbone. He was too frail to even look you in the eyes. Though some would find this hesitancy cute or laughable, you found it unnerving and frustrating. You had a very mild temper, and it was to a fault. Raphael didn't deserve being scolded for his flaws when you clearly had some yourself.

"Don't worry about it," You countered dryly. You just needed to distract him from the elephant in the room, the dozing elephant in the room. Raphael was understandably nervous and uncomfortable having this strange, possibly dangerous woman up here. And to top it off, you had stumbled in just a day ago yourself. He needed to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts. If he didn't, you were both screwed.

"Alright...um, I keep my projects over here," he gestured to a grand, mahogany wardrobe. You hadn't really taken the time to soak in the environment. The tower only had a single room, yet there were cracks and crevices everywhere. The space was actually quite large too. Several tables lined the walls, some with paints and brushes, some with paper, and some with fabric. It appeared Raphael had a single space he dedicated to his projects. It was the dimmest area of the room, which perplexed you. The window beamed light directly into the tower, but because this space was covered by the supporting beams above it and a makeshift wooden ladder, it was blocked by any light. It was beautiful, but how could Raphael work in such dim conditions?

You did admire the space. It was worn out, almost that of an over-used shirt. Yet that only brought out its cozy and inviting aura. Raphael obviously spent lots of time in this part of his...single room. You shook your thoughts away and followed him to the boastful closet. You wondered how long he had been sewing. Would he show you some pieces he patched up as a child? Or were they all recent works? You smiled to yourself.

"Um, are you sure we should be leaving the girl over there?"

He glanced behind you and to the still unconscious woman. He needed to breathe. She was confined to a chair and had no way of tearing loose. Aside from that, you held above her the trump card that was her satchel. She wouldn't make it very far if she tried to run, nor if she tried to hurt either of you. And since Raphael had miraculously healed you, your body felt so much stronger and limber. You were more confident in your ability to take her down should she get reckless.

"Yeah," You said, turning him back to the open wardrobe, "she won't be up any time soon." You gave him a rough pat on the shoulder and looked to the assortment of clothes. There were several shirts made of fine silk. Most of them were pastel colors - pinks, blues, reds, and purples. You felt the style suited Raphael.

"How long have you been sewing?" You asked as you took hold of a purple dress shirt. It was a long sleeved under-shirt and had many laces framing the torso. Some ruffled fabric adorned the collar and cuffs of the shirt. It was beautiful. "I've only been working on these for a few years. But I've been working on my embroidery skills since I was young." He took a small pillow from one of the many tables and displayed it for you. It was a simple stitched design, a bird sitting on a branch. It looked like a blue jay almost, but there was something inherently different about it. "Wow, so you stitched that when you were little?" You placed the shirt back into the closet and instead took the plush pillow into your hands. It fit snugly in the palms of your hands. The pillow itself was a maroon color, the stitching was an off-white. And though it was sloppy, you were impressed all the same. You knew you would bleed out if you so much as attempted to hold a sewing needle.

"Yeah. Mother gave me these beautiful threads for my birthday one year and told me to make something wonderful. I wouldn't call that wonderful...but I suppose it did turn out alright for a first attempt." He cracked a sly smile and met your gaze. "I personally like the purple sheets and threads. It's such a beautiful color, don't you think? I've never seen a lavender in my life, but the pictures I've seen were spectacular." His eyes were stars shimmering brightly at you. A hum left your lips.

"They are pretty."

You thought for a moment. It was so odd to you that Raphael had never seen these different plants and such. You desired to tell him about these things, to enlighten him about all the amazing flowers and fabrics out there. But you couldn't. You didn't know if you, yourself had ever encountered these things. You knew what they were, you had this basic knowledge of the world around you. But you couldn't say if you had ever actually seen one, and if you had, where. Such a realization almost made you light headed. It was disorienting to say the least. You had been boggled at the prospect that Raphael hadn't ventured outside of his tower, but how long had you been locked away in that abandoned cottage, asleep?

You were abruptly pulled back from your mind as a groan resounded from behind you. Your eyes darted to Raphael. His shoulders tensed, his eyes trained on the figure behind you. "Don't worry," you mouthed, taking the frying pan Raphael had had before from the table next to you. It was hefty. You wondered how Raphael could throw such a tool with ease.

You turned and gazed at the groggy intruder. She was hunched over the chair, her eyes squinting and mild hisses of pain leaving her lips. You approached her with the utmost caution.

"State your name," you ordered. Her head whirled to yours and your eyes locked. She had deep, forest green hues, her eyes tired and lazy. Her eyes parted form yours to hassle with the restraints binding her to the chair. "H-hey!" she cried. She wiggled and chafed against the ropes. You now loomed over her, frying pan steady in hand. "State your name," you boomed once more. She hissed at the alarming tone of your voice. She must have had a headache.

"Fae," she barked back, still making attempts at the ropes. "Fae Ryder. Now let me go, you stupid w*nch!" Your brows furrowed above your eyes, displeasure etched into your face. You did not appreciate the derogatory language. "Ah, but I cannot do that." Your voice took on a sincere and sickly sweet tone. It felt disgusting, but you would be d*mned if you were going to allow a complete stranger, an intruder, to demean you. She had to know her place.

"Tell me what your business is here."

You took the chair in your hand and tilted it ever so slightly. Fae drew a sharp breath of air before shooting her eyes to you, a glare pouring through. You tilted your head and gave a smile. If she wanted to play nasty, you would be nasty. You had no trouble at all putting people in their place. With your short temper it came quite easy. Of course you knew when you needed to bite your tongue. You weren't stupid. Though you could tell that Fae in fact was. She looked like one to let her emotions get the better of her. She looked like she hardly used logic, she ran off of adrenaline. Such a waste, really. You never learn or accomplish anything by doing that.

Instead of giving you the answer you so desired, she spat onto your shoe. You grimaced at the repulsive act. She gave a hum in triumph.

Sliding your shoes across her pant leg you wiped the saliva off of your shoe. Fae most likely thought you crazy now. But you were only doing onto her what she had done to you. It was harmless. "Now, are you willing to talk?" You inclined the chair closer to your face, making Fae panic. "You filthy..." You turned up an eyebrow at her, awaiting her words.

"Agh...I was running away, okay?"

You urged her to continue. That was not an acceptable answer. Who was she running from? Why? Why did she have a prized possession of the royal family? Was anyone following her? Would they find you all? These were the answers you needed answered.

After noticing the silence you responded with she sighed. "I was running away from these guards. I found this place after I was knocked down by this horse. Stupid horse..." So she was a fugitive, it was confirmed.  If she were being chased by skilled guards, how had they not found her? You understood this tower was secluded, but how incompetent were these men to lose a criminal they were directly pining after? If they couldn't follow this single woman, you feared for the safety of the citizens of Corona.

"And you climbed this tower in hopes of hiding out?"

Fae only dipped her head. She must have felt so frustrated. But she honestly had no right to be. She was trespassing. She did have a stolen artifact on her. She needed to be realistic and work with you. You wouldn't get anywhere if she continued to be defensive. You needed her. She seemed to know her way around these woods. She could be an advantageous pawn.

Her face was shielded by long tufts of chocolate strands. She was honestly a visually attractive woman. She almost looked pure in appearance, her face smooth and clear of blemishes. Her green eyes gave her a curious facade. Though her body was that of a curvaceous woman. She wasn't flabby nor had any fat. In fact she was quite lean, but her chest protruded out greatly and her hips bowed out, making her waist look twice as small as it probably was. Her outfit covered most of this though. Your view was only made possible by the tight bindings around her figure. You found her modesty vexing, all things considered.

"Yes. Obviously I thought no one lived here. Who lives in towers anymore?" She blew a few strands of hair away from her face. You let out a small chuckle and released the chair. It wobbled back and forth from the force. Fae cursed at you. "Uh-uh-uh," you chided, wagging a finger before her. "No cursing, unless you don't want your things back."

Her face paled at the mention of her belongings. She looked around her body for what you assumed was her satchel. "Where did you put it? That's mine!" her voice boomed. You snorted. Her reaction was hilarious. You noticed Raphael growing weary and concerned. He was quivering. You flashed him a knowing smile, assuring him you were alright.

"Don't worry. The satchel and its contents are perfectly safe."

You fiddled with the pan in your hand and eyed it fondly, intimidating the woman. "What do you want?" she snapped. You pursed your lips and peered u at the ceiling in thought. The wooden beams jetted out in every direction. You wondered if Raphael had made a secret space up there.

"Oh, you read my mind," you said cheekily. You thought back to the reason you were here in the first place. You, yourself could not traverse these woods. You had been hurt twice already, and there was a man possibly searching for you. It would not boast well for you if you were to be caught. But you still needed to make sure your friendly dwarves were safe. Your mind just wouldn't let it rest. You would feel immense guilt for not even trying to do something.

"I need you to do me a favor," you said, twirling back to meet her stern gaze. "I'll give your precious satchel back if you go and look for these people." You waited for a response. She only grumbled.

"Who?"

You smiled. You had won. "Well, I have some friends I crashed with that may be in trouble. I got lost, myself, and found this tower, just as you did. Since you appear to be skilled in navigating this place, your task is to go and look for them." Fae only scoffed. Rolling her eyes, she chafed against the ropes.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I got guards chasing after me! And you want me to go and check on some friends?" You only gave a nod. She groaned.

"You're crazy."

"And you're a thief. Consider this repentance for your sins." You backed away slowly, making no move to untie her. She desperately wanted out of her restraints. You only sat down in a plush love seat by the fire place. She scowled at you. "And what if I get caught? You won't get what you want if I get caught."

You giggled. She really thought there was a way of getting out of this. She had stolen a precious gem and trespassed onto someone's property. She should have been grovelling at your feet. Yet she had the gull to spite you. She was a spit-fire for sure.

"Well, consider this. You also won't get what you want if you get caught."

"Think it over, maybe take a nice nap," you insisted. You set the pan down onto the small table next to you and watched her. She would obviously agree. She had to. She wouldn't get her precious crown otherwise. Of course what she had done was wrong and you really shouldn't give her the crown back. However, you needed her. A deal was a deal. And maybe by then things would be a bit different. Maybe you didn't have to worry about this thief running off with a royal gem. You wouldn't know until the time came.

Fae mumbled a few words under her breath and sighed begrudgingly. She seemed to have come to terms with your plea. "Fine." She looked up to you.

"Who are your friends?"

Footsteps crunched above fallen leaves. A slight breeze blew past, sashaying a few dead spades down its course. The sun shone brightly between the many hefty pines and oaks. Autumn was his favorite of all the seasons. It was a time for going outside while you still could, bundle in a jacket or blanket and laugh and smile with others. He only had his mother, though he still enjoyed serving warm tea to the frail old woman and talking about the many wonders of life. She was his life. She had shown him just how beautiful the dead of autumn could be. She had once taken a caterpillar and displayed it inside a jar for him to view. As a child he hadn't realized how magnificent something as repulsive as a caterpillar could be. He had asked her why she admired these fall creatures so much, and she had told him to be patient, to watch and observe. And he did, witnessing the miracle of metamorphosis. What was once a crummy little wiggly-thing was now a beautiful and majestic butterfly.

His mother was also fond of reading, and as a child he had never had the patience for such trivial matters. He'd much rather be outside playing in the dirt. He had had a few friends here and there. They would play the day away. He enjoyed that. Though his mother, as patient as ever, had taught him that stories were more than just words on paper. They held truth in tales of fiction.

He thought back to the first time he had ever picked up a book. It wasn't an earth-shattering experience. In fact he hated it. He didn't understand why his mother liked these things. The same could not be said for his much more mature countenance now. He often read a book weekly. He was so captivated by books now that he couldn't imagine a life without them. There was a point in his life where he found himself changing. He wasn't able to do the many things he used to as a child. His mother was an inventor, a great one at that. She could brew any elixir, forge any machine, and it would surpass anything a blacksmith or apothecary could do. And he found himself captivated by her work. He supposed that was where it began.

He often found himself right by her side as she worked. He was always amazed by his mother's words and actions. He became so fixated on following in his mother's footsteps, that he completely forgot about his provincial life. He didn't have time for playing with friends. And it seemed they didn't care to either.

His mother had explained to him that many people didn't favor her. They saw her as a witch or sorceress. She claimed that many of the people in their town was poorly educated and biased. They were scared of the unknown. And when he had asked why people were distant towards him now, she had given him a pitied look and said, "When you choose this life, you lose many friends. You are now something to be feared in the eyes of society." But she had hugged him and had told him never to change, for she knew he was not a monster. She believed he could surpass anyone and everyone he wanted to, but he had to be patient.

