#and gem has him absolutely WHIPPED the way she so sweetly was always like 'but youre the sheriff!!' every time he was nervous

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

Princess Gem and Sheriff Jimmy’s dynamic means everything to me, actually

[x1-imaginesreturns]

Home for the Holidays - Wooseok

Masterlist

Pairing: Wooseok x Reader

Warnings: hits you right in the feels, I apologize

Word Count: 1,537

Notes: Sorry it’s been so long everyone!!! I’m finally on break so enjoy Wooseok’s part!! also I kinda almost cried writing this so yAyyyyyy

Song Recommendation: Epilogue: Young Forever - BTS

“Mom... are you really sure you want to put all of those ornaments on the tree?,” you daughter Chaewon asks as you pull out the oldest-looking box from your family’s shelves of Christmas ornaments.

“Of course I do dear,” you answer gently, looking over the familiar box softly, “I have to honor your father somehow, don’t I?” Chaewon nods sincerely before saying, “Of course, I don’t mean it like I don’t want you to... I’m just afraid you won’t be able to get them up on the tree yourself.”

“You’re a little old to be the one putting the ornaments on the tree now, aren’t you?,” she says, smiling at you. You laugh back and say, “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sure Woojin and Junseok would love to help me out though, and maybe hear a bit more about their grandfather as well.”

Chaewon nods, walking over to you to take the box from you, “I’m sure they would. I’ll go get them, you go take a seat on the couch, okay mom?” You nod at her happily before slowly making your way back to the couch.

As you sit down, you hear your grandsons Woojin and Junseok storm into the living room, skidding to a stop right in front of where you were sitting. “Hello there!,” you say laughing at the boys’ excited faces, “Are you boys going to help me hang grandpa’s ornaments?”

The two of them nod enthusiastically just as Chaewon walks into the living room with the box of ornaments and sets them down next to you. “Let’s let grandma decide which ornaments she wants up there, okay?”

“Are you going to tell us more about grandpa?,” Woojin asks sweetly as you pull the first ornament out of the box. “Of course dear, what would you like to know?” Junseok and Woojin share a glance and Junseok asks, “Why did he make you so many ornaments?”

You giggle softly to yourself, admiring the first one in the room’s light. It was the first one he had ever given you, which was a small dove resting on a nest sprinkled with little dots of fake snow. You could still see the place where Wooseok had glued a note to the nest.

Wooseok… that name brought so many memories back to you. But your mind focused on the memory of this particular ornament. You remember waiting outside of your high school on Christmas day, the cold breeze chilling you to the core as you forgot to wear a jacket, as you were too excited to finally get your last day of the school year over with, even if it was also Christmas day.

As another breeze whipped by, you saw your long-time crush, Kim Wooseok, approaching you. His hands were tucked behind his back, and despite his many layers, his cheeks were flushed.

He instantly saw your lack of jacket, and ran up to you, his hands never leaving from behind his back. “Y/n, are you crazy? Where’s your jacket?,” he asks sweetly, his eyes darting back and forth from yours nervously. “Oh, I just forgot it this morning, I’ll be fine Wooseok.”

“If you say so...,” he says worriedly, before shaking his head, “Here um... Merry Christmas y/n!” Wooseok pulls his hands out from behind his back, revealing the delicate dove ornament, the note he attached dangling off of the side of it. 

You blush darkly before saying, “Aww thank you Wooseok! It’s really cute, I love it.” You step forward and embrace him sweetly, before backing away to read the note. 

He looks down, blushing deeply as you start reading the note.

Dear y/n,

Merry Christmas!! I hope you like the ornament I made for you. And yes, I actually made it haha, I’ve been working on it for a while until it was absolutely perfect. Since it’s for you... it has to be perfect. I’ve... I’ve liked for you a while now y/n, and I don’t know... I felt like I have to confess to you with this. I can only hope that you like me back and to be honest, I’m sure I’ll run away whilst you read this. Even if you don’t like me, I hope you have a happy holiday season!

                                                                                                      Sincerely, 

                                                                                                       Wooseok

You look back up at Wooseok to see him staring at you intensely, his eyes wild with nervousness. You look away for one second, your face lighting up with a bright shade of pink just as you look back down at him.

“I-I like you too Wooseok.”

