A Faerie Tale, Broken

It was in this weather that this family with its new foundling sat. Gretel listened intently to an oral recounting of the land's history as she practiced her needlework. Suddenly, the door to the hall banged open and a stooped woman clutching a gnarled oaken staff hobbled in. Her black eyes almost glowed with a wrathful vengeance as she made her way in. Those same eyes trimmed on Gretel almost instantly and the crone took a deep, long sniff of the air. "YOU!"

Appalled, Gretel did not know what to do. The hag's raspy voice filled the air once more. "MURDERER!" The witch screeched, "For the death of my sister, you will pay!" Her voice rose then, in a sing song chorus that echoed through the air:

As you broke my heart in 'twain,
Will Love forever be you bane.
No matter far or travels go;
True Love shall always be your woe.
Those around you love or hate;
May your curse aggravate.
May you cause lovers dread;
The curse is laid, so it is said.

At the dismayed cries of those present, the guards quickly came in and killed the creature where she stood. They killed her too late. The curse had been planted and the death of the witch would not stop it. Forever, she would be denied love. Forever she would cause those in love to be filled with hate, for those who do not love to be filled with passion. With one swift move, the crone had withered the rose before it had been able to stretch its petals to become what it was.

What hurt the most were not the sudden dark eyes of those around her, but the realization that she and her prince would never be together.

Chapter Four: The Best of a Worst Situation

The years passed, another four summers come and gone, as well as the death of the old king. Unable to be near those she loved, she was eventually moved into her own house on the estate. Her adopted family loved her from afar. They wept over her and rallied every magician, sorcerer, or being of magical property they could find to end the curse. The closest they ever came was the cryptic response of a particularly old seer.

"To Love and Hate are the same. The curse shall end when she is Loved and Hated in unison. "

This of course caused confusion. How could one love her and hate her at the same time? When around her, the curse caused all of the love to be washed out by hate, all of the hate to be washed out by love. The two emotions could not simultaneously exist.

After the initial grief had passed, Gretel found that her curse, though it might deny her true happiness, could perhaps bring it to others. Soon, couples and young lovers would visit her. If the pair turned to each other in loathing, they had a strong bond that would never be broken. When the pair turned on each other in amorous, passionate affection, one or even both were not in love, but rather had secret despises of the other person. If nothing happened, then the emotions were superficial and no love would ever come out of the match.

Eventually people took the reactions as a way of match-making. People would not wed if Gretel's curse did not pass the test. It became known as the 'Lover's Curse' over time, and people traveled from far and wide to see if they could exceed. This was especially popular with the more romantic young women. It hurt Gretel to watch other people's happiness, but she felt that she lived, in a way, through them all.

***

Marianne, the Duchess of Veryn twirled in the frothy confection of lace and tissue thin satin that composed her wedding gown. The bodice cupped her torso tightly and the corset pushed up her breasts almost to the point of indecent. Frowning, she tugged at the fabric, trying to pull it up higher. After hours of arguing with the dressmaker over the revealing style, she had decided to tuck a blue lace kerchief into the plunging cleavage to keep it modest. Even though it may be the height of fashion here in Symonnia, she did not want every male ogling her.

Sighing, she twisted and turned at the administration of the seamstress. They were in the process of attaching blue ribbons to the gown and had decided that it was best to do it while she was still in it to 'see how they draped'. Frowning at her image, Marianne absently twirled a curl of her crimson hair around her finger. Her freckles were back again. A soft dotting of pale brown dots that dappled across the bridge of her nose and along her creamy shoulders. It did not matter how little sun she got, as soon as those golden rays touched her skin, she turned spotted.

Hansel had once called the 'adorable'. She had almost pushed him into the fountain they sat by.

Getting impatient, her green eyes sparked as she tapped her foot on the small pedestal she stood upon. She wanted to leave soon. Hansel had promised her that they would visit the proprietor of the 'Lover's Curse'. From the moment she had heard of this rumor, she truly wanted to see if it could tell. Not only that, but she was left with a curious notation that her fiancée was not nearly enamored of her as he had professed. Though theirs was still a political match of sorts, it had been founded in a true affection for one another. First cousin to the current King of Veryn, she would tie the lands together in the absence of any female children he might have had.

