Fairy Tale Dreams by MysticMoon

Prologue: Dreams

"A dream is a wish your heart makes - When you're fast asleep." --Cinderella

They stand in the forest clearing, their bodies bathed in the light of the full moon. He holds her gently from behind, content to leave his chin atop her head. His silvery-white hair mingling with her dark raven's wing tresses. How long they were like this, neither had a clue.

First things first. He asks the same question. The same exact one.

"Who are you?" he asks softly. His breath tickling as it flutters past her ear.

"Who are -you-?" she replies, unconsciously leaning her back towards him. Her voice is like the tinker of silver bells.

The same exact reply. Every single time. It doesn't really bother him anymore. He's gotten used to it after all these years. It's the opening of every one of their encounters here. Every month. Under the full moon.

Then, he turns her slowly around in his embrace. Like always, he cannot see any distinguishable features on her face. Like always, it is hidden in shadow. He knows it is the same thing when she looks at him.

He takes a step back and gazes with hidden golden eyes at the rest of her. Again, nothing has been changed, she still wears the silver-blue dress she does each time. Her hair is up in a twist on the back of her head with dark blue-black tendrils escaping to caress the milky white of the skin that is revealed to him. On her tiny feet are the strangest shoes he has ever seen. They seem to be made out of glass. She looks absolutely breathtaking.

He bows and holds out his hand for her to take, then hears the music float through the air. Just like clockwork. It was a beautiful melody, almost haunting in it's quality. She curtsies and puts her small pristine white gloved hand in his and they begin their waltz dance.

He twirls her around in his arms and hears the gentle swish of her dress. His hands and feet feel like someone else is controlling him. Like a puppet with strings that puppeteers use to entertain village children. But he has adjusted over the years to finally accept that he could do nothing to stop it.

He rather liked dancing with this fantasy girl, anyway.

As the music draws to a close, he spins her once more in his arms.

Then, they again take up their previous stance. With him loosely holding her from behind. This full moon encounter should end soon.

"How have you been?" he asks, just to fill in the silence. It was a comfortable silence, but he wanted to hear the nice sound of her voice.

It is like the finest of tunes. Every word sweet. It gently wafts in the imaginary breeze and surrounds him. Calming him like nothing else.

She doesn't reply for a time and he wonders if she even will.

Something small and wet drops on his hand. Tears. She is crying.

"Why?"

"It's getting too much. I can't live like I do. He will kill us soon, I'm sure of it." she says quietly, her beautiful voice breaking slightly.

She has never talked about her life before. Whenever he would ask, the question would always be met by silence or a the shake of a head. He could never really deep down blame her for that. After all, those were the same responses he gave to those inquiries.

This was the place where they could both escape. Escape from nightmares and reality. The peace and serenity they could go to, even for one night of the month. They were strangers, yet they were the closest of friends.

He cannot answer, no matter how much he wanted to stop her silent weeping. He does not know what she is talking about.

He is not given a chance to reply. The dream ends.

~*~*~*~

At precisely midnight, a prince wakes up to the darkness of his large room. He sits up and his long silver hair, not one bit disheveled even through sleep, cascades over his broad shoulders.

"She is no fantasy...she is real." he whispers quietly.