Your mind flashed back to the present where Woojin and Junseok were staring wonderingly at the small ornament, not even noticing how you completely disappeared for a few seconds there.

“This ornament was the first one he ever made for me,” you say, gently handing the ornament to Woojin, “Be careful with it, okay?” Woojin nods determinedly, heading for the tree slowly.

As Woojin starts to hang it, you say, “And he gave that one to me on Christmas day when we were 16, which he also used as an opportunity to ask me out.” Junseok gapes at you and exclaims, “You and grandpa were really together for that long?”

You nod fondly, pulling out the next ornament. It was your one-year anniversary ornament, a snowflake that Wooseok had delicately carved from a beautiful piece of wood. And attached to the bottom of it were waterfalls of expensive gems that he had saved up to buy just for the ornament.

As you pulled out more and more ornaments, explaining each of their stories to your grandsons and watching as they carefully hung them on your Christmas tree, you felt more lonely than ever. And soon enough, the box was empty, leaving only the final ornament that he had made left.

It was for your 60th anniversary, the last one you had shared together. Out of all of the ornaments, he had made for you over the years, this was the only one that had made you cry.

He had remade the first ornament, except there were two old birds watching over the nest on a higher branch, while a new mother bird roosted over her two newborn baby birds.

Chaewon watched as you brought the ornament out, sniffling as she remembered how much you and her had cried over the ornament. Woojin and Junseok had only just been born, and to you, it finally felt like the family you had always wanted was complete.

You handed the ornament to the two of them, not saying anything as you leaned back on the couch, tears pooling into your eyes. “Chaewon,” you say shakily, “Could you drive me over to Wooseok’s grave on Christmas day?”

~~

“We’re here mom,” Chaewon says, putting the car into park as you unbuckle your seat belt. You and her trudge out of the car and into the small graveyard that Wooseok rested in. Chaewon had brought flowers, but you, without her knowing, had taken the 60th anniversary ornament and tucked it into your sweater pocket.

When you got to the grave, Chaewon had placed her flowers down, sitting in front of his grave before she started to mutter quietly. You turned and walked a few steps, letting her have her peace.

You knew she missed her father just as much as you missed him. He had done the most to make sure Chaewon grew up well, and that she always knew she could rely on either of them for anything. 

Chaewon got up and walked towards you, clearly blinking away tears. “I’ll let you have your space mom,” she says wobbly, wiping a few of her tears. You step forward wordlessly, putting your hand on her shoulder as you pass her by.

As you step in front of the grave again, you slowly lean down to sit on your knees, pulling out the ornament, which was still perfectly intact. “Wooseok, my love, I’m back,” you say, placing down the ornament at the base of his grave, “Merry Christmas my dear... and happy 64th anniversary.”

You read the dates on his grave: “Born October 27, 1939. Dead: December 26, 2015.” Tears pooled in your eyes once again as you started to feel dizzy from sadness. “Tomorrow will be exactly four years since you passed, four years that I’ve been living my life without you.”

“I know I’ll see you soon enough though, my love,” you say, letting your eyes close peacefully, as your spirit faded from your body gracefully. 

As you opened your eyes again, you saw Wooseok sitting peacefully upon the crest of his grave, looking as youthful as he did on the Christmas that he had asked you out.

“You’ve finally come back to me, my love,” Wooseok says, sliding off his grave to extend his hand towards you, “Come now, let’s dance into the heavens, just like we always promised we would.”

You grab his outreached hand, and the two of you lift into the bright sky, dancing as you got closer and closer to dancing in the heavens with your beloved Wooseok.

“Merry Christmas, my dear,” he says as you burst through the clouds, “Let’s spend many more together.”

[amintyworld]

Noid’s Entrance - A DnD Inspired Story

A/N: Hey guys! Here’s a new NPC in my gem quest campaign which is very important to the plot, and I’m working on a origin fic for her story which should be coming out soon. This is a prequel to that story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

TW: Destruction, Implied death and loss (As always, tell me if I missed anything!)

Summary: Noid remembers.

-----------------------------------

Noid smiled, climbing up a tree, chasing the birds as they flew higher and higher. Noid laughed as they chirped worriedly as she reached to grab one. “Noid is going to catch you-!” The birds flew higher, up into the white clouds, and Noid smiled, watching them go. She sighed, the wind whipping her long hair every which way as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Noid will catch you one day, maybe Noid will fly too!”