With a rapid shot of measurements and lengths, the seamstress finally voiced the words she wanted to hear. "You may now change, Duchess." She could not get out of that gown fast enough.

***

"I think this is silly, Marianne. How would talking to a woman whom is cursed to be alone for the rest of her life possibly bring us any closer together?" Hansel's rich voice rose in protest.

"If it is silly, then there is no harm to it. We will simply have an enjoyable ride across the countryside." Marianne's mellow alto countered her betrothed. "And I think it will be interesting to see. I do have a fascination for magic."

At that, Hansel grunted softly. She certainly did. Gifted at the young age with a fae godparent, she had been spoiled on the stuff. It had also taken a bit of a long talk to get her attentive watchdog to calm enough to allow the wedding. For a faerie, Ravynth was a rather tall and imposing fellow. His child books had raised him on the impression that they were small with butterfly wings. They forgot to mention that they could change their size at will and his fiancées faerie godfather stood at a massive six foot four. That extra inch over Hansel was forever a sore point that Ravynth enjoyed to rub in.

With a deep sigh, Hansel pushed his thoughts away from that rather moody pixie and back to the current situation. They were headed to the Georgio estate. Something about that name brought up the fleeting image of a child with dark blue eyes. Of course his experience in the forest had never fully been forgotten, but with the passing of the years it had become unimportant.

For the remainder of the ride, the two sat in companionable silence.

Chapter Five: An Ill-Fated Meeting

Gretel had been warned that the King was coming. She even knew that this return was not the fantasized reunion she had pictured through her adolescence, but the confirmation of the match between himself and his fiancée. It still hurt.

Taking a deep breath, she dressed with care. For some reason, she did not want him to see her. She did not want there to be a chance of recognition. Taking her veil, she draped it over her head. They would see a ghostly image of a woman in mourning garbed in black, hidden in black. And if the King was in for a lifetime of joy, he and his bride to be would certainly go for each other's throats.

A slight whispering at her front door alerted her to the fact that it was time. Sitting herself on her chair, she smoothed her skirts around her and waited. A few soldiers filtered in from the King's own guard. It had been long discovered that those brought near her would have to be removed rather quickly. Those guards that were her own eventually drew emotion to her and became useless. She could deal with the pity from complete strangers, or the indifference.

"The High Lord, King Hansel of Symonnia and his fiancée, the Duchess Marianne of Veryn."

This was the moment. She held her breath as the walked in. His arm was politely out, the Duchess' hand resting on his elbow. The King had grown older and her eyes drank him, noting the small changes: the breadth of his shoulders, the muscle that had filled in through battle and exercise. He was still gorgeous. Her own heart fluttered softly and her stomach clenched in pain, knowing that he would never be hers. That this moment would be the closest to that reality she would see in her lifetime.

His companion was beautiful. The Duchess' hair had been allowed to fall in free curls to her hips, small white and blue flowers woven into to compliment the deep blue of her gown. Even if she had not been cursed, she felt as though she would pale and wither next to the vibrant beauty at his side. She was a petite woman, and short. Her head fell inches short of his shoulder; a cherished doll to treat and protect all of his life.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile to her lips. Though they could not see, it would reflect in her voice. "Please, approach me."

***

As Hansel guided her forward, he was not quite sure what to suspect. Though he had heard of curses that affected their targets, he had never heard of one that affected even those around them. It was powerful magic, indeed, if it was true. Stopping on the threshold of her influence, denoted upon the floor by a chalk mark upon the stones, he smiled at Marianne then stepped across.

At first, Marianne felt an odd wave. A slight tingling sensation that sent chills down her spine. Then, disappointingly, nothing. No anger, no hate, not even a bit of sadness. She could be standing next to a stranger for all she knew.

Hansel, on the other hand, had a reaction most shocking. "Disgusting filthy bitch! Get her out of my sight now!" Hate poured from him in almost audible waves. They were not directed at Marianne. They were directed at the covered woman before them. "Guards, seize her!"