He stepped further into the thicket of trees. The house in question came into view. A relieved sigh left his lips as he trudged on. He had been walking for miles. Really, he had been marching for days. It would have taken him weeks to reach his destination, but seeing as he was in a hurry, he refused to sleep. He had to save his mother.

He walked along the beaten path and approached the quaint little cottage. It was made from dry clay it seemed it was weathered down. The roof appeared to be made of plated sheets and they were painted a beige color. A chimney spouted smog, telling the man that there indeed was someone home. He rounded the corner and found himself at the porch of the building. Two flower beds were in place on either side of the entrance. He could see a grand tree just a bit of distance away. A vegetable garden sat on the far side of the house and a clothes line swayed with many different colored shirts and pants still drying.

He approached the door and gave a few knocks. He cleared his throat and patted down his shirt. He noted that he didn't smell the best, he hadn't showered in several weeks. He only was able to cleanse himself in a lake just a few miles short of here. No matter, he'd soon be able to take as many showers as he so desired.

The door creaked open and a face appeared through the small crack. The male gave a thin smile. "Hello, sir. Might I trouble you for a moment?" The other male, with his midnight hair shielding his face, mumbled under his breath. His blue eyes gazed suspiciously into the brown eyes of the visitor.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

The man attempted to push open the door slightly. The resident kept a steady hand. "Sir, I only wish to see you." He chuckled as he clutched his case loser to his person. He had been holding a small briefcase all this time. It looked suspicious to the man behind the door. "If you are weary of my intentions. I assure you I harbor no ill intent towards you. My name is Antoine Chalamate."

Antoine flashed another reassuring smile. The man behind the door only grumbled. He did not trust him. "And what do you want from me, Mister Chalamate?" His voice was deep, almost threatening. Antoine noticed that his voice could otherwise be heavenly smooth. He knew that this was an odd shift in character for the male. He had been watching him for a while now. Something must have happened. He frowned.

"Does a person by the name of (Y/n) reside here by chance?"

The man's eyes seemed to flicker in familiarity. In an instant his arm reached out and took Antoine by the collar. He glared at him with a seething rage. Antoine paled at the motion. Something had happened. But what?

"How do you know (Y/n)?" The man pulled Antoine closer to him and was sputtering at him. Antoine attempted to keep his cool and huffed a breath of frustration. His mouth still etched into a smile he took hold of the man's wrist. "S-sir, please. There is no need to be so brash. They're family, that is all!"

The man released his hold on the brunette carefully. His eyebrows etched together in confusion. "Family? Who are they to you?" Antoine released a slow breath of relief. He had prepared for these questions on his long trek here. He was ready for all of it. "They're my sibling. We got separated as children and I only just heard say of them from locals." Antoine looked past the tall male and peered inside the home. His counterpart then blocked his view.

"Mister White, correct?"

Antoine supposed he needed to grow smitten with the man. From what he had gathered, Nival White was a prince from the kingdom of Göttlichkeit and was raised primarily by his abusive step mother. He came to live in this small cottage after an assassination attempt and now lived with seven small men. He appeared to be a very outgoing and caring individual. It struck him as odd that he would treat a visitor with such disdain.

"What's it to you? You been stalking me?" Nival eyed Antoine from the head down and noted his attire was quite dirty. This did not help Antoine's case.  Antoine let out a nervous laugh. "Of course not, my good sir! I only know because of your status. Such a shame what happened, my condolences, truly." There was a short pause between them. It was uncomfortable.

"So...is (Y/n) staying here? I'd love to bring them back home and-"

"No, they aren't here. Now scram." Nival made to close the door but Antoine rushed to block his action. His tone was rushed as he spoke. "A-are you sure? I was told otherwise! Please, you must know the pain I feel being torn away from my dearest sibling!" He inwardly cringed at his words. He knew he wasn't the best actor in the world, but Nival would have to be dimwitted to buy such an exaggerated plea.

Nival groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He looked disheveled. Of course Antoine knew he had been dead just weeks ago but he felt that being a corpse brought back to life wasn't the reason behind his distress. He wanted to know what happened. If it affected his plans in any way he needed to know. But he knew he couldn't simply invade Nival's space and bombard him with questions. He was still a stranger after all.

"Look, they're not here. Even if they were I wouldn't tell you."

"B-but-" Nival stopped him and placed a hand in front of him. "You really believe I'd buy that you were their family? They have no family as far as I'm concerned, and if you were said family, I can guarantee you wouldn't have a single breath left to take." His voice took an alarmingly dark tone. Antoine was severely confused. He had to find out what happened. He couldn't fail. His mother was depending on him to return with this person.

It seemed that his intended target was not here. He should've done more digging before assuming as much. He should've spent more time tracking his target rather than the house he thought they were at. This would set him back a bit.

"A-alright. I thank you for your hospitality. I shall take my leave then..."

Nival raised an eyebrow at him. "Not so fast. If you wish to ever walk again I suggest you tell me why exactly you are searching for (Y/n)." Antoine felt his shoulders sag and he felt that this conversation was incredibly exhausting for him. He might have been a book worm but he was not well versed in the arts of communication. Nival was suspicious of him. And he wanted to cut this short and continue on with his mission.

"In all honesty, they were a friend I was affiliated with long ago. I treated them horribly and wanted to make amends." His face fell and he pulled a frown. Nival didn't buy it. "Then why try to play the family card?"

Antoine darted his eyes. He felt a cold sweat dawning on his small frame. "Because...they wouldn't want to see me if they knew it was me reaching out. If I played as their brother, they'd come to the door. But if I came as myself, they'd turn me away. I just know it." Antoine pulled a pitiful expression and managed to fake a few tears. He was surprised at the action. Perhaps the stress of possibly losing his mother was finally taking its toll on him, allowing him to produce these crystal-like droplets.

"Well, you won't find them here. And I suggest you stop searching, or you may lose more than that friendship of yours." Again with the threats, Antoine thought. He didn't understand. Nival was a chipper young man just days ago!

"Alright. Thank you. Good day."

With those words Antoine turned on his heel and made for the beaten path. Nival didn't call for him so he assumed his excuse had convinced him. He relaxed his shoulders as he made his way down the yard. He didn't want to turn back and look Nival in the eye, he could feel his piercing gaze trained on him.

He passed the tree and picked up his pace. There was a thicket of trees off to his right. "Alright, time to find out where (Y/n) is..." He took his briefcase from his hands as he entered the patch of trees and out of sight. He knelt down and opened it, revealing an assortment of papers, pens, and a mirror. He grasped the mirror and wiped the fog from its visage.

"Alright, where is (Y/n)?"

At his inquiry the mirror darkened and a heavy fog loomed beyond its frame. He focused intently as a scene was painted before him. It appeared they were in a tower of sorts. It didn't look too difficult to find. Such a structure could be spotted for miles it seemed, judging by the wide clearing surrounding it. Using context clues he wagered their location was in the direction he was headed. The scene was painted for the current time, and he could tell the sun was clear from sight. He was fortunate to have read as many navigation books as he had.

He closed and locked his briefcase and hugged it tightly to his chest. He had to hurry. He didn't want to imagine how his mother was faring. She was counting on him to fulfill this mission. He rose from his position on the ground and dusted himself off. He desperately yearned for a shower. But there was no time.

He trudged up the hill and paid mind to any sort of clearing jetting out. His footsteps crushing the dead leaves beneath his feet calmed him ever so slightly, reminding him of the good times he had had. It was silent aside from the buzz of critters and the hum of the wind. He frowned as he allowed his mind to drift.

"Don't worry, Mama. I'll be back soon."

[iamacrazybagel]

What if I Told You Fairy Tales Were Real? - Chapter 3: Flower, Gleam and Glow

(A/n) - Warning up ahead! Slight mention of suicide.

You pulled back some vines from a stray tree branch and peered inside the clearing. A path had led you towards this establishment called The Ugly Duckling, of which was closed for the evening. You then had followed aimlessly down the path until you had lost it entirely. And night was creeping up. You couldn't find your way back now.

You had to find a place to settle in for the night. You were exhausted and your injury still throbbed in painful agony. The blood had started crusting a few hours ago, but at every slight movement the cells would tear apart and more thickened blood would ooze out. It stung terribly.

"Wow..."

Your eyes captured the breathtaking scenery before you. A stream laid a little ways away off to the right and you could hear the pitter-patter of a waterfall off in the distance. The grass was a lush green and small flowers decorated the ground. Instead of tall, slim pine trees, hefty oak trees provided mass amounts of shade and beautiful green leaves danced on their branches. The land was so awe-inspiring you almost forgot your objective.

"Alright...people. People...where are people?"

You still needed to help the dwarves. But seeing as it was already sunset and you were lost, you needed to first find a place to sleep and find someone who could help you. That would be your safest option now. You wouldn't lie in saying you didn't feel guilty leaving the dwarves like this. It gnawed at your conscience like a wood chipper. It was nauseating thinking about what would happen - they arrive home just to find a bloodied Nival and a dead body out back.

You looked around and spotted some light passing through some vines off to the left. You marched up to the vegetation and pulled them back, revealing an opening so grand it looked to be something out of a fairy tale. In the center of the clearing stood a tall, brick tower. It was an odd structure to be laced in the middle of such a vast opening. The rest of the land was surrounded by simple shrubbery. Trees also only appeared a good distanced away.

The tower appeared to be old. You wondered if anybody lived there. You squinted and made out a small, open window up at the top of the structure. A small, wooden door jetted off to the side at ground level. That would be your way in.

You surveyed the land carefully. You wondered what a tower was doing in such a place. It seemed like an odd placement.you decided not to dwell any further, noting the dimming sun.

You trudged up to the tower, taking in its grandeur. It was simplistic in style. White brick formed every inch aside from the small, wooden door you now stood in front of. You silently pleaded for the door to be open and felt relief wash over you as it creaked open. Inside stood a staircase and nothing more. Odd, you noted, making your way up the spindly stair way.

Up ahead you could see a bit of light coming from a trap door. You glanced at the inner walls of the structures and found bouts of cobwebs and critters crawling in-between the crevices. You'd be genuinely surprised if someone lived here.

You grunted as you pushed on the over-head trap door. The maneuver caused your wound to stretch open and your clothes were once again covered with blood. "Ngh..." You heaved yourself onto the floor of the trap door and panted. It was already nightfall and you could see the full moon shining brightly through the window. You gazed around the small room and found the place to be quite lively and messy. White, dirtied sheets lied across the floor. Jars of brushes and pencils were scattered everywhere. Book shelves lined every wall. A mantel stood towards the back and a few chairs sat before it. A bed resided to the right ad had golden curtains veiling it. But you could see it was vacant.

It looked like someone didlive here - or at least had. You didn't think anybody was here. You could rest on the bed and get help tomorrow, if your wound would allow you. You hoisted yourself up from the floor and lugged your body onto the bed, groaning at the newfound comfort. The lavish king-sized bed felt plush under your tense body. The pillows cushioned your neck and relieved some of the pressure from your wound.

You felt your eyes grow heavy, and sleep soon overcame you.

You woke up feeling sore. You hissed at the pain in your chest. Your joints also felt rigid. How would you be able to get help if you couldn't even walk?

Your eyes peeled open and you winced at the bright sun shining in through the open window. You could now see the room you were in clearly and gazed around through the golden curtains. There were paintings decorating the walls. They were all beautiful and awe-inspiring. Some were of angels, some of rivers. There were flowers, birds and butterflies all painted along the wall in front of you. It was all so beautiful. Did nobody really live here?

You yawned and attempted to sit up. "Agh!" You cried out as your chest practically threw you back down. "Sh*t..." It hurt even worse today. Perhaps it was getting infected.

A sudden sound forced you to whip your head in front of you. A long lock of what appeared to be hair fell onto the floor. You eyed it cautiously.

"H-hello? Is someone there?" You called out to the air. The hair traveled up and out of view. Whoever it belonged to was well hidden. But...who could possess such lengthy hair? The strands you saw ran for over twenty feet!

"Please! I need your help!"

You pleaded desperately for the person to come out. You felt your heart race. You couldn't get up from the bed. Anxiety coursed through your body and tears soon pricked at your eyes. You sniffed.

You saw through blurry eyes a figure jump down from the ceiling. They looked directly at you, hesitant. You gave a pitiful expression. "Please, I-I'm sorry I broke in. I didn't know anyone lived here! But I'm hurt, and I have friends who might be in danger. Please, I need your help!" You watched as the figure approached you slowly. You doubted they would harm you. They would've done so already if they planned to do that.