The wind cooled her sweaty body from the hot summer day, and she looked around the dense forest for anything to do, or eat for that matter. That’s when a sweet scent caught Noid’s nose, and her stomach began to grumble. She sniffed, trying to track it, and when she found a direction, jumped to a lower tree and easily to the ground, chasing it. Noid had never smelled something so delicious in all her years living in the forest, she wondered what it could be. 

As she ran after it, she didn’t notice the woods around her become unfamiliar - she must not have traveled this far from home before. Why has she never caught this scent before? Her mouth began to water as it became more potent. 

That’s when she saw it - a tree full of juicy purple fruit, waiting to be harvested and eaten. Her eyes lit up at the sight and scrambled up the tree to pick the fruit, munching on it harshly as the juice ran down Noid’s chin. “Noid is... so happy!” She squealed between munches. Before she knew it, she had eaten enough to form a small pile of cores next to her, and her stomach felt happy.

A loud sound quickly froze Noid in her tracks. She slowly reached for and quickly grabbed her spear from her back, getting quickly into a fighting stance, pointing her sharpened stick at where she heard the noise come from, ready to attack if necessary. Noid was met with only silence for a few moments, making Noid cautiously step forward to find who disrupted her treasured breakfast.

She was met with a clearing, and what looked to be a bunch of broken houses - the stone crumbled and the wood absolutely splintered. All around, there seemed to be some kind of pitch-black markings covering the floors, ground, and walls. As Noid walked further between these buildings, more appeared in the small valley below, what looked to be near hundreds. 

“Woah.”

Noid slowly put her spear back after she scanned for any signs of danger, and knelt on the ground marked black, slowly touching it. It felt rough, like charcoal, and when she tried to dig her fingers into it, it felt hard as stone. Only one question was on Noid’s mind as she stared at the city in ruin - What happened?

The wind blew through Noid’s hair once more, for the first time giving her chills as she walked through the ruins, feeling strange. Almost like she wasn’t meant to be here. Noid felt uneasy for a number of different reasons. There was an air about this place that seemed unsafe, yet safe. 

Familiar, yet not familiar. 

Was she supposed to… know this place? How could she, she’s never even been here before! Noid found her hand softly brushing across a crumbling stone wall, making her close her eyes as she tried to remember something, Something important. Her head spun and slowly began to form into a small headache from the strain.

Noid slowly stepped inside the open-roofed ‘house’ - a few half-burned drawings on the wall, and a small chair in a corner, half-blackened. Noid walked over to admire the drawings, smiling and giggling at the creations of silly animals. As she laughed, a giggling chuckle echoed in her mind. 

A child’s laugh.

She quickly turned at the sound, looking for the source only to find no one there. “Who…?”

Noid’s head began to pound, so she sat down to rest, and to drink some water. As she sat in the shade, a song came to her. A song she was sure she’d never heard of but found herself humming along to it. She looked around at the house at the bunt possessions, getting up to examine them, beginning to sing.

“Dancing Bears, Painted Wings

 Things I almost remember

 And a song someone sings

 Once upon a December.”

Her fingers traced a piece of carved wood on the floor, her fingers tracing the curves, she couldn’t help but smile. She closed her eyes and swore she could hear the crackle of the fire, and the smell of spices and soup... a voice. Calmly humming along with her.

Somehow, she... felt at ease?

Noid could almost feel the warmth of a fire on her fingertips, a hug around her middle-

“Someone holds me safe and warm

 Horses prance through a silver storm

 Figures dancing gracefully

 Across my memory.”

That’s when she heard a voice, clear as day. “May I accompany you to the dance floor, Madam?”

Noid rushed toward the outside and saw it - a man with a suit on, shyly holding his arm out to a woman with red hair and green eyes in a gorgeous gown. The woman smiled sweetly, taking his offer as they began to dance in the middle of all the destroyed houses. Noid smiled at the couple as they waltzed, more people appearing, dancing around them. She wrapped her arms around herself as the wind picked up again. She felt a connection with them and slowly made her way towards the two. 

“Someone holds me safe and warm 

Horses prance through a silver storm 

Figures dancing gracefully

Across my memory.”

As Noid finally reached them, the woman disappeared, and Noid found herself wearing a beautiful gown and silver locket, the man with black hair and blue eyes looking to her lovingly. “Another dance, my lady?” Noid’s heart skipped a beat. Her hands found their way to his as they began to waltz once more. 