At the first words uttered from the King, Gretel had felt a keen pain slice into her heart. A breath later, she realized that the gaze was not directed at the woman on his side, but to her. Scrambling out of her chair, she moved backwards as fast as possible. She did not know which was worse, having him look at her with such eyes, or having him look at another woman such a way. "Bitch!" The King's voice rose once again, and Gretel swallowed harshly. She had moved well out of the influence range, yet he was still being affected. "I want you to chain that enchantress." Finally, with two commands issued by their liege lord, and the woman well back from where he should have been influenced, the guards stepped forward, seizing her.

***

It took dragging the struggling woman away to the other side of the estate for the odd emotional overload to wear off. Hansel stood dazed, unsure of what had just happened. His mind still rolled and boiled with discontent, but at least he was not shouting for her to be hanged.

Marianne had boldly turned to him after the incident and told him the wedding was off. He saw the tears shimmering in her eyes and when he tried to consol her, she had merely smiled. "It is not your irrational anger at the stranger that I am upset about, but my own lack of any emotion. I clearly do not love you, and something with that girl has riled a passion that you might want to investigate." Petting his arm affectionately, she kissed him on the cheek. Then, taking her own entourage, she left the Georgio estate back for Veryn.

Lord Georgio himself was the one to go to the King once tale of what had happened reached him. "Highness, I do not know what happened. All I know is that my daughter, the one you gave me, has been cursed foul. Why you think she did this intentionally, I do not know." It was those words that brought up long-forgotten memories of those years past. "The girl I charged you with.. The Gretel founding?" Hansel posed the question to the man.

"Yes, your Highness. My daughter, Gretel. She saved your life once. I doubt she has the heart to intentionally harm anyone." Hansel heard the man's words. Somewhere in his rational mind, he comprehended them, yet the dark rage still frazzled at the edges.

"Regardless, she just caused the abolishment of a treaty. This curse of her that she has been passing off as a gift is harmful. She will be incurred into my castle until I have decided what to do with her." For some reason, the idea of traveling away from her, even with the aversion, felt wrong. Hansel needed to keep her close at hand.

"She will be in my care, Georgio. If we cannot find a solution to this problem, she will be executed. She may be far more dangerous than either of us can fathom." At the dreaded word 'execution', Georgio paled. His body stiffened and he bowed formally. "As his Majesty commands. I ask that you give us a few minutes before you depart to draft her a few letters saying goodbye. It is the only way we can communicate without triggering the magic."

Nodding, Hansel acquiesced. Then, turning on his boot heel, he walked away to prepare for the trip home.

Chapter Six: The Castle and Imprisonment

The trip to the castle was miserable. Gretel had not been given anything but a small sack of personal belongings. Within it held the precious letters written to her by her own loved ones. She had not had a chance to read them yet and she hoped that they would provide some solace in this darkened time. These items were taken from her the moment they reached the grounds, presumably to be placed where ever she would end up staying.

The first order of business was to get his advisors working on a treaty negation that did not involve tying their lands together. Now that the wedding was off, he had to be sure that it would not be perceived as having been a forced sham.

The second order of business involved the girl herself. He had Gretel brought into his own personal chambers, the guards warned that they were to remove her once he clearly expressed so. As she was escorted in, Hansel felt a sneer touching his lips. That cold anger began to bubble once more. "Come now, dear. You have just successfully chased away my bride. At least let me see your face.." His words were cold and biting, any politeness chased away.

With shaking fingers, she slid the pins out of her hair that held the veil in place. Pulling the lace into her hands, she crumpled it between her fingers. Gretel kept her eyes trained on the floor, tracing a particularly intricate pattern upon the carpet.

Despite his loathing, Hansel let out a woosh of appreciative breath as she removed her covering. She was gorgeous. The small hint of the child he remembered had certainly not prepared him quite for this. He paced forward, stopping within inches of her. Sliding his fingers into her hair, he marveled for a moment at the silky texture of the gold through his hand before gathering a fistful and jerking her head back sharply. Tears sputtered in the corners of her eyes as she looked up at him, wide and more than a little afraid. He felt a momentary thrill of satisfaction at that and growled softly.

"Now then, my little cursed witchling. You are rather pretty. Tell me, and tell me true.. did you enchant my Marianne? Did you contrive this all as a ruse to entrap me?" Gretel swallowed. Despite the harsh planes of his face, he was still handsome. Mixed with his words, the tears trickled more. This was all wrong. Every adolescent fantasy was being destroyed by the very interaction she was having here. Indeed, she was beginning to understand 'broke my heart in 'twain'.

"No, your highness.. I have cast no spells upon you." Her response only resulted in a harsher tug. "Oh, but have you not? Your siren's call.." Hansel's free hand traveled down the front of her gown and across her breast. In response, Gretel's face turned pink. "In your maiden's blush.." Hansel's voice was cutting. In a jarring move, his fingers tore the front from her bodice, exposing her breasts to the air. "And carved from beauty's perfection." His hand latched onto her breast, stroking it in a lover's caress before he took it up painfully. "And did you hope to enflame me to the throne?" His voice lowered to the barest of a whisper as he leaned in close to her ear.

Beyond embarrassment, and enraged now herself, her body stiffened. Though magic was the driving for behind her punishment, she would not allow herself to be treated that way. "I would rather enflame a dog."

That statement, partially due to the stunning bite she returned and partially due to the humor, shocked him enough that he let her go and pushed her away. "Place her in the dungeon. See that she is in low enough that her whispers will not taint my ears." Smiling at her maliciously, Hansel took a step back as the guards came forward. Holding the torn fabric to herself while using the veil as a shield, Gretel exited with all of the grace she could muster, her back ramrod straight. As she moved away, Hansel let his gaze run appreciatively over. Love or Hate was hardly ever a pause for Lust.

***

Locked away in a dank cell far below the earth, Gretel allowed the tears to come. They fell in heart-wrenching sobs upon the cold stone. Wrapping her veil around herself in the way of a shawl, she rocked back and forth gently. It was cold and damp. Curled up on her little cot, she wondered just how many people had met their fate down here. Would she be locked up and forgotten?

It was not fair! The only reason why she had gotten cursed to begin with was because she saved Hansel's life. She had not told him to come, had not intended that such a horrid reaction would occur. Her heart ached deep in her chest. Why did he even react so violently towards her anyway?

He did not know who she was; he had not seen her face. So why such deep and intense hatred? Even now, she could feel an odd connection with him, a strange animosity that lingered in the air. Could it perhaps be that her own emotions had perpetuated this? Even though others felt hatred around her, she did not feel it towards them. Did the curse measure her own feelings for that person and send them back at her? If that was so.. then perhaps she did 'enchant' the King.

She was at fault.

***

In his own chambers above, Hansel paced the floor. Dismissing all of his guards, he allowed his own frustration and musings vent. He had clearly felt the moment she had been moved out of range so that the spell no longer gripped him. With the wash of relief, came a deep well of disgust at his own actions. The lust, however, still remained.

That she was still gorgeous was clear in his mind; the dark hue of her eyes, just a bit large for her face, the silkiness of her hair. Rubbing his fingers together now he could still catch a memory of its feel. She had smelled nice, too. A faint mix of jasmine and rose.

After the treaty had been worked out, he had asked about his new and unusual prisoner. Gretel.. the peasant girl that had saved him eight years ago. It had been confirmed by the records. He had also discovered that the curse she had been plied with was a result of her successful shove.

Yet, she was still dangerous. Sighing, he poured himself a goblet of wine. Slumping into a chair he began to drink. Drink until he could sleep, or come up with a solution.

***

The darkness outside of her cell was disturbed by a rattle. Half-asleep, Gretel sat upright, clinging the lace to herself tightly. Her eyes peered into the black shadows intently, waiting. "Please... no rats."

The rattle sounded again before the loud squeak of a door on its hinges. A splash of faintly yellow light seeped in from beyond, leaking around a tall form holding a ring of keys. As the man walked down the sparse hall, he stopped outside Gretel's cell.