They pulled the curtain back and you could now make out the features of a young man. His pale, blue eyes peered down at you with fear. You could see his body visibly trembling. He looked more fearful than you!

"Please, can you help me?" You repeated for the nth time. He gazed over your body, noticing the injury going down your chest. He squeaked. He jumped back. The tense silence made tears prick at your eyes. A sudden pit burrowed into your chest.

"Why...why is this happening to me?!"

You were stabbed and were bleeding out. A woman was murdered right in front of you. The man responsible had confessed his love for you. You were tired. You were exhausted. This man appeared to be afraid of his own shadow. You just wanted to find the dwarves, but that didn't happen. Were they alright now? Were they even alive?

Tears cascaded like waterfalls down your cheeks. Ugly sobs racked your body. Your shoulders trembled as you felt weak and helpless. You just wanted this to be over. You wanted to be safe. You wish you knew who you were or what you were doing here. Why did your life have to be so hard?!

Why was any of this happening to you? Why, you repeated. Now you were stuck in this tower with a man so scared he sounded like a squirrel. You suddenly felt dizzy,

"I just..." You closed your eyes. You felt lightheaded and let out short, rigid breaths.

"I just wanted to die..."

And then you blacked out.

"Flower, gleam and glow..."

Your eyes squinted open. Did you pass out? What about the man? Where was he? You felt around and found you were still on the bed. Had he left?

Your eyes opened to find him sitting on the bed next to you. He mumbled words under his breath and looked away, a frown adorning his lips. You tried to shift away but found your torso wrapped in something. "Huh...?" You peered down, eyeing the locks of lavish hair coiled around your body. You furrowed your bows at the sight.

"Make the clock reverse...bring back what once was mine..."

You locked your gaze onto the male. The hair atop his head was almost glowing a vibrant gold. It was beautiful. But, how? What was happening? Why were these golden locks caging your body?

"H-hey. What are you-" You watched as he finished his incantation. His voice wasn't very smooth, but wasn't hoarse either. It was melodic, really. He seemed like a soft spoken individual.

"What once was mine..."

His hair then faded back to its original blonde and the light that came from it vanished. Your eyes stared in surprise. He looked back at you, eyes somber. You blinked, and hurried to untangle his hair from your body. "Wh-who are you? Why did you do this-"

You gasped. Underneath the locks of blonde hair was your injury, now seemingly gone. The only sign it had ever been there was the dried blood soaking your shirt. The skin was stitched back together, but there were no stitches. It just appeared to have magically healed! And you didn't feel any pain!

"I...I healed you..."

You gawked at the now mended wound. "How..." You were at a loss for words. Did this guy have magic? Was his hair- did his hair do that?

"Here," he said, offering his hands, "let's lean you up. I noticed before that your joints were stiff." You took his hand and scooted up to lean against the mounted pillows. You looked down at your clothes, noting how dirty they were. You wished you could toss them. Not only were they filthy, they were Nival's. You felt suffocated.

"Um...can-can you tell me...who you are?"

You faced the man, feeling oddly uncomfortable. He was so scared. He was jittery in his words, like he didn't know how to speak. You frowned.

"My name's (Y/n). Thank you for tending to my wound." You still couldn't believe the stab wound had magically healed. You felt even better than you had waking up in that abandoned cottage! How could there be such a power?

"You're-you're quite welcome."

He really didn't know how to talk. He continued to avert his eyes, his face growing warm and flushed. You sighed. "I'm not dangerous. I just...I got hurt and needed to find help. I have friends who might be in trouble." You pursed your lips tightly thinking about the dwarves.

The man fidgeted in his place. "I-I see. I'm terribly sorry for whatever has happened. But...I can't help you." His eyes, narrowed and upturned, sent you a pitied look. "I can't leave the tower, and even if I could, I wouldn't know what to do..." You sent him a questioning look.

"You can't leave this tower? Are you a prisoner? But-the door's just downstairs-" He cut you off. "No, no. I'm not a prisoner. I live here." His hands rushed up in defense. You were confused.

"Then...why can't you leave?"

"Mother Gothel doesn't allow me to. She says the outside world is a dangerous place, and that everyone beyond the tower is evil." His eyes shot up. "N-not to say you're evil! I figured you had it pretty bad, wherever you came from..." His eyes lingered on your bloodied cotton shirt. You looked away.

"Oh, I hope Mother isn't going to be vexed with me! She's going to, isn't she? I'm going to be in so much trouble for talking to an outsider. She'll probably lock me downstairs for a week! What am I going to do, Pascal?" The man stood from his spot on the bed and began pacing around frantically. He continued to mutter incoherent words as you just watched on. A small chameleon had jumped down from its spot on a wooden beam and was seemingly communicating with the man. You cleared your throat in an attempt to catch his attention.

"So you live here with your mother?" You asked as his eyes met yours. He hesitantly nodded. "Good, then where is she? Perhaps she could help me." The male's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. "No! I shouldn't even be talking to you! She'll have my head if she finds out you were here!" The small chameleon eyed you cautiously. You did a double take.

"Why? Won't she understand a traveler needing help?" He shook his head once more. You rolled your eyes. "She can't be all that bad. Where is she? Maybe I could speak with her." He, once again, shook his head. He took your hands in his and gave you a pleading look.

"Please, don't. I'll be in so much trouble if you do."

Tears were beginning to well in the corners of his eyes. You pulled away from him. "What is with you? Are you that afraid of your own mother?" You were growing weary of the hysterical male. You didn't even know his name and he was spewing about his mommy issues.

"Mother has strict rules. I am not to leave the tower. The outside is dangerous and people will only hurt me or use me, " He paused for a moment and hesitated. "...There once was a man who came up here when I was younger...his eyes were gouged out and he was thrown over the window. You should leave if you don't want the same to happen to you." He bit his lip anxiously.

You were flabbergasted. His mother did that?

"I don't even know how I got here. I was trying to find these mines to warn the dwarves about...Never mind. My point is, I'm lost, and somebody is most likely chasing after me. Are you sure I can't talk to your mother?" He once again negated your plea.

"Even if you could, she's not here right now. She won't be back for a few weeks." You grunted in frustration and rubbed your head. This guy was so vexing. Why couldn't he have just said that from the beginning? He was very flat in the ways of talking. Sometimes he made sense, but other times...you wanted to gouge your eyes out.

"Do you have a map I could use then?" You deadpanned at his nonverbal response.

"Alright, then may I stay until your mother returns? I'd rather not be on my own walking aimlessly without any directions." The man went to speak but you cut him off. "And don't say no because of your stupid mother. She's not even here." He then shied away from you. There was a long pause. You took that as a, "Yes."

"What's your name? We might as well get cozy." You looked at the male who was looking away. Was he still scared of you? Well, you had been a bit rash, but he would've beat around the bush! And you weren't looking for vague, nonsensical answers! His manner of speech was so...ninny? If ninny were an adjective, you would use that to describe his voice.

At the lack of response, you grew bitter. "Listen," you seethed, "I just asked for your name. It's not like I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp. And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop treating me like some delinquent." You shot him a glare, of which he only shivered at.

"P-please...please don't be mean to me. I've been in this tower my entire life. I-I don't know how to talk to outsiders..." He glanced at you, small tears in his eyes. You slapped yourself. "You're telling me you've never talked to anybody at all and have never stepped foot outside this tower?" How illogical was that? Wouldn't he have gone crazy by now?

"R-right. Mother doesn't permit me to go past the window." You felt a pang of guilt and pity for the male. He lived such an isolated life. Who could possibly become a functional human being living their whole life in a single room? You shuttered at the thought. You didn't know who his mother was, but she needed some hardcore schooling in the ways of parenting.

"...I'm sorry."

You bowed your head respectfully to him and gave a sincere apology. You now understood why he was so nervous around you. He had never conversed with anyone except his seemingly abusive mother. Not only had he been confined to a single room his entire life, but he was forced to believe that the whole world was evil. You needed to give him more patience than what you credited him.

His eyes gazed into your curiously. "I'm sorry for being so rude. You didn't have to heal me, you didn't have to be kind to me. Let's start over. My name is (Y/n), what's yours?" You offered a thin smile in hopes he'd open up a bit. His shoulders relaxed and he mumbled something under his breath. "Huh?" you questioned.

"Raphael. My name is Raphael."

He pursed his lips together as if he had just committed a grave sin. You patted the spot next to you comfortingly. "Well, Raphael, come and sit down. Let's get to know each other a bit more." He looked from you to the open space on the bed. He really was like a child. But you had to push through. You had to scrap your original plan of finding the dwarves. You wouldn't even get to warn them if you were dead or lost. You'd have to take this time to make a new plan. You had to hide from Nival. He most likely was looking for you. After all, he had professed his unyielding love for you as you were bleeding out. He must have been in a wild panic when he returned and you were missing.

You decided to shake your mind of the thought and focused now on the approaching Raphael. He wavered a bit before taking the open seat. His cheeks were flushed a deep red. His features were illuminated in the open sunlit window. His triangular jaw was clean shaven and youthful. It perplexed you. Such profound features on such a young person, but it suited him quite well. His eyes were also young, but weren't round like Nival's. Raphael's eyes were warm pools emerald green. They were far more comforting than Nival's.

"So, Raphael, tell me about yourself."

You peered up at him expectantly. "Well," he trailed off, "I live in this tower with my mother. I spend most of my time reading and painting. I also sew, but my handiwork is a bit sloppy and Mother doesn't always have enough money to afford new materials." You were honestly surprised. All the paintings on the walls - had he painted those?

"I've been working on this particular painting for a few months now. It's just past those purple curtains over there." He nudged his head in the direction of the wall adjacent to the both of you. There was a large, velvet drape covering the space. "You paint the walls?"

He nodded his head. "Yeah. It's relaxing, and Mother allows it so it's alright." You gave an eye roll at the mention of the unruly woman. "There is one thing I've always wanted to do though..." You gave a raised brow. He looked to the purple, velvet covering along the wall across from the both of you. "I want to see the lights."

"The lights?" You questioned. Was he talking about the stars? Or maybe fire? He gave a lopsided grin, his eyes going deep in thought. "Yeah. The lights..." He cleared his throat and shifted in his spot. "They appear outside the window in the far off distance every year on my birthday. It's been my dream since I was little to go and see them. I don't know what they are. Mother says they're bad, but I've been mesmerized with them for so long. How could something so pretty be dangerous?" He had a star-struck gaze. You found it cute. He had a dream. The poor kid was locked away in this lonely tower his entire life. Why couldn't he dream of going to see some floating lights?

There was silence.

Raphael let out a sigh and looked back to you. "What about you?...What happened?" He looked at the still blood stained shirt. You shied away. "I-I'm not even sure, myself. I had a friend I was staying with and he...he went crazy. It was really all so sudden. His step mother tried to kill him and he...he changed. I just thought it was because he perhaps wanted a distraction, or maybe he wanted to get back to his old self." You thought back to all the times he had told you to go rest and let him take over the chores. Were those supposed to have been warning signs? You shook your head.

"His step mother came back to kill him, but changed her sights to me. And that's how I got hurt."

Raphael placed a hand on your quivering shoulder. "I'm sorry...That all sounds so chaotic, I couldn't even imagine to guess how you're feeling." You gave a light, sarcastic chuckle. "It is, isn't it? That's why I ran away. I was trying to find the dwarves to warn them, but I found you instead." You let out a sigh and looked back out the window. It was a beautiful view, even from the bed.

"I know you need help, but I'm terribly sorry. Mother would have my head-" You dismissed him with a wave of your hand. "No, it's fine. Just let me camp out for a while and figure out a plan."

Raphael gave a curt nod and then a stiff silence overcame the room. "I need to sleep. I'm tired. Can I still take the bed?" You asked. You knew you were imposing, but he seemed understanding enough. You had to take the initiative in conversing with him. He didn't have the gull to say yes or no.

"Yeah, of course. I'll...I'll be over here if you need me." He nudged his head in the direction of one of the walls. Was he going to be painting? You gave a nod of acknowledgment and rolled over on your side. It felt off not having your injury tearing open and burning your skin. But the lack of pain only lulled you into a deep, comforting sleep.

You woke up with a jolt. A loud, echoing noise bellowed throughout the room. "Raphael?" You hurried up and out of the bed, chest heaving. You looked around the room and found him near the window. He was panting heavily and a frying pan was clutched tightly in his hands. You furrowed your brows.

"Raphael? What's wrong?"

You peered from over the curtains and found a figure lying on the floor. You gasped and went to scream, Raphael silencing you. "I-I-it was an accident! Please don't scream!" You saw his body was visibly trembling and his knuckles were white from handling the pan so tightly. "Wh-what happened? Who is this?" Your words were rushed. You quickly rushed to the person to see if they were alright, noting the feminine features on their face. It was a woman.

Raphael pulled you back. "I don't know...She just-she climbed up the tower and I panicked! She had a knife!" He shivered. The female appeared to be unconscious. "I-I hit her with my frying pan. It was the only weapon I had...She's not dead, is she?" You frowned. Raphael continued muttering nonsense as he began crying. He was so fearful that he had killed this woman. You pitied. He was nearly scared to death when meeting you, you could only imagine how fearful he was in seeing a potential criminal. You wrapped your arms around the male gingerly and combed your hands through his long tresses, trying not to get your hands tangled in the fine strands. "I'm sure she's not. It's alright. I'm sorry you had to face them alone. Let's get her up before she comes to, yeah?" You gave a thin smile and he only gave a meek nod.

"Alright, grab the chair for me. Oh, and some rope. I'll tie her up." You were clear in your instructions. Raphael obviously couldn't think. The poor guy looked like a lost puppy. You needed to see who this girl was before Raphael got to her. Perhaps she could help you.

Raphael rushed to grab said items and placed them in the center of the room. You lugged the woman towards the chair and lugged her over your shoulder. She wasn't particularly heavy, but you also weren't the strongest. You did note the limber in your joints however. It must have been Raphael's healing powers that had done that.

You grunted as you haphazardly leaned her into the chair. You held out your hand for the rope and Raphael placed the binding in your hand. "Did you see her approaching the tower? Or just when she was at the window?" You asked as you wrapped the rope around the girl's torso. Raphael hesitated. "Uh-I...I only saw her when she was climbing. I didn't know what to do, I-"

"It's alright. We just need to figure out why she's here and send her off, right? We need to make sure she hasn't brought some of her friends with her. She looks like a bandit. And bandits usually travel in groups." You tied a knot in the rope and dusted your sore hands. You sighed gazing at the sleeping woman. She was wearing clothes fit for an adventurer, but was disheveled like a crook. Your pursed your lips in thinking about where she could've come from. Had she been looking for a place to rob? But who would think to rob a tower? You thought this place was abandoned before you met Raphael. Nobody would think to just climb a tower. And had she not seen the door? Perhaps Raphael had locked it while you were asleep. But the sudden predicament you found yourself presently in perplexed you. What was this girl doing here?

"Hmm..."

Your eyes trailed over to the belt wrapped snugly around her waist. She had some pouches strapped onto it. You went to look through them. "U-um..she threw this when she saw me," Raphael muttered, handing you a leather hand bag. You thanked him and hastily opened it. Inside laid a bejeweled crown encrusted in silver gems, rubies, diamonds and more. It was plated in gold and looked far too grand to fit any normal human crown. "So she is a crook..."

You took the crown and inspected it. There was no engravings, no initials. You knew there were kingdoms nearby, but could this woman really have stolen from one of them? How could she have gotten away with such an intricate heist? And why would she want this crown?

"Is that..." Raphael looked at the dazzling piece of head wear. You nodded your head in confirmation. "Indeed. But why would someone want to steal a crown? Where did it come from?" Raphael tilted his head, his eyes widening. "These colors are from the kingdom of Corona. I've never been to the capital, but I've heard many things about the city. Their colors are red, white, and yellow. Their national symbol is the sun."

You whipped your head to him. "You know of this kingdom?" He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "O-only bits and pieces. Mother only told me those things in case any of their soldiers ever passed by. She says they're evil." You groaned in annoyance.

"Your mother says that everyone is evil. Where is this place?"

Raphael averted his eyes. "I-I don't know. Mother never told me that." You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. It was worth a shot. But even though Raphael didn't know where Corona was, this girl apparently did. Was she from Corona? Was she an outsider? What goal did she have in stealing from their palace? The thought of her pawning the precious jewel crossed your mind. But she'd have to be mildly stupid to do that. Nobody would simply accept this renowned gem for easy cash. She'd be locked up in a heart beat.

She could've been a kleptomaniac. If not for money or monetary gain, she could've stolen it for its vulnerability. Like a raccoon drawn to shimmering objects, perhaps she was attracted to exquisite jewels.

You shook your head to dismiss your thoughts. You wouldn't know until she woke up anyway. You turned to Raphael and gave a thumbs up. "She won't be getting out of those any time soon. Don't worry." Raphael smiled shakily. You went to sit down but hesitated upon seeing your bloodied garments. You looked back at the staggering male.

"Hey...Raphael?" His eyes met yours. You looked over his clothes. He had said he wasn't good at sewing, but if he had made the outfit he adorned, you'd beg to differ. The shirt was of fine silk and was a faded lavender color. It was a long sleeved shirt and looked tight-fitted, but open shoulder cuffs provided a bit of extra dexterity. His pants were a simple black, nothing too special. He didn't wear shoes, which you didn't judge. He had never had a use for them anyway.

The male tilted his head. "Y-yes, (Y/n)?" He fidgeted upon seeing your examining gaze.

"Do you have any spare clothes?"

[iamacrazybagel]

What if I Told You Fairy Tales Were Real? - Chapter 2: Bad Apple

(A/n) - Heyyy...so I kinda left this blog. But then I remembered I had this on here and saw that people actually were seeing it, so here's the next chapter! If you want a more updated version, I recommend heading over to my quotev. But without further ado, here's chapter 2!

Warning! Death and gore ahead!

You reached to grab another white, cotton sheet, taking the ends and clipping them on the line. A slight breeze blew past, lifting the edges of the cover. You pulled back the tufts of hair that threatened to block your view. You felt slightly chilly, adorning only a cut-off vest and loose pants. You had shown up with only your person, and Nival had insisted on providing you with a new wardrobe. But until he could sew you new attire, you were stuck wearing his usual wear. Some places fit loosely, some fit a bit too tight, but it worked. Nival had told you how he usually dawned baggy clothing because it was less constricting, and you had to admit he was right.

You pinned another sheet to the line. You needed to be productive while staying here. You couldn't let Nival do the housework by himself and cater to you. It would also help to ease your mind, seeing as your nerves had been a bit on the spritz. Getting outside and getting to work would be relaxing, you had told yourself. And so far, you hadn't experienced many problems. The sky was a bright and vivid blue. Clouds parted like plush cotton for a beautiful view of the sun. All diurnal creatures came out to greet the day. You had seen some squirrels hustle by, seemingly searching for some acorns. You had no complaints.

You peered from behind your now full line of sheets to see Nival pinning shirts on his. "I've finished this line. Can I help you with yours?" you asked as you bent to retrieve the now-empty basket. Nival appeared to have been caught off guard by your question but smiled. "Sure, but don't feel forced to. You can go back inside and rest if you need to."

You liked Nival. He was a caring individual and only made you comfortable. He never forced you to work, but he also encouraged you to push yourself. He wanted you to feel at home, and he was doing an amazing job at it. You could already consider him a friend, and it had only been about two weeks since you first arrived - well, crashed into their home.

"No, I've got a bit more energy left." You went to set your basket down inside the cottage and returned to help Nival. You came up next to him and took one of the baskets off of his hands. "It's a beautiful day," Nival said as another breeze blew in. His smooth, ebony tufts swayed in the wind. It gave him a rejuvenated look. You couldn't deny that he was an attractive man.

"It is," you agreed. You grabbed a red dress shirt and took a clothespin. You watched as Nival took his leisure in placing every piece along the line. You noticed he patted down each article down to smooth out the wrinkles. You took a mental note to mimic his motions. Placing the shirt on the line, you smoothed out the creases just as Nival had done.

"I do adore days like these," Nival started, "Back when I was younger, I'd play out beyond the garden without a care in the world. I'd always get scolded because my clothes would always be caked with dirt from rolling down the hill." He gave a light chuckle. You smiled at the image that danced around your head. It made you wonder what he looked like as a child. He was probably just as, if not more, adorable as he was now.

Speaking of, you didn't mean to pry but you were curious about Nival's past. Grumpy had said his mother was trying to kill him! Nival seemed too innocent for someone to harbor such a grudge against him, let alone his mother. If by asking him, maybe he could at least have a shoulder to lean on. You wanted him to trust you and be open with you. He was a very genuine guy, and he deserved to have someone there to listen to him.

"Hey, Nival..." You croaked out hesitantly. You reached down to grab another garment, a pair of denim slacks. You glanced to the male and found his gaze now on you, curious.

"Um, can you tell me more about yourself? As in, before you came to be with the dwarves." You bit your lip as you quickly turned away to pin the slacks to the line. Nival released a soft giggle. The lighthearted sound eased your nerves, knowing you hadn't pushed too far.

"Ah, well...I grew up in the Palace of Göttlichkeit. I never knew my mother, but I never knew loneliness. My father was ever-present in my youth, and then he found happiness in my stepmother, Erina Mirad." He paused in thought. You looked back to him to show you were listening. He gave a small hum.

"I spent most of my days outside playing. Though, when my father fell ill, I spent my time learning medicine and aiding in the chores. My stepmother said she wouldn't have a son who couldn't take care of himself - well, himself and his spouse. She was always on about marriage..." His voice dropped slightly. "But I always trusted her. If my father had fallen in love with her, I should pay her the same respect. She was only helping me to become a better man. At least, that's what I thought until...the huntsman came clean about her true feelings. I was shocked in all honesty," He finished almost longingly. You truly pitied him.

"And that's how you came to be here," you concluded. Nival gave a curt nod as he let out a steady breath. He went back to his task at hand. You stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder carefully. "Nival," you said, your eyes boring deep into his darkened blue irises, "Don't feel like you have to keep such a heavy burden locked away. You can always come to me if you need someone, I promise." You gave his shoulder a light squeeze and smiled thinly.

Nival gave a grateful smile and cupped your hand in his. "Thank you, (Y/n)..." You could see his eyes lighten with sincerity. They appeared more vivid and bright.

You hastily took your hand back and cleared your throat, realizing the endearing moment you both had shared. Your cheeks flushed a soft pink and you looked down to the nearly empty basket. You hated to leave, but your body was still sore. You did need to rest now. It was extremely frustrating having such a worthless body. You still hadn't a clue as to why you were like this. it was almost as if you hadn't used it for years! It wobbled sometimes, your legs would cave in and drop you to the ground. You had frightened Nival a few times when you had knocked into a wall or had fallen. You hated feeling like a burden.

"I...I should head inside. I'm not feeling the best," you said, apologizing for leaving him with the rest of the work. Nival dismissed your words with a smile. "Rest up. I'll be done in just a bit." He ushered you to go. You let out a laugh at his urgency, heading back inside the cottage to lay down. Nival watched your form retreat past the door, his smile turning to a slight grimace.

He was very concerned for you. You were the only person he had met aside from the huntsman that he had ever gotten close to. The fact that you still were recovering troubled him. He didn't like seeing you in such a state. If he could, he'd send for a doctor. But that would take far too long. And he honestly didn't want to leave you alone for days on end.

It also worried him that you didn't have any of your memories. You had told him you initially awoke in a foreign house just a little ways away from here. It disturbed him to think about the people who might have lived there. What if there were other people out there suffering just as you had?

Nival went to smooth out another shirt and a sigh escaped his lips. Perhaps, he thought hesitantly, I should make one of my special pies. Before his passing, Nival's father had enjoyed his desserts greatly. He had told him they worked wonders to make him feel better. He even went as far as to say that was the reason he had lived as long as he did, because of his sweets. So if it helped his father live a longer, happier life, perhaps it would do the same for you.

The only problem was, he would need to gather the ingredients. He didn't have many supplies in the cupboards for baking.

Nival continued to think, only coming out of his stupor when he heard the sound of leaves crushing beneath weary footsteps. He peered up from the ground and saw a figure beyond the pinned sheets. He looked back to the front door of the cottage and saw a glimpse of your figure going to lay down. He took careful strides past the lines and came face to face with a petite, shrouded woman. She hobbled along with a cane. Her body appeared unstable. Nival wondered how long she had been traveling.

"Ma'am, can I help you?" He rushed to her side and guided her away from the sashaying sheets. Her deep, sunken eyes peered up into his youthful ones. A gaped grin etched into her face, showing off the many wrinkles she had accumulated over the years. Thin, stringy grey hair framed her head and was pulled back into a short braid. Nival pulled a stool just a few feet away from the tree they stood under and placed it for her to sit. She thanked him and staggered to sit down. Her voice was raspy as if she were dehydrated.

"Could I trouble you for a glass of water, kind boy?"

Nival gave a nod. "Of course, stay here. I'll be right back." He helped the woman to place her items down and rushed to the cottage. He went to the kitchen to grab a wooden cup and rushed back outside, glancing at your sleeping form on the makeshift bedding he had prepared for you as he slipped by.

After filling the cup with the water from the well, he returned to the lady. "Here you go, ma'am." He offered her the glass and she took it gingerly. "Thank you, my boy. May I know your name?" She sipped from the glass hurriedly. Nival watched in concern.

"Um, Nival...Nival White. May I ask, what is a lady such as yourself doing out here? You'll hurt yourself!" He took the cup from her as she pushed it towards him. She looked down at her feet. "I'm just a humble old lady trying to sell some apples. Freshly picked from my orchard this morning!" She reached down to uncover the basket she had with her and pulled a shining, red apple from it. She held it out to the male.

"Please, won't you take one?" Her hand quivered as she held the fruit out to Nival. Nival frowned at the display. He needed apples for his pie, but he had no money to spare.

"I'm sorry but I can't."

The old woman's smile turned into a deep frown. She appeared greatly disturbed by his response. He felt terrible in denying a crippled lady his patronage, but he had no money to support her. He pursed his lips tightly.

"Then, consider it payment for my water, hm?"She urged the apple into his hand and kept her bony phalanges below his smooth, delicate palm. Nival looked at the apple, feeling oddly mesmerized by its vivacious hue. He hesitated.

"Honest," she said, urging him to take the plump fruit, "you can have a sack of three apples. Please, do this old lady the favor of doing that much." Her lips fell into a saddened frown and she gave a pitied look. Nival let out a sigh, taking the apple into his other hand.

"Alright, ma'am. I'll take three apples."

The woman released a shrill cackle. "Splendid! Please, to ensure they are of good quality, take a bite. I'd hate to leave you with rotten fruit..." Her voice came out sincere. Nival glanced from her to the apple. Her eyes trailed his every movement, it made him slightly uncomfortable, her eager eyes following even his rhythmic breaths. "Are-are you sure? You won't make any fare by giving away your merchandise for free." Nival felt the situation odd, but he didn't want to upset the sweet woman.

"Oh, please. I have plenty back home." She chuckled and widened her eyes in expectancy.

Nival brought the apple closer to his lips, feeling perturbed by the woman's excited eyes. He took a careful bite from the treat, noting the bitter taste that filled his mouth. He didn't want to be disrespectful, so he choked the apple down and gasped at the sudden restriction of his throat. A grand cackle was heard from the crippled woman as she jumped from her seat, almost animated. She pranced around the gaping prince as he struggled for breath. Nival grabbed at his throat as tears welled in his eyes. The woman sent him a wicked look, bending down to meet his glossy orbs.

"Serves you right, boy. You should've known better than to take candy from strangers!" And so she went back to laughing, dancing as she scurried off. As Nival's vision blurred, he only thought about his own stupidity. He would die here for his naivety. He wondered why his life had to be this way. He never had the chance to find love, to enjoy the little things, and now he never would.

Nival's eyes closed and he dropped to the ground, a thud sounding out and leaves crushing beneath his sudden weight. The sound wouldn't be heard by anyone.

Your eyes fluttered open. It was dark, and no light came from outside, catching you off guard. You had to have been asleep for quite some time for nightfall to breathe upon the land. Though your body felt much better after resting up.

You pulled the covers from over you and stretched your limbs, letting out a groan. Your head swiveled from side to side. Was Nival still outside? Surely he wasn't.

You rose from your spot on the bed and walked around the cottage. You glanced into the kitchen and found no trace of the male. There wasn't even a pot being prepped for supper on the stove. That was peculiar. It was now nightfall. Nival always put dinner on in the afternoon.

"Nival?" you called out. You looked down the small hallway that led to the washroom, finding the door to be open and no light coming from inside. You furrowed your eyebrows, perplexed. "Nival!" you called out a bit louder. Still, there was no response. You decided to venture outside. Perhaps he was out picking berries and couldn't hear you. But he would tell you if he had planned to do that, wouldn't he?

Your eyes scanned the vicinity, your breath hitching as you locked onto a foreign entity out by the tree. Rushing out to the crooked tree, you gasped in finding Nival lying there on the ground. His eyes were shut and his lips parted. His body was warped into an unnatural position. You let out a shrill scream. Tears welled in your eyes.

"Nival! Nival! Hey! Nival!"

You knelt and patted his person down, checking for any wound or weapon. "Nival, wake up! I need you to wake up!" You managed to lift his upper torso and cradled his chest in your arms. You swept his bangs from his forehead and felt for a fever. His face appeared flushed, but he didn't feel warm. His skin was paling.

"Nival, I need you to wake up! Please!" You looked for any sign of breath, but there was none. You felt your lips tremble. Glancing back at the cottage, you thought about lugging him back inside. You had to get him inside.

"Come on, please..." You wiped at your face and sniffed. Taking hold of his arms you stood to your feet and managed to get his towering frame to lean against your own. "H-how long have you been out here...?" you questioned to the unconscious male guiltily. You huffed as you made to step backward.

You muttered apologies and the like as you went. Nival never awoke to your cries.

"Almost there," you heaved as you crossed into the door, spotting the beds just a few feet away. His body was getting taxing on your own, but you successfully managed to set him down onto one of the small beds. You cushioned his head with a pillow and went to wipe the sweat from your palms. Looking around frantically you found that he would have enough room if you combined all seven beds. You pulled your sleeves up and rushed to push the end-bed closer to the male, conjoining the others to make rigid bedding.

"Alright, Nival. Come on..." You crawled over the humps and took hold of his arms, tugging to bring his body closer. His body now lay limp across all seven beds. You hurried to cushion his neck with all pillows in arm's reach.

After situating his body onto the beds you ran to get a bowl of water and a rag. When you ran outside to fetch the water, you noted the darkness that enveloped you. You didn't know when the dwarves would be home. You bit your lip anxiously and rushed back inside.

"I'm so stupid. I'm sorry, Nival. I shouldn't have left you out there alone!" You wrung the water from the cloth and draped it across his forehead, hoping it would do anything. He didn't stir.

"Nival..."

Your choked sobs fell on deaf ears as you continued to drape the moist towelette across his paling face.

You leaned back in your seat, your eyes dulled and your face beaten. Nival still hasn't even let out a breath. You knew he was gone. You didn't want to accept it. He was only doing laundry! How could he have been killed?

You could only assume it was foul play. Nival could not have died from natural causes. He was in shape, his body was well balanced. He ate healthily, he washed up every day. There was no other plausible conclusion other than murder. If you weren't as exhausted as you were, you'd probably be in a blind rage. The thought of someone harming Nival, harming your friend, made your skin crawl and your blood gurgle and bubble. Nival hadn't done anything to a single person. He only wanted to live out the rest of his days away from his abusive and psychotic stepmother!

You paused. His stepmother was trying to kill him. Could it be that she had found him this deep in the woods? But how? She lived miles away in a palace according to Nival. You weren't even sure how to navigate these woods, and apparently, neither was Nival. He had told you he stumbled upon this cottage by accident as well. So how could she have found out where he was?

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your head. You had to focus on Nival. You would worry about his wicked stepmother later.

The door suddenly opened and you whipped your head to see the homeowners marching in, hanging their caps atop the coat rack. Doc looked around quizzically, pausing when he found you sitting by a sleeping Nival. He approached you, furrowing his bushy brows as he witnessed the scene.

"What happened?" he inquired, but it came out strained. He could see the red beneath your eyes and the troubled look you gave him. The others crowded around, pushing and shoving as they did.

"H-he's....Nival's-Ni-val's dead!" You coughed violently as you began another wail of sobs. You threw your hands to your face to shield yourself from the men's shocked eyes. They all gasped and shouted, demanding to see the man that occupied the space beside them. Doc looked from you to Nival, not wanting to believe it.

Without thinking you wrapped your arms around the short man, crying into the crook of his neck. "Please, D-Doc! Please help him!" You sniffed and sobbed. Doc patted your back and slowly shushed your cries. "I'll see what I can do, but you have to let me see him." You nodded your head and wiped away your remaining tears, stepping back to give him room.

Doc checked his wrists, noting how stiff they were. There was no pulse, and as he pressed his ear to Nival's chest, he found no heartbeat or breath to be present either. Nival truly was dead. But how?

Doc attempted to loosen Nival's joints and warmed his hands with his own. He wasn't sure what to do, in earnest. He could only treat sick people, and he wasn't a real doctor at all. He only knew basic medicines and herbs to cure a common cold. He couldn't bring someone back from the dead.

"I..." his voice was wobbly, "I can't help him...his body isn't reacting to the manual stimulation or heat. I-he-he's gone..." Doc hung his head low as everyone began to break out into sobs. "I'm sorry..."

"Curse that wretched witch! We'll burn her alive!"

Eyes dry and raw, you gazed at the male that lay in the open casket. His features were pristine. He had no flaws. Even in death, he was beautiful.

The dwarves all lined up to place their flowers inside the casket. They were all beautiful bouquets of lilies, violets, and daisies. In your own hands, you held close a single rose. You had found it nearby, the vibrant red hue embellishing it beckoning you to take it, and so you did. Only the best of flowers could honor such an amazing person.

You felt your hands grow clammy. You didn't know how you could do this. Nival didn't deserve to die. He should've been able to live his life out how he wanted to. He deserved at least that much.

One by one each of the dwarves placed their parting gifts in the casket. They spoke a few words and took their time in parting with the male. Sleepy was ahead of you. And you noticed that despite his dazed state, he did not waver. He refused to sleep, and you held high respect for the man.

As Sleepy proceeded, he placed his bouquet of lilies and dandelions near Nival's shoulder. He spoke few words but took his time in silently mourning his fallen friend.

He sniffed and turned to look at you, scooting out of the way to make room for you. You now gazed upon his spectacular features. Up close, he was immaculate. His outfit was replaced with a suit. The navy blue jacket and pants paired well together and didn't clash with the flowers that surrounded him. The setting was almost perfect. The only thing that wasn't was the man lying dead in the casket. You quickly wiped away your incoming tears.

"Nival," you started, "...thank you for being such a great friend. Thank you for everything you have done for me! You wanted to help me when you didn't even know who I was. Why can't the rest of the world be like you, Nival?" You bit back your sobs and looked down at his neatly folded hands. Even they were perfect.

You took one of them and tucked the rose between them.

You couldn't help the flood of emotions that surfaced and threw your arms around your friend. Your arms pressed into his neck as his head craned back. You shuddered at the feeling of holding a lifeless body in your arms, and only squeezed tighter at the thought. If Nival could feel your warmth, if he could feel the love you were sending out to him, you would do so with this hug.

As you choked out apologies and words of longing you felt the suspension of Nival's body beneath you. His chest convulsed and a sudden fit of coughing ripped you from his form. Eyes wide, you now gazed upon the animated version of Nival White. He coughed and wheezed. Was - was Nival alive?

Nival promptly sat up and gave a powerful wack to his chest, a black, foreign object spewing from his mouth. Was that...was it a seed? You jumped back as his eyes looked up at you. He gave a goofy grin, and you felt a wave of anger wash over you.

"You-you're alive! But you were dead!" you screamed. You didn't know what to feel. Conflicted with the relief that he was alive and frustrated upon knowing he might not have been dead at all, you could only stand there in awe. Behind you, the dwarves could only stand in silence at the scene before them.

Nival blinked lazily, tilting his head. "I...what?" He appeared to be clueless. He looked at the scene around him, his eyes growing in realization.

"The-the old woman! She poisoned me, I know it!"

"Old woman?" you questioned. You glanced back at the seed that he had coughed up. Was that what he was referring to?

"An old woman came wanting to give me some apples! I didn't expect her to be a witch..." Nival rubbed his tender throat, feeling the soreness of it. He went to stand up, needing your assistance to balance. "Nival..." you said through bleary eyes. He didn't meet your gaze, his cheeks flushing a shade of pink. You turned to look at the dwarves.

"We need to get him inside before that witch comes back."

You guided Nival's arm to wrap around your neck and kept a tight hold on his wrist. "Can you walk?" You asked, your voice laced with concern. Nival looked down at his feet and managed to move them in a staggering path. You assured him you would help him and wobbled up to the cottage. The dwarves had rushed inside to set the beds all together like you had done yesterday and pillows were placed in every crevice. You lugged Nival past the door and onto the beds. Dopey pushed the door closed and slid the lock in place.

