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 No Matter How Much It Hurts, Chapter One

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PostSubject: No Matter How Much It Hurts, Chapter One    Tue Dec 20, 2011 11:39 pm

A 'Once Upon A Time' Fanfic of mine (which you can read in full on fanfiction.net if you so choose)
No Matter How Much It Hurts
Chapter One
No one knows I exist- not in my part of the Enchanted Forest. Well, perhaps they know I exist, but certainly not as her daughter. If anyone knows of me in other parts of the Enchanted Forest, it’s because they’ve seen me with my ‘mother’, Maleficent, who ‘adopted’ me when her pet couldn’t make her happy. Of course no one knows from whom. I do, of course. I’ve known since I looked in that mirror and saw the tumbling black curls and deep brown eyes. The Evil Queen-if she has a name, no one dares say it-is my true mother. The Huntsman, the traitor and liar that he was, is my father. Maleficent is the idiot around me-playing the role of mother, telling me nothing more than I was adopted. She thought I couldn’t guess? She thought I wouldn’t know? I’m a child to her, of ‘nothing but fourteen years’. My spirit is as strong as hers, my evil as powerful as my mothers, my hatred as deep as the Dark Curse itself. Maleficent is the biggest fool of them all and I despise her with everything I am. She knows this; at least she is not a fool there. Her heart, what a fool she is to posses one, will break when she comes to my bedchamber at dawn. I will be gone. She will know where to go, whom to fight. But that is no problem of mine. Mother can defeat her; crush her as easily as a fly. Maybe then Maleficent the Stupid will see her foolishness-that heart of hers. Oh, how I hate it.
It takes only one knock. My knuckles meeting it once makes the strong, deep echo throughout the entire castle, as if I have caused a great waterfall to tumble a thousand times stronger. The knights I have always seen around her come to the door.
“You were not called upon.” He says, like I am a meager beggar or the village fool.
“She knows who I am.”
“She does not want to see Maleficent. Go.” He starts to shut the door, but it takes one step for me to be inside, pulling my cape behind me. “I said go!” He draws a knife, so well cleaned it is reflective as a mirror.
I laugh and it causes him to falter. It is the laugh of his mistress, who I know is merely upstairs in her black gowns, plotting her revenge against that blasted Snow White.
“Who are you?” He asks, as if he has not seen me come with Maleficent once a year on the eve of my birthday.
“A friend. Admit me to her.”
“She does not wish for company.”
My eyes go as cold as hers. “Take me to her.” It drips with the coldest ice, the sensation only his mistress can give.
He stammers, stupid fool. “Of-of course.”
“I said I don’t want company.” Her back is to us; she is seated at a desk, having paused in her writing. Her voice echoes, filled with annoyance and ice. If he is killed for admitting me, so be it. A lowly guard is none of my concern.
“My queen.” I say, before a response can come from his lips. It is filled with ice, but not completely. It has only the slightest hint, enough for her to turn and set her eyes upon me, the girl she knows is hers.
“I do not wish to see Maleficent.” She keeps looking at me, her eyes threatening to glare into my soul, down to the heart she thinks I have.
“I’m not here with that heart filled fool.”
She smiles-she always knew her blood ran in my veins. “Excuse us.” The guards leave in a hurry. