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King Phillip and Queen Aurora
"Darling, please," pleaded King Phillip, kneeling beside Queen Aurora's silken, four-poster bed. Finding her dainty left hand in the folds of the gold-woven sheets, Phillip continued: "In only one month, the baby will be born, and…" "No." Aurora turned her head to face her husband, scattering golden locks across the starch-white pillow. "This isn't about the baby… I just…" her sea-blue eyes filled with tears. Philip reached up to comfort her, but Aurora caught his hand halfway and rested it on her protruding belly. "I guess it is the baby. I… I can't have her!" the queen burst out. Phillip's heart matched the fluttering of the miracle inside his disconsolate wife. "Of… course you can have the baby! We've been waiting so long, and when the doctor said the possibilities were few, I…" Aurora cut him off. "I don't want sympathy!" she snapped. She pushed herself up to a sitting position (with some difficulty) and rested her hand on her stomach. "What if the doctor's words hold truth? What if the baby will be born with a … problem?" Phillip rose and sat beside Aurora. Putting one arm around her slim frame, he pulled her close. Aurora nestled into his shoulder, letting tears drip onto his leather vest. "You'll still love our child if she isn't perfect, won't you?" Phillip whispered. Aurora slowly sat up. "Y-yes. Of course I would."
King Phillip spoiled his wife until the day came when she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The child was in no means worldly beautiful- she had an inward-turned foot and an irreparable blindness in her left eye. But her heart was as kind and sweet as her mother's once was, and the kingdom rejoiced. Suddenly, all the girls who weren't pretty enough, or smart enough, suddenly found themselves achieving their hopes and dreams, inspired by the young princess's beauty. And Aurora was a much more humble mother, wife, and queen.
King Charming and Queen Cinderella
King Charming hunched over his mahogany desk, frantically scribbling with parchment and led. A small blond lad poked his head into the study room and toddled in to stand beside the busy king. "Father?" the boy asked, setting a small rubber ball on the desk beside his father's elbow. "Will you play with me?" "Not now, Henry. Father's busy," Charming said, absentmindedly setting the ball on the ground. Henry's big brown eyes filled with tears and dejectedly shuffled out into the hall, nearly bumping into a stout woman with a white apron tied around her plump waist. Seeing the hurt in the young prince's eyes, the nanny scooped him up and made for the kitchen to give him a treat, nearly knocking into the queen. "My apologies, Highness!" exclaimed the nurse. "That's all right, Mathilde. But what's this?" The queen turns and runs her fingers through Henry's bright blond hair. "Father won't play with me," Henry sniffled. The queen's face clouded for an instant, then she seemed to recover. "How about nurse takes you to the garden to play, and I'll have a talk with your father." Henry nodded, and the nurse whisked him away down the hall. The queen sighed, lingering by the study room door. She pushed a lock of goldenrod hair behind her ear, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. King Charming, still bent over his work, barely noticed his wife enter. "Char," began Cinderella, "Can we talk?" "Hm?" the king said, still bent over his work. Cinderella frowned. "Charming!" she said sharply. The king looked up, surprised, and set down his pencil. "I'm sorry, my love. Continue?" "We need to talk. About our child. He loves you so much, and all he wants is your approval. Can't you see that?" Cinderella closed her eyes to hold back tears when Charming took her hand. "I'm so sorry. I've been so busy lately. I'll make it up to you. "And Henry?" the queen inquired. The king smiled and picked the rubber ball up off the floor. "I have a game to play."
King Charming and Queen Cinderella had many marital struggles throughout their lives, and their hearts eventually grew apart. Prince Henry became King Henry, and was given permission to choose his own bride instead of an arranged marriage. Overwhelmed with responsibility, Henry turned into a workaholic himself.
Princess Snow and Prince James
Princess Snow sits on the marble bench in the garden, picking petals off of a creamy white rose. "He loves you," says a voice behind her. Snow jumps, then whips around and smiles. "James, you scared me! Of course you do, I wasn't playing that silly game." Prince James frowns, then walks over and sits beside his wife. "Snow," he starts, "I know what you're feeling right now. I wanted kids too, but you can't blame yourself for…" he trails off when he sees Snow's long-lashed eyes fill with tears. "Three, James," she says quietly. "Three?" the prince asks, confused. "Miscarriages," the princess says, then leans into the prince's open arms and lets her blue eyes spill over with tears and releases a sob. James strokes her back and kisses the top of her head. Snow sits up slowly with bloodshot eyes, a determined look on her face. "Unless…" she whispers. "Unless… what?" James asks. Snow looks down, avoiding the prince's eyes. James realizes in an instant what she is thinking. "Snow," he says sternly, placing his hand under her soft chin to meet his eyes. "I will not let you endanger your life making a deal with scum like Rumpelstiltsken. He will kill you." Snow looks up tearfully. "But-" Prince James cuts her off. "No negotiating. You are forbidden to go there." Snow rises and walks back towards the palace doors, distraught. James watches her go, then picks up the fallen petals. "I can't lose you, too".