“Far away, long ago

Glowing dim as an ember

Things my heart used to know

Things it yearns to remember.”

As the mysterious man disappears, so does the party guests and Noid’s outfit. She fell to her knees, fingers running through her hair, wondering what the heck just happened, when-

Was that a… a baby?

Noid’s eyes widened as she stood up and rushed toward the sound, after all, a baby out here all alone wouldn’t survive. As she turned the corner, she froze. A translucent couple, like the one she’d seen before, sitting - the woman on the chair, the man behind it - holding… a translucent baby?

But… but she swore she knew these people, they were familiar… that cry was familiar, why was it familiar?! Something told her that they were important and that she knew them, but it didn’t make sense, none of this made any sense whatsoever! 

Then.. the woman and man... They looked up and made eye contact with Noid. She was startled, of course, but stilled when the woman held the baby out to Noid for her to hold. She knew this baby, this… this was her baby. She… she had a baby.

Slowly, she crept closer to it, holding her hand out to gently touch the small creature, hoping it wouldn’t disappear as heartbreak rushed back of this baby, of the memory of him.

“And a song someone sings

Once upon a December.”

As her touch reached him, he vanished, leaving Noid alone once again, and for the first time in her life, Noid hated being alone. She hated being away from her baby. WHERE was her baby?! Tears pricked her eyes as they streamed down her face, wanting to hold her son so close and never let him go again, hold on to the memories as they began to fade away again... Noid fell to her knees in a city in ruin. 

Her city. Her...home.

[lesbianmonsterlover]

Beauty and the Beast, Part 2

She isn’t quite sure what she expected from you, but a sweet if nervous smile flitting across your face was not it.  “I’m not going to run from you.”  She wants to scoff, but she just fixes you with a confused look and stays silent for you to continue.  “I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”  Now she does scoff, but something about how softly you’re looking at her prompts her to give a resigned rumble of a growl from her chest and turn on her heel.  

She begins stalking out of the room, mulling you over in her mind.  She had never had much interest in the princes that would come calling for her hand, and the power of their kingdom gave her the luxury to remain unmarried.  Her tastes had always leaned toward the fairer sex, often instead of the princes that had come to court her she would instead find herself in a dalliance with their sisters or even mothers in a few cases.  You were precisely her taste, as far as physical attributes went, but what intrigued her most was the sharpness about you that was tempered by a feminine kindness she found almost intoxicating.  So soft, so gentle, she wanted to be pinned by your gaze forever.

She’s a few steps out the door when the notices that you aren’t following, and she turns to look at you from over her shoulder.  Her emerald eyes shine from the darkness like a beacon.  “Are you coming to dinner?  Or are you just going to stand there gawking?”  She doesn’t mean to be so rough, truly, but when you go several decades without meaningful human interaction it’s going to take a toll on your social ability.  Especially when presented with someone so alluring.  She growls to herself as she turns again, continuing to stride powerfully down the hallway but slowing her gait to give you a chance to catch up.

As you’re walking beside her she gives a nod to a steward who gives the order to begin lighting the torches.  She’s delighted by the gasp of wonder you let out as the palace is lit from within.  She watches your face as you take everything in with wide eyes, and seeing as you’re distracted enough she takes a moment to appreciate your form.  The dress you have on is a beautiful cornflower blue, and topped with a rather cute white apron.  It’s simple but it suits you, although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t imagining draping you in every bit of finery she could scrounge up in this place.  You’d look wonderful in yellow, she’s sure, dripping with gold and gems from her mother’s jewelry box, looking like the sun had been pulled down from the sky just for her.  

Dinner is an affair, her chef-stove taking the opportunity to create a culinary masterpiece the likes of which the castle hadn’t seen for decades.  Pulling out all the stops, she’s delighted to watch you eat dish after dish as she plies you with questions, tongue loosened by wine.  “I just needed to get away for the day.  My father, he’s rather ill and the doctor isn’t sure if he’ll ever wake.  I’ve left him in a care clinic, but that leaves just me in the home and, well, there aren’t any jobs for unmarried young women in my village that I’d be willing to do, if you understand me.”  Her heart breaks for you.  She understands you perfectly, even if she doesn’t have the firsthand knowledge of what it’s like to be put in that kind of situation.  Her rumble of assent seems to be enough for you to continue.  “On top of that, there’s this...this man…” the way you spit out that word makes her huff out a laugh “this horrible monster of a man who doesn’t seem to understand what the word no means.  He’s asked for my hand a dozen times, in increasingly desperate ways, and every time I rebuff him his reactions get worse.  After my father collapsed...well I didn’t want to be in the house today for when he inevitably came by to ask to marry me again.  I’m not sure I’d have made it out entirely intact.”  