"Thank you," Nival said as you helped him slide closer onto the bedding arrangement. You looked over his body once man, noting the more apparent color in his face. "Oh, you must be cold!" You turned to the dwarves and beckoned for more sheets. The scene was chaos. Everyone dashed every which way, gathering anything that could be used as a blanket.

You draped each layer of cotton onto Nival and tucked the edges in carefully. He almost looked like a caterpillar wrapped in its cocoon. You smiled. Nival turned his head away from your gaze. "I'm not a child, you know..." His cheeks puffed and he pursed his lips. You only chuckled. He seemed to be enjoying the attention and treatment.

"Well, get used to it. It's not every day your friend comes back from the dead." You gave his hair a good ruffle. Nival only squirmed at your touch.

As you tucked in the last blanket, the others came near. You chuckled at the now muffled Nival. He sent you a small, playful glare and struggled to break free. He soon found it fruitless and caved in, allowing you to fluff the pillows his head rested on while the others watched.

"I can take care of the rest," you said to the dwarves. They had been up all night crying and spent the entire day constructing the casket. They had done enough.

Doc raised his brows. "Are you sure? We can-" You waved him off, smiling. "No, it's fine. You all get some rest. I can stay up with him." You sat down next to Nival's bundled form and ushered the others to go. They did so gratefully and set up their separate sleeping arrangements for the night - well, tried to.

"Don't tell me you're going to sleep in the cupboard!" you scolded Happy as he attempted to fit inside one of the vacant cupboards. His cheeks flushed and he slowly crawled out of the space. "Um...it's not as stiff as you'd think," he said rather bashfully. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

You marched into the hallway and scrounged around for any sheets. You pursed your lips in finding none. Though there were plenty of loose shirts and old, torn pieces of cloth. It would have to do.

You hurried back with the separate pieces of fabric and laid them out. "I'll make you all hammocks to sleep in for now. Will the be alright?" You peered up at the group and saw only nods and curious gazes. You set to work.

"(Y/n), if you'll let me out I can help-" You shot Nival a sharp glare. "Not a chance, pretty boy. You're staying right where you are. Don't even think about leaving those blankets." Nival let out a small whimper and you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. Why did he have to be so adorable?

"Just get some rest, Nival."

You stirred as you began to wake up. The sun shined through the window and threatened your groggy eyes. You groaned and sat up, wondering how long you had been asleep. You noticed that Nival wasn't beside you. You and he both occupied the beds while the dwarves took the makeshift hammocks. But it seemed you were the only one in the house now.

You wondered if Nival was in the kitchen. He often tried to cook for you while you were out doing the other chores. You would scold him for not taking that time to rest. He was always pushing himself. It made you worry for him.

Rising from the bed you peered into the walkway and found the kitchen empty. It seemed you were the only one inside. You knitted your eyebrows together. Was Nival trying to do the laundry again?

Just as he tried to cook he also did the laundry. There was no end to his madness it seemed. You only wanted him to rest, how did he not understand that? Whenever he wasn't laying down or was out doing something out of your sight it made you panic. And every time you would scold him he would simply smile and give a toothy grin. It almost seemed he liked you berating him.

"Nival," you called out. There was no response. He had to be outside then.

Just as you were about to open the door it flew open and made you jump back. In came Nival clad in a shall and holding a couple of baskets. He paused in seeing your figure and beamed a bright smile.

"(Y/n), you're awake! How did you sleep?"

He closed the door behind him and traversed into the kitchen. You followed him down the hall, perplexed. "Um...what's going on? I wake up and you're coming back from...picking berries?" You inquired, peeking into the baskets he had set down. Nival chuckled.

"You needed the rest. And I wanted to gather ingredients for a pie. Why don't you let me treat you? You've done so much for me, I just want you to relax." He grabbed a few bowls and set them on the counter. You rubbed your temples in frustration.

"I would be able to relax if you would just do what I asked you to do! Nival, I'm worried about you!" You left the basket and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. You frowned. "Nival, you keep pushing yourself too hard. Why don't you just rest? If you're not careful, that stupid witch might come back and try to kill you again. Do you want to take that chance?"

Nival stayed silent, only taking your hand and offering an apologetic smile. "(Y/n), I know you care about me. You'll never know how much it means to have someone like you worry about someone like me. But I care about you just as much, if not more. Besides, I feel better when I'm being useful. It gives me a purpose. Please let me do this." He squeezed your hand in assurance. You felt your face heat up at his words. Not only did he have a pretty face, but he was also smooth with words as well.

"F-fine...but don't run off somewhere without telling me first, alright? You scared me."

Nival grinned and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "I promise! I'm sorry I scared you." You both laughed at the sweet moment. You ruffled his hair and smirked. "Don't think I'm not still mad at you though!" Nival put his hand to his heart and gasped. "Mad? Whatever shall I do?"

You rolled your eyes at his antics and passed into the main area again, going to lay back down. "Since you are back with your ingredients and plan on making some food, I'll go back to sleep. I couldn't sleep last night for you kicking me all night!" You took your blanket and sat back down on the bed. Nival rummaged around the kitchen and came out with an empty basket.

"Alright," he laughed, "I need to get some more blueberries from out-back. It'll just take me a few minutes, I promise." He gave a wink and headed out the door. You only grumbled and turned away on the bed.

The door closed and you tried to fall asleep. Though your eyes were dreary you couldn't rest. You were worried. You were worried about Nival. You were worried about yourself. You still felt a bit off. But you wouldn't say anything to Nival about it. The man would try to force you into a straight jacket!

You fluffed the pillow your head laid on and sighed.

Just as you were about to get comfortable the door creaked open. You hummed. "Nival? Did you forget something?" You waited for a response. Upon receiving silence you knitted your eyebrows and turned around. The room was empty. Did Nival not close the door entirely?

You uncovered yourself and went to shut the door, but were cut off by an arm reaching for your neck. Someone pulled you back and you panicked. The hand that wrapped itself around your neck was old and wrinkly, the nails were elongated and chipped. Feeling the skin against your neck sent shivers down your spine.

A low cackle sounded by your ear. "So you're the one who foiled my plans?" The voice was old and raspy. You reached for her arm and tore away from her grip. For an old woman, she had immense strength. Turning around you now had a full look at the witch who had poisoned Nival. You sent her a scowl.

"Oh, did I say something wrong? Tsk, tsk. No matter, I'll wipe that look right off your ugly face!" She drew a dagger from her belt and swatted at you. You dodged her attack and staggered back.

"Only I can be the fairest in this world! That wretched boy has brought me nothing but grief and agony! My stupid huntsman couldn't kill him, so I will! But first," she threw another attack your way. You managed to dodge the knife's blow but lost your balance and fell. "I have to get rid of you!"

Like a bullet to the head, it hit you. This was the evil queen. But...she was an old woman! Had she changed her appearance to dodge suspicion? Such a vile woman! You had to protect Nival.

You looked around to try to find anything you could use as a weapon. The closest thing to you was the butcher's knife on the kitchen counter. But the old hag was just above you. You couldn't dodge her attack and grab your weapon.

You bit your lip and looked down at her feet. Perhaps you could knock her down and run for the knife.

Deciding to go with that plan you swept your foot under her's. She landed on her back with a thud. You quickly scampered up and made for the kitchen, but felt a sharp pain in your shoulder blade. Your eyes widened and you released a shrill cry of agony. You cried as the dagger was twisted and plunged deeper into your muscles.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you sobbed at the pain. You heard the door burst open and managed to steal a glance at a frantic Nival. You paled.

"Nival! Don't!-"

"Ah, Nival! So glad you could join us!" The old woman laughed and plunged the knife past your chest. Your breath hitched and you toppled to the ground. Your eyes clouded over with tears as the pain seeped in. Blood pooled onto the floor and you felt nauseous.

"You d*mn b*tch!"

You heard noises akin to furniture being knocked over. Then you only heard Nival's voice through gritted teeth, "How dare you hurt them?! Your life is mine now!" You heard his battle cry, and you could only hope he wouldn't lose. You didn't want him to die.

"Niv-al...ru-n."

Your voice came out too quiet for either party to hear you. You wanted Nival to just run, to forget about you, and to just leave. He didn't deserve this.

And you didn't want to see him get tainted with someone else's blood. He was not a killer. You felt sick just thinking about it.

"I'll kill you ten-fold for even thinking about hurting (Y/n)!"

It repulsed you. He needed to ground himself. You weren't dead. You'd live - most likely. He needed to book it.

"Why can I not have a single person in this world to love?! Huh?! Why are you so dead-set on getting rid of any chance at happiness I have, Mother?!" Aside from his screams, you could only hear the woman crying out for him to stop.

You then heard an audible crack and a gut-wrenching scream came from the woman. "You filthy spawn of the Devil!" Her voice was shrill and pained. Another crack resounded, and she cried out more. You could only assume he was breaking her limbs, excruciating pain to endure.

You didn't expect Nival to go to such an extreme. He seemed too innocent and carefree to even think about harming anybody.

Nival soon managed to break every limb. You heard his footsteps draw near your still form. He rolled you onto your side. You now saw how disheveled his face was, sweat practically dripping from his chin. "(Y/n), you're going to be alright. I promise I won't let anything else happen to you."

He brushed away the dirt and dust from your face before going to untie his belt. "Here," he said, holding the leather piece up to your face, "bite down on this while I draw the dagger from your wound. I'm sorry, but it will hurt." You wanted to tell him not to. You didn't want to go through that pain. But it had to be done.

You bit down on the piece of leather and whimpered as Nival took hold of the dagger. You sobbed uncontrollably as he only gripped onto its handle tightly. He quickly pulled the blade from your skin and you let out a deafening scream. Cries left your lips as you turned onto your back, trying to rid yourself of the pain. Nival cradled your form in his arms and ran his hand through your hair. "I-I'm sorry, (Y/n)..."

He pulled away and looked at your still crying eyes. He gave a sincere smile and placed a kiss on your tear-stained cheek. "Just...let me deal with this nuisance and we'll be on our way to a doctor, I promise." He caressed your face lovingly and took the bloodied dagger, looking at it distastefully.

"Now, die, you b*tch."

Nival returned to the old woman who had been rendered unconscious. He plunged the knife into every crevice of her body. "For taking my father away from me!" he flew it into her thigh. "For ruining my childhood!" He pierced her through the abdomen. You couldn't watch. It was too painful.

"For ruining my life!"

He continued to slash at the now limp corpse. He reveled in his sick torture for what seemed to be an eternity until he dealt her the last blow, directly through the skull. "And for trying to take away my happiness!"

Hearing the eerily sick silence only put you on edge. You heard Nival's labored breathing and he dropped the dagger. You managed to slide yourself against the wall and sat up, looking at the horrific display before you.

The old woman lay by the beds, blood pooling everywhere around her. Her arms and legs were bent abnormally. Her neck was twisted, facing her back. It made you sick.

"(Y/n)...I'm sorry I lost my temper..."

Nival came over to you. You gasped as he attempted to wrap his arms around you. He pulled back, a hard frown adorning his lips. "What's wrong?"

"Nival, you just...you just murdered your mother! Have you no remorse?!" You screamed. Nival only scowled.

"No, I don't. She tried to take my life many a time before, why should I feel guilty for taking her's?" His eyes turned dark and hollow. You grew scared at the sight. He tried to take your hands in his bloodied ones but you ripped them away. He gave a concerned look.

"(Y/n), it's alright. I've killed her. She won't hurt you now."

You started shaking in fear. Nival looked different. He looked deranged.

"You know, (Y/n)," Nival said, kneeling before you, "I was willing to let it slide that she wanted me gone. But...she tried to hurt you. I...I love you, (Y/n). You make me feel...so many emotions. I-I can't imagine a world without you in it. And she tried to take that happiness, that love away from me...So she had to die."

His lips curved into a smile. His eyes held nothing but endearment. You didn't understand. He was mad! Nival just killed someone and was professing his love to you. You had to get away from him. You could not be around him in this state. But how could you distract him long enough to escape?

Your eyes peered over to the dead woman that lay just a few feet away. Her pooling blood trickled closer. You swallowed down your saliva and closed your eyes tightly, hoping that your next moves would work.

"N-Nival..." You called out meekly. He hummed at your choked cry. "Can-can you please...can you please take her body outside...? I-I can't stand the smell of the blood..." You tensed as Nival ran his hand down your head gingerly.

"Of course. I'm sorry."