Later that evening, Princes Snow tells her ladies-in-waiting that she has gone to bed, then sneaks out of her room. "I'm sorry, James," she whispers as she walks to the dungeon door. The guards bow and open the door to let her in, letting a stale, musty smell escape. Snow carefully descends the creaky wooden steps, walking past caged murderers and thieves, and stopping at the last cage. "I'm here to make a deal," the princess says, hoping her voice doesn't sound as scared as she is. A misshapen figure appears out of the shadows. "What brings the high, high highness down to my humble abode?" the figure croaks. Rumpelstiltsken steps forward and snakes his hand through the prison bars to point at Snow White's stomach. "A baby, maybe, a baby," he says in an off-key singing voice. "A child is what you wish, I have a potion for your wish, but what about my wish?" He grins, showing all of his crooked yellow teeth. Snow says coolly "What do you want in exchange for the potion?" "Oh, couldn't say yet, dearie," says the creature, his voice as slippery as a snake's, "Old Rumpel will need just a little thing for later." "Done," says the princess, then takes the bottle from Rumpel's outstretched hand. She runs back up the stairs, runs down the hall, and rushes into her room, shutting the door tightly behind her. Here goes, she thinks, and passes the bottle's contents past her blood-red lips.
Snow White and James were overjoyed when nine months later, a healthy baby girl was born to them. All seemed well-until the princess became deathly ill with influenza. Her loving husband called the greatest doctors in the world to heal her, but to no avail. Snow White died on her daughter's first birthday. On that fateful day, Rumpelstiltsken was overheard repeating, "Only a little thing, dearie. Only a little thing."
Prince Adam and Princess Belle
Belle creeps down the basement stairs, stopping at the creaking of a floorboard, then warily continuing. In the middle of the dark room, a cloth on a table glows faintly form the inside. Belle approaches it, and pulls off the covering, revealing a delicate hand mirror, with carvings of tiny roses and studded with creamy white pearls. She tentatively picks up the beautiful speculum and whispers "Show me the future." The mirror's face swirls with clouds, then clears, showing whizzing automobiles, movie theatres, guns and cannons, television, computers… Belle's eyes widen, then the corners crinkle as she smiles. "Enough," she commands, and the mirror flashes to the princess's reflection once again. Belle places the mirror into the folds of her apron and turns to the stairs.
Later that night, Adam senses unease in his wife's demeanor. "Belle?" he asks, "what's wrong?" "Nothing," replies Belle, "You should ask what is right." Adam frowns. "So, what is right?" Belle brings out the mirror from her skirt and places it near Adam's hand. "This." The prince jumps back as if she had shown him a cobra. "I thought you destroyed that long ago! We have to get rid of it- its power is much too strong for anyone to have!" Belle hugs the mirror to her chest. "No!" Do you know how rich we can become? People will pay a fortune to have their future told!" Adam glares at her and says sternly, "We have much more riches than most people, and this-" he gestures to the mirror "is not included in our future together!" In one last resort, Belle works up some tears in her puppy-brown eyes and pleads, "Please, darling. It will stay in the basement, just please let me keep it!" Adam sighs and rubs his forehead. "Fine. But if it passes one inch from the basement stairs, it's going straight into the fire." Belle nods and pretends to look remorseful while inside sighing in relief. "Don't worry, Adam. You can trust me."
And Belle was right- for all of two days. Little did she know that the one who used the mirror was cursed to long for the mirror's power. Soon, she dared to sneak the mirror out of the basement and sell fortunes in the streets behind her husband's back. Belle's health started to deteriorate- enough was never enough, and little by little her body became overrun with greed, until her own selfishness killed her. Adam was so grief-stricken over his beloved wife's death that he became as ugly as he once was, and vowed never to love again.
Thanks for reading everyone! Sorry about some of these- kind of depressing :( Anyway, like I said before it makes my day when I see reviews! Thanks again!