The snarl on her face makes you squeak a little in fear, eyes widening.  She takes a deep breath in to school her expression.  “What a horrid pissant.”  Your rather unladylike snort of laughter makes her smirk.  “I do not miss my interactions with men.  Dreadful, entitled beings with rare exception.”  Your giggle is what she was after, and the two of you trade stories back and forth about your experiences with men.  When you collapse into a heap of laughter at her telling of the time she managed to convince a rather stupid prince that the castle was haunted by simply kicking the post of the table they sat at for tea, she knows it’s time to bring you to your room.  You’re definitely drunk, but bubbly and lively.  When you stand and wobble she offers you her arm, like a gentleman should, and escorts you to a rather lavishly furnished guest room.  

When she returns to her own chambers, dark and decrepit from years of her pent up aggression being taken out on the furnishings, she collapses into her pile of pillows and down comforters with a sigh.  You could it be, could be the one to break the curse and the one she would spend hopefully the rest of her life with.  But you’ll be going back to that shitty little village tomorrow, you’d forget all about her as those who leave these lands always do, and she’ll be left here to rot along with all of the poor staff who she’d brought down with her.  If only she could convince you to stay longer, to give her a chance to show you how she could provide for you.  But she would not keep you prisoner.  She knows too well what it means to be trapped by these four walls with no real freedom, longing for connection and intimacy.  No, you were not a bird to be kept in a gilded cage.  With a heavy heart she sinks into sleep, resigned to her fate and whispering apologies out into the void for the lives of those in her employ who would fall victim with her to her own weaknesses.

~~~

When you wake the next morning you’re rather hungover but still remember last night with decent clarity.  The mysterious beast who lived in the castle was a woman, seemingly a noblewoman of high standing who before whatever happened here used to cavort around with the princes and diplomats from foreign nations.  She was sharp and witty, her dry sense of humor magnifying the absolute stupidity of some of her former compatriots.  Even in this form she was attractive, in a dangerous way that made your heart thrum in your chest and nerves feel on fire.  Her fur was so soft, and your cheeks heat when you vaguely remember burying your face against the fur of her neck when she caught you from stumbling.

Part of you is loathe to leave today, but you know that you must get back to the cottage and sort things out.  You’ll need to count your coins and talk to the owner of the book shop about perhaps taking on a position there in some capacity dusting, cleaning, anything he needed.  So long as you could get some coin in your purse to scrounge up a living on so you wouldn’t have to seriously consider the advances of Gerard.  If you got to that point you don’t know what you’d do, so it’s best not to dwell on it.  

When you finally muster the energy a few minutes after waking, you stand from the bed and stretch.  The pop and crack of your back and shoulders makes you sigh in relief, and you take a moment to limber up before washing your face in a basin and slipping your dress back on over your shift.  Peeling back the curtains your face goes worried at the blizzard raging outside, the happy pop and crackle of the roaring fire in your fireplace was enough to drown out the wind whipping outside of the castle walls.  

The knock on the door of your guest chambers surprises you, but when your hostess opens the door after you call for her to enter you fix her with a large, if sheepish, smile.  “I see you’ve noticed our predicament, sweetheart.”  The pet name makes your cheeks flush and she smirks, hitting the mark.  “I’m afraid you may be here for the foreseeable future, I know you needed to get back to town but I don’t believe you’d make it there in these conditions.  I’d offer you the use of a horse if I had one, darling, but I do not.”  She looks at you sadly, although hopeful, and her eyes brighten when you giggle and smile at her sweetly.

“Well, I can think of worse places to get stuck, and with worse company.”  When you wink you can tell she’s flustered by the way her jaw tightens and she looks away from you.  “I appreciate the effort, but seriously, I’m happy to be here.  Thank you for not leaving me out there last night.”  You place your hand on her arm, your fingers sinking into warm auburn fur and finding hard corded muscle beneath.  She grumbles at you, gaze unreadable, and you can tell she’s gone somewhere in her mind that isn’t exactly pleasant.

“I learned long ago not to turn away those in need.  Come then, let’s find us something to do today.  Tell me, sweet, what do you enjoy?  Chess?  Painting?  Needlepoint?”