You released a shaky breath as he got up from his place on the floor. "You'll be alright while I'm gone, right? We'll head straight for a doctor when I return." Nival pulled up his sleeves and took hold of the woman's broken legs. You winced.

"Y-yes. I'll be fine. Thank you..."

Nival then began lugging the dead body towards the door. You couldn't bear to look at the scene. Though the woman did try to kill you, you were deeply disturbed by the way she was dealt in. You heard the sliding of her limp corpse gliding across the wooden floor. You had to stomach down the bile that threatened to rise.

You watched as Nival made his way outside, dragging the old woman. He sent you a glance of concern before making his way out of sight. He was going left. Would he go to the back of the cottage to dispose of her?

You waited a few minutes. Once you could no longer hear Nival dragging the corpse you tried to lift yourself onto your feet. "Ngh," you cried. It was painful to stand.

"Come on, (Y/n)..."

You seethed as you grabbed a hold of the side table next to you. You just had to get to the door and you were free. You groaned as you managed to slide yourself up the wall. Heaving a deep breath you trudged to the door. Your heart raced. You hoped Nival wasn't just around the corner.

Peering beyond the door, you were greeted with an empty yard. So he did go out-back. You didn't hesitate and used all your strength to bolt down the yard. You didn't care where you went, just as long as Nival couldn't find you. Your wound was still bleeding, but you had to bite back the pain. You had to get to safety.

But then you thought about the dwarves. They were still in the mines. What would happen when they go back home? You didn't think Nival would hurt them, but you didn't like the idea of them not knowing about his...tantrum. You had to warn them. But you weren't sure where the mines were.

You looked up at the sky and saw that there was still half the day left. You could find them. You had to.

"Come on, (Y/n)."

[iamacrazybagel]

What if I Told You Fairy Tales Were Real?

Waking up in a house belonging to three fairies was certainly peculiar, but not as bewildering as your past...

Chapter 1 - HI-HO

Your body ached. It felt stiff, as if your joints were locked in placed. You couldn't lift yourself up. Your eyes felt unnervingly crusted. What had happened? You felt a wave of panic cover your form.

After some tug-of-war with your eyes they peeled open. Your vision was blurred, almost that of an alcoholic coming down from a binge. And you had the headache to match.

You blinked a few times and finally your eyes adjusted to the atmosphere. You were staring up at a wooden, weathered ceiling. Leaves and vines protruded from between the crevices. You squinted your still crusty eyes.

"Mph!"

You tried to move your arm to wipe your face off but found it almost felt glued to the bed you were on. You flexed your muscles and gave it a few minutes. What had happened to you? You felt horrible.

You slowly moved your hand to wipe the crusting in your eyes. You sighed. Your other limbs needed the same treatment.

Some time later you had managed to sit up and looked around. The place you were in seemed quite cozy. You could see a bit of sunshine peeking through the haphazardly boarded up windows. You furrowed your brows at the work. Who would board up their windows?

"Okay, (Y/n)....up and at 'em...."

You attempted to heave yourself up and would've fallen had you not taken hold of a sturdy, wooden beam beside you. You glances around once more. You paused.

Where were you?

Oddly enough, you felt the place to be familiar, but almost nostalgically. It felt nice and comforting. Though, you still felt on edge.

Was anyone here?

You had discovered your voice was very hoarse. It felt as if you were hacking up hairballs with pneumonia building up. Letting out a distressed groan, you attempted to clear your throat.

"He...llo?"

Stupid, you thought. You wouldn't get a response with that voice. Someone would've mistaken you for a rat.

"Uh....hello?" You called out a bit louder. Still, no answer. You felt very uncomfortable. Did this mean you were alone?

Then how did you get here?

Body sore, you limped further into what appeared to be a dining area. A fair sized, circular table stood before you, five seats adorning each corner. It looked quite cramped.

You looked the other way and found a small kitchen nook. A small cart held some perishables and some now molded bread. A chest lay sitting on the counter. You looked inside. There was meat, but you quickly pulled back at the rancid smell. Maggots and flies had infested the container. It also appeared to be full of water. Had there been ice in its place before?

You ventured further and found other items that were, of course, expired. It gave you an unsettling vibe, being around all this rotting food. Whoever lived here either didn't know how to cook or had left long ago. You preferred to believe the latter.

The house seemed to actually be a small cottage. Judging by the size of the kitchen and dining area, it was made to house probably no more than two people. Though what disturbed you were the five ominous seats staring right back at you.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. You turned to exit the space and dwelled on if you should explore or not. You still didn't know if you were alone, and the only way to find out would be to look.

Going down the narrow hallway, you found three rooms. You poked your head into each one and found your besting heart steady at the vacancy.

Deciding to investigate further, you peered into the room on the left. It had a small, twin sized, plush mattress. The bad was made up delicately. You counted a total of seven pillows crammed at the head dress. Faded green sheets adorned the bed. A window resided above the bed, and light was visible. This window wasn't boarded up. The only thing was, mass amounts of ivy covered the outer edge, so there was no real need for boards.

There was a small closet to the right side of the room and you peered inside. There were some large shirts, all made from cotton and (sloppily) hand-sewn. Some boots and sandals lay on the floor of the closet. Inside also was a toy chest, dolls and trinkets jetting out. You were perplexed. Children's toys in a seemingly adult room?

You backed away from the small space and exited the room entirely, noting the small film of dust in the air. You now gazed upon the other two rooms. From first glance they appeared similar with the exception of the beds.

You walked into the one on your left. Two beds were placed on either side of the room and a small chest of drawers was placed before the window that was, unsurprisingly, boarded up. A closet stood facing one of the beds and you peeked inside, noting the array of red and blue dresses. They all seemed tailored to a child's size, or a very petit person at least. Black dress shoes dawned the floor below. Some miscellaneous boxes were on a shelf atop the hung clothes. You decided not to even attempt to pull them down. Your body was shaking by just standing.

The beds were made up similarly, both fixed with faded, green sheets and two pillows for each head dress. You wondered about the surplus in pillows in the other room.

Finding your curiosity satiated you then entered the next room, but found it to be the same as the one next to it, only messier. Some clothes lay about and shoes weren't put up. The very few clothes hanging up were bright green. The bed had a lazily draped sheet over it and two pillows. The window sat to the side of the bed, and hardly any sunlight came through the boards.

You now knew how many people lived here. You counted four beds. But that fifth chair still perturbed you.

Turning on your heel you exited the room. You bit your lip as you passed the dining hall and into the space you initially resided. It appeared to be a comfort zone, and you woke up laying on a small, makeshift bedding against a wide windowsill. It wasn't a bed at all really. It was more of a bench that was fixed into a bed.

The white, cotton blanket you had had was a stark contrast to the faded, green sheets the others had. Your pillows were plush and cushion seemed to angle the corners of your body - before you had woken up.

Now feeling comforted in that you were alone, you peered between the small cracks in the boards. You only saw forestry. Trees seemed to engulf the land around you, and the greenest grass you had ever seen swayed in the gentle breeze.

But why did it feel so melancholic?

You sighed and decided to stretch your limbs. Releasing a grunt, you gazed around to look for a possible exit. A door stood right next to the dining area. Would it be unlocked?

You went to take hold of the knob and slowly turned it, noting how silly you were being. It clicked and then you came face to face with the bright, blue sky. You shied away from it, feeling your head pounding.

"Sh*t...!"

You winced in pain. Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and exposed yourself to the outside world.

The sky's hue dimmed ever so slightly and you could see the beautiful terrain before you. Great pines and other tall trees greeted you. A small breeze passed by and you felt just a tad bit better.

Ahead of you laid a stone path. Steadying your breathing you stepped out of the house and walked down the path. A small, Jagged fence rose from the ground. Some bushes sprouted nearby and a garden resided to your right. Just who exactly lived here?

Turning to gaze at the building, you saw that you were correct. It was simply a quaint, little cottage. Foliage sprang from every corner and leaked inside. It looked abandoned.

But who would leave you in an abandoned cottage?

You decided not to dwell much further. You really needed to figure out where you were. And that meant finding somebody, as much as you detested.

Turning back around to leave, you thought about which direction to start in. It looked to be about midday, so you'd have a good amount of light before you'd need to set up camp.

"Let's go....south," You said, seeing the sun's rays beaming from the right. You charged ahead of you and into the thicket of trees.

"I hope I don't get lost..."

Your arms shivered as you walked down the winding path. Dusk had finally swept the horizon and was fading out. You weren't sure of where you were, but the land was very chilly at night.

You had spent hours walking aimlessly, hoping you'd find someone whom you could question. During this time you did some hard deliberation.

The only information you seemed to know were that of your identity and your body's very noticeable vulnerability. You weren't sure where or when you fell asleep to have felt so stiff. Even hours after your awakening you ached. It boggled you. You had no memory it seemed, just that of your person.

(Y/n) (M/n) (L/n) - this was your name. Aside from this information, you had none. You didn't remember your date or birth, your home, nor the people of whom the cottage belonged to. But you were going to get answers.

As the last bit of light perished from the sky, you heard the caws of the crows and the hoots of the owls. The noise of cicadas diminished and was replaced with the call of crickets and the like. The air grew crisp, and a small puff of fog flew before you. You breathed out again. It was cold.

You only had a simple long sleeves shirt and some dress pants on. The material was quite thin. You rubbed your arms together for warmth.

Your head whipped to the side as you heard footsteps. You gasped. Expecting a human to come into view, you were sorely disappointed and frightened when a bear came out. It sniffed the air until its eyes landed on your still form.

Would it attack you? That didn't appear to be a likely scenario. The bear only gazed quizzically into your eyes.

Its smooth fur shimmered from the illuminated moon. It dazzled you with its movements.

As it approached you, it sniffed your body. It came up to your face and wafted your hair. The act sent shivers down your spine. And then you let out an obnoxious sneeze, alerting the bear.

It roared and boasted its fangs at you. Your eyes grew twice their size and you sprinted down the winding path, now sure that the bear was after you.

Heavy steps dashed just meters behind you. You peered over your shoulder and squeaked when the bear was now just a single meter away. It could swat at you and graze your arm.

Your body ached and burned. You lost your footing, tripping over a tree root on the ground before you. You fell with a thud and found yourself curled into a ball, rolling down hill as if you were a rolly-polly.

The world appeared to be spinning and it didn't cease until you crashed a minute later. You felt your vision double and you clutched your throbbing head. You felt the dirt now caked onto your skin and clothes. Loose twigs were lodged inside your hair. You attempted to hoist yourself up, hitting the ground with a huff.

Your vision started fading and you felt nauseous. As you laid back your eyes closed, embracing the impeding darkness.

"I'm....sorry...."

You awoke to the feeling of cold water against your temples. You winced as some met your eyes. You could hear the sound of water sloshing in a bowl. Fluttering your eyes open you were met with the sight of a room and a man wringing water from a cloth.

You instantly were alerted at the male's presence. Your body went stiff. Where were you? Your mind raced with hundreds of questions. Your breath hitched as he meddled with the cloth. Was he applying cold water to your face? The sudden thought of this intruder - or invader touching you nauseated you.

You grunted as you tried to sit up. You were dazed. The last thing you remembered was passing out in the woods. How did this man find you? And who was he?

Had he taken you? Was it the same day? How long had you slept?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the melodious humming of the male. His voice was calm and alluring. You felt all the more sick.

At your haste to move, his eyes met yours. His eyebrows shot up and he put the washcloth down.

"You're awake! How do you feel?"

His voice was smooth. It wasn't deep or masculine, but wasn't gratingly high either. It was soft and almost comforting.

You eyed him suspiciously. You still didn't know who he was. You skimmed over his person. He wore a white, cotton vest with a laced chest opening. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and you noted the lack of body hair he appeared to have. He must have been young. It could have been possible he simply lacked enough testosterone. Though his face appeared youthful with few blemishes. His ebony hair was well-put together and reached just to his shoulders, a few loose strands fanning across his face. His eyes were a deep, mesmerizing blue. They were doe-like. Over all, his appearance was almost feminine, but he carried himself that of a man.

He noticed your intense stare and recoiled into himself. "Um," he pursed his lips together, "I suppose you may be wondering what exactly is happening. Fair enough..." He went to grab the washcloth he was wringing before and draped it into some clean water, placing it gingerly over your forehead. You didn't notice how flushed your face was until you felt the refreshing coolness of the cloth.

"I, um, found you outside the door this morning. I brought you inside to treat your injuries and your fever. You've been asleep quite a while." He fumbled his fingers anxiously. You cleared your throat, feeling the dryness of it still. You haven't had anything to drink since you awoke yesterday.

