Notes: Well, it was ten to midnight and I figured there was still time to squeeze a story out of 2010. Which there was. There wasn't, however, time to post it because apparently New Year's is the kind of thing you get dragged away from the computer for. So, here we are. Happy 2011, and may there be health and happiness and cracked out AU's built upon logic of dubious strength.
She's always believed in magic.
Before it was blood in her veins and the beat of her heart, she believed.
Magic was the stories Mama told about people from a faraway world, children of the stars who left their handprints in the sky. Magic was the dizziness of the winter festival, all colors and twirling. Magic was Andros, and the bond between them was all warmth and familiarity and unbreakable.
Now she's called princess and silver crowned, with infinite power they say is magic flowing through her small hands. The word tastes bitter and ill-fitting.
Magic is supposed to be good.