“Books.”  Your answer is immediate, and your cheeks are still flushed as she gazes at you with warm eyes.  She doesn’t answer you though, merely nods and turns to walk down the hall at a slow enough pace that you can follow alongside.  When she walks slowly she can manage on just her hindquarters, those hugely muscular thighs and hips too much to be contained by regular breeches.  She had been wearing them last night when she took you to dinner, but you could see how they strained at the seams.  She’s in a pair of riding pants today, the fabric seems to have more give to it and is cut on the bias to allow for even more stretch.  Her white blouse is tucked into the pants, although her collar is open to leave room for her neck and scruff.  The swell of her breasts is prominent but not overly so, and you find yourself wondering what she looked like before whatever happened.  Has she always been like this?  Is this a new predicament?  

Before you can ask anything she stops you in front of a set of huge, wooden doors.  “Close your eyes.”  Under normal circumstances this would be an odd request, you find it especially odd coming from your kind-if-rough-around-the-edges host, but you do so anyway, not only closing your eyes but covering them with your hands.  When the door before you opens you’re hit with a blast of cool air that smells like old paper, worn leather, and firesmoke.  It smells like the book shop back in town, a scent you’ve come to love.  You feel a large clawed paw on your lower back that gently guides you in.  You’re still left in the dark for a bit as you hear someone stoking a fire in the fireplace, but once you can hear the cheery crackling of split wood and the gentle roar of the flames you hear your host’s voice again.  “Alright, sweet, open them.”

The windows are too dark with snow to let in much natural light, but the fireplace does a good job of illuminating most of the first level.  Looking up into the hugely vaulted ceiling you see at least two more levels above with small walkways and huge moving ladders.  You can’t help the gasp you give and the awestruck wonder with which you take in the sight of so many books.  “I didn’t know there were even this many books in the world.”  You miss the gentle look the queen gives you as you speak in hushed and reverent tones.  

“I want you to be comfortable here, especially with how long it looks like you may be stuck here between the blizzard and the havoc it will undoubtedly wreak on the forest paths.  So long as you’re here with me, sweet, you may come here at any time.  Nothing but my private quarters are closed off to you, but I implore you to ask for guidance from myself or my staff if you wish to wander, I would hate for you to get lost in our maze of halls just to perish while I search for you.”  She’s rambling a little, but you find it endearing and just laugh and nod along.  

“You know, I don’t think I’ve met your staff, are they...like you?”  Her face is steel after your question, eyes hard and angry.  She shakes her head a gruff no.

“No, I am the only one cursed to look like such a beast.  They were all victims of my hubris and selfishness.”  Okay, so she hasn’t always looked like this and she’s bitter about it.  While you’re mulling over the fact that you’re, well, pretty attracted to her, and you’re trying to figure out how to tell her you think she’s beautiful without coming across as patronizing, she calls out someone’s name.

You hear what sounds like wooden legs scurrying across marble when you’re bowled into by the ottoman who saved your butt from hitting the marble last night.  It lets out a low, rumbling bark that makes you laugh at the absurdity of the situation.  You do your very best to pet the ottoman, running your palms along its broad back and taking the time to scratch at the seam where the cushion met the frame.  Your host is smiling fondly down at you as you play with the “dog,” who has chosen to settle on your lap with a satisfied sigh.  

“Okay, so your staff are...furniture?”  She sighs, kneeling down beside you to scratch under what you’re hoping is the chin side of this ottoman.  

“Many years ago, I was spoiled and selfish and vain.  I allowed my bitterness and anger to turn me into a monster, and I justified all of it by the fact that I was queen and none could defy me.  I was cursed, and rightfully so, for denying an old woman shelter on a night much like last night.  I denied her because she was ugly, and I thought such creatures didn’t deserve a place in my beautiful palace.  It wasn’t her that was ugly though, it was me.  She proved it simply by making the outside match the inside.”  She way she gazes, almost unseeingly, down at her paws makes your heart hurt for her.  