The man jumped a bit and rushed from his seat. "I-I'll fetch you some water. Just one moment." He grabbed a small glass from a counter and fled out the door. You followed his body until he was out of view.

You then scanned your surroundings. You had passed out in front of this house? You didn't question it. At least the bear hadn't found you before he did.

Inside you could tell that you were in another cottage. Though this one appeared a bit bigger than the other one. Your eyes attempted to count the beds all lined in a row. Seven became your total, including the one in which you resided.

Though what striked you as odd were the sizes of the beds. They all seemed to be children's beds, though the man appeared to be a fully grown adult.

There was a table past a walkway that you saw also had seven seats of equal size. A kitchen nook a bit wider in space was visible as well. Light shown from two shutter windows. These weren't boarded up.

Your inspection came to an end as the man returned with a glass of water. You didn't know how excited one could be for a glass of water until you greedily reached your arms out for the cup and glugged every drop before the man even had a chance to sit down. It felt so refreshing. Your throat yearned for more.

"Thank you," your voice came out less hoarse. You offered a grateful smile and handed the cup back to the man. "Can I know the name of the man who has helped me?"

The man chuckled and glanced down at the astonishingly empty cup. "My name is Nival White. And what might be your name?" A smile graced his lips. He was honestly cute in your eyes. But still, you were cautious.

"(Y/n) (L/n)."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement. Before he could speak again, you cut him off. "Could I...have some more water?" He giggled childishly and rose from his seat, going back outside. You assumed he was going to a well of sorts.

A few minutes later he returned and handed you the glass again. You took your time with this cup. You didn't want to get sick.

"Can I ask where you were headed, (Y/n)?" His words were careful in tone. You appreciated his consideration. You weren't sure how to answer his question though. You really didn't know the extent of that answer either.

"Well, I'm not sure to be honest. Like today, I woke up in a foreign cottage a few miles from here just yesterday. I attempted to ask around and see if anyone knew where we were or even if they knew why I was here. In complete honesty, I don't remember a thing aside from my own name." Your face grew grim and you took another small sip of water. It bothered you to not have any recollection of your past. You hated not having answers for your questions.

"Oh...my apologies. I couldn't even imagine what you must be going through. But...how did you get here?" His eyes were curious and intrigued.

"I was being chased by a bear. I didn't see where I was going and tripped over a tree root and fell down a hill. I guess I knocked into your home. I'm terribly sorry." You went to bow your head when he shook his hands precariously.

"No, no! Please. You have nothing to apologize for." He gave a comforting grin. You sighed, relieved.

You set the cup down on the nightstand next to you. "Um, then may I ask where we are? Like I said, I don't remember ever being here." You bit your lip anxiously. You shifted yourself to lean against the small head dress.

"We're in the woods just outside the village, Amoura. That's the closest town to our current location. Though several other lands reside in every general direction." You weren't sure what to make of that answer. It seemed even he was perplexed by the geography of this land. Did he not live here?

"See, I actually came from the fourth kingdom. This area is a bit new to me as well....I apologize." You shook your head to dismiss him. "It's alright. I understand."

"Um, but if you came from elsewhere, who resides here in this cottage?" You gave him a cautious gaze. He piped up at your question.

"Oh, some nice men live here. They allowed me to stay with them. That's why I'm here."

"Oh..."

His smile seemed to drop as his eyes wandered. He appeared to be deep in thought. His hands tugged at his pants shakily.

You knew that there was more to that story, but it wasn't your place to pry. He seemed to have some deep rooted trauma lurking behind the scenes.

You cleared your throat attempting to bring him back from himself. "Well, that's very kind of them. But, I'm sure that didn't include my stay. I should get going."

Nival's eyes widened suddenly. He rose from his seat, inclining you to now fully capture his tall stature. It honestly intimidated you.

"No! Please, I would feel horrible if I let you go back to wandering about. Why not stay for a while and recuperate? You need rest." He tried persistently to convince you to stay. You felt inclined to accept his offer, though you really didn't want to over-stay your welcome. This wasn't even his home and he was inviting you to stay.

Aside from that, you still didn't know these people. How were you supposed to trust them?

Well, I suppose you could counter that question to yourself. What exactly were you doing here?

You decided not to dwell on that thought further. You bit your lip as you looked at the pleading male before you. You really did need a place to stay. You wouldn't deny that. You were too scared to return to the cottage you were at yesterday. But you really didn't have a targeted destination. What if someone was tracking you? You still needed to ask around, but what would you do then? "Then I should at least gain permission from the home owners first."

Nival let out a long sigh. "Fair enough."

He thought for a moment, then glanced to you. "Are you hungry?" His question took you by surprise. You hadn't even thought about food. But when had been the last time you had eaten anything?

Thinking back to the moldy food from yesterday, it had probably been a while.

"Yes," You smiled graciously, "I would love to eat." Nival smiled, now prepared for a new task. "Alright! Do you have any particular requests?" He skipped off past the wide walkway and into the spacious kitchen. You could still see his figure gathering utensils and looking around.

"Um...no. Whatever you have is fine. I really do appreciate it."

Nival then went to work in the kitchen. He attempted to strike up conversation during that time, but you were understandably too tired to hold one. He allowed you to rest until the stew he was preparing was ready.

"Ah, they're home," Nival chimed as he wrung his hands on a small hand towel. He pursed his lips anxiously. You looked to the window closest to you, light coming from just a short distance away. Voices carried through the woods.

You hadn't noticed it was dark until you saw the contrast of the yellow-hued light against the dark sky. You felt your stomach curl in knots. You really hoped you weren't a bother by staying.

Nival had insisted you wouldn't be, but again, he wasn't the owner of the house. Nival was a very empathetic character. He was easy to connect with. You honestly appreciated his company.

"Hi-ho! Hi-ho!"

You furrowed your brows at the clearer chant. Their voices sounded gruff and old. You wondered what they looked like. There were seven of them from what you had gathered. Were they all brothers?

You caught sight of them through the window and froze.

The door opened and a small, stout man in red took off his cap. He hung it atop the rack next to the door and slid his coat off. As the others piled in, you noticed just how similar they all were.

They were all dwarves. They were all gritty and caked in soot. You recalled Nival mentioning that they worked in the mines. Their clothes were darkened with dirt and grime. Sweat was visible on their features.

One of them let out a sigh as he stretched. "What are you cooking for us, Nival? We're starving!" The others followed his movements in removing their outer garments and caps. They all looked drained.

Nival chuckled. He appeared from the kitchen and came into the entrance. "I've made beef stew, Grumpy's favorite, if I'm correct?" His voice sounded playful. A man in the crowd grumbled and you caught sight of a man with a heavy scowl and very noticeable wrinkles. You almost laughed had you not wanted to keep the attention off of yourself.

"Go wash up and you may eat!" Nival claimed, pointing down a small hallway that you hadn't noticed before. There must have been a restroom down there. You hadn't stood up to wander the space.

"Are you kidding me?!" the one you supposed was Grumpy exclaimed. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows and scowled at Nival. "I come back home from a twelve hour shift picking rocks, and you want me to wait for my supper?!" He was enraged, and understandably so. You probably wouldn't want to wash up if you had endured such a long day.

"You'll be able to enjoy your dinner better if you feel clean," Nival countered. You saw the logic in his words. Feeling clean would make for a better mood. "Besides, the stew is too hot to eat right now. You have enough time to wash up, and it'll be ready to eat." Another valid point, you thought.

The seven men grumbled as they trekked their way to the washroom. Before they could all fit inside, however, one took notice of your form. "Hey, Nival! Why are they still here?!" Grumpy screamed.

You suddenly felt that you needed to leave. You were right in thinking they'd want you out. As you attempted to get up from the bed, another man chimed in, "Now, Grumpy. Can't you be a little considerate? The poor chump was knocked out at our porch step, for crying out loud!"

You pursed your lips together, going to lay the blanket you held back onto the bed and stood to your full height. "Um, I-I'll leave! Sorry for the intrusion, but I thank you for your generous hospitality thus far." You went to rush out the door when Nival caught your arm. He gave you a pleading look.

He turned to the others, his hand still firmly gripping your arm. "This is (Y/n). They don't remember where they came from, they don't remember anything aside from their name. Can't we let them stay until their memory returns? They might get hurt out there on their own!" His words were very rushed. He really didn't want you to leave it seemed. You appreciated his kindness, but you didn't want to overstay your welcome.

"Nival, we don't hardly have enough room for you! How can we sustain another person?" Grumpy insisted. Nival flinched at his words. "We let you stay because that wretched wh*re of a stepmother is trying to kill you! But we can't just keep running a shelter."

You understood where he was coming from. You wouldn't be particularly open to housing lost, wayward people either, especially when you didn't have room for them. There were lots of things to consider when housing new tenants.

You felt Nival's hand tighten on your arm. You knew that Grumpy's words had hit a sore spot. Was that what he was thinking about earlier? You felt terrible for him, truly. You couldn't imagine having a mother that wanted to kill you.

You didn't even remember your own mother.

Nival stood before you with an unwavering stance. A long silence drew through the air. Though you didn't dare speak. Your eyes glazed over the seven stout men. They each had their own individual features. While most held immense pity, Grumpy held a scowl so wicked you were afraid it was permanent. His arms were crossed. Long sleeves draped loosely around his arms, making his appearance a bit tougher. Grime etched into his pores and he only appeared more menacing.

The others, however, were just as silent as you were. They all seemed too fearful or bashful to say much of anything. They all had globs of dirt caked into their skin and clothes. Their fashion choices were the same as Grumpy's; long, sagging sleeved cotton shirts underneath overalls, jeans covering their legs and small, black boots to match.

The one who adorned spectacles cleared his throat. You watched as he pushed Grumpy aside and pushed his glasses closer to his face. He gave you a pitied glance before directing his attention to Nival. "Nival, I understand their predicament. But we really don't have enough space here for them. Where would they sleep? How would we get enough food to sustain everybody? While I commend you for trying to help, you must know your limits."

His tone was empathetic and cautious. You could assume that he was the thinker in the group, he put logic and reason above all else. You appreciated his concern for you.

"But if I were to find a way to arrange all of that - could they stay then?" Nival pressed. You felt he would only agitate the men more if he continued talking. You put a hand to his shoulder and met his gaze.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be alright."

Nival only gave a shake of his head and a, "No, you won't." As he went to speak again, the spectacle-bearing man drew Nival's attention back to him. He had his hand pressed to his chin , almost as if he were thinking pensively, as he beckoned for Nival to listen.

"If," he started slowly, taking a moment to look back at the others, "you can find a way to do all of that, and they are put to good use after they heal, then they can stay." His words were slow and careful. You heard Nival release a soft sigh. His shoulders released from their invisible hold and he knelt down before the dwarf.

"Thank you, Doc. I promise, you won't have to worry about a thing." He went to shake Doc's hand. The now jolly man chuckled. "I sure hope so, my boy." Nival gave an appreciative smile and turned to look your way.

"Thank you," you breathed out. Though you didn't want to be a burden to the men, you did appreciate their kindness. You really weren't sure how you would fair on your own. There was the seemingly abandoned cottage you could potentially take refuge in, though you still didn't understand who had brought you there and if they were truly gone. You also didn't know the layout of this land at all. It would be unwise for you to travel alone.

"You're quite welcome," Doc said with a generous smile. "Now, it's getting late. Nival requested we wash up before supper. You can tell us about yourself afterwards." He then commanded the others to head for the wash room. You let out a long sigh as they turned away. Nival smiled at you kindly.

"Hurry now, before the stew gets cold."

[iamacrazybagel]

Fandoms I can Write For

Here is a list of fandoms, concepts and things I can write for.

* Attack on Titan (I am not caught up on season 4)

* The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

* Kakegurui

* Assassination Classroom

* Maid Sama

* Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures (Currently watching Golden Wind)

* School Rumble

* Parasite

* Vampire Knight

* Ouran High School Host Club

* Yanderes

*OCs

* Resident Evil

* Detroit Become Human

*Disney

*Undertale

* One shots

* Stories

* Fluff

*Angst

* Dark themes

Things I will NOT write:

* Lemons

* Any sort of smut

* Inc*st

* Age gaps

* Anything to do with animals in a romantic way.

* I’m very if-fy on writing self-harm tropes, though I might be able to write them. I try to keep a respectful environment, just keep that in mind.

* Headcanons

* Drabbles

* Imagines

If you have a request or question, just ask! I’ll also be posting some of my own works on here by my own volition as well. Please check them out!