“How do we break the curse?”  She’s startled out of her reverie by your hand on hers, and when she glances at your face she’s struck by the sincerity and openness on it.  “I want to help, you’ve been so kind to me, I think you’ve...I hope at least you’ve learned the lesson you were meant to.  Let me help you, it’s the least I can do.”  

She gives you a sad smile, more of a grimace or a sneer than a smile really but you understand the sentiment behind her bared teeth.  Her huge paw comes up to touch your cheek gently, not daring to cup your face in her hand lest you realize what you’re sitting across from.  “Oh you sweet, gentle girl.  Thank you, but I am resigned to my fate.  If you’re happy to keep me company though while you’re here, that is more than I could ever ask.”  You agree readily, eyes bright as you instruct her to get settled on the chaise by the fireplace.

“We’re going to read together!  Or, well, one of us will read to the other.  Now...let’s see…”  You let her instruct you to her most beloved collection of books, all of them well worn with weak spines and creased leather.  She loved her books, you can tell, and you’ll do right by them.  You swear.  Picking the most loved and creased volume of all you wander back over to the chaise and settle yourself closest to the fire, between the warm wall of muscle and fur of your host and the hard arm of the chaise.

She plucks the book from your hands, looking down at it longingly.  Her huge paws dwarf the small, leather-bound tome.  She flips it open to a particular page, the book falls open there easily so you guess that she studied this page a thousand times.  Her long tongue licks nervously over the corner of her muzzle and she skims the page with one claw, eyes full of unexpressed emotion.

“That man to me seems equal to the gods,

The man who sits opposite you

And close by listens

To your sweet voice/

And your enticing laughter--

That indeed has stirred up the heart in my breast.

For whenever I look at you even briefly

I can no longer say a single thing,/

But my tongue is frozen in silence;

Instantly a delicate flame runs beneath my skin;

With my eyes I see nothing;

My ears make a whirring noise./

A cold sweat covers me,

Trembling seizes my body,

And I am greener than grass.

Lacking but little of death do I seem.”

Her voice is low and longing, each word dripping unbidden with hidden meaning.  “Did you write that?”  You voice is wondering and it makes her laugh loud and clear.  It doesn’t sound like that’s a noise she’s made in a long, long while if the rasp from its disuse is anything to go by.  

“No, sweet, but thank you for thinking that something so beautiful could come from someone as ugly inside as I was.”  She pushes a long lock of hair behind your ear as she stares down at you softly.  “It was written by Sappho, a woman from Ancient Greece who wrote poetry about loving other women, the way men love them.”  

Your cheeks are hot but you can’t look away from her face.  Loving other women?  You’d never given much thought to the fact that you hadn’t found a man attractive in, well, ever.  You figured it had more to do with the lack of options in your little village than anything about men as a whole.  Thinking on it though, whenever you imagined your life going forward you never really imagined a husband.  Sure, you imagined a partner with you, someone to share your days and your burdens, but as you dwell on it for a moment you come to a rather sudden realization that you never much liked men in the first place.  “Will you read me more?”

Your host chuckles, thumbing your chin.  “Of course, sweet.  Here, let me read you some of my favorite fragments…”  She trails off, flipping through the thin pages looking for something in particular.  That’s how the two of you spend the whole of the morning and most of the afternoon.  A rather sweet teapot brings a rolling cart with lunch and tea on it, chattering happily with her companions as they leave when you thank each of them individually with a sweet smile.  

When you collapse back into your bed that night, the storm still raging outside the castle leaving the sky nothing but a sheet of gray, you do so with a smile on your face.

At the same moment you collapse into bed, your horse has been found still saddled but without you on it, shivering in the barn and eating the last of the hay that had been set out.  The stablehand from the inn takes charge, and Gerard has plans to use this to his advantage.  He pays, quite happily, for the inn to board and care for your mare.  Once the snow lets up he is going to go into the woods in search of you.  Either he will bring you back agreeing to be his wife, or he will leave you there to rot and claim to have found nothing but some tattered remains of your dress.  Yes, he will get what he wants, or you will just have to die, because if he cannot have you then, well, what’s the use of you existing?

You fall asleep, blissfully unaware of the plans of that toad back at your village.  You’re simply looking forward to tomorrow, wondering what else your host can introduce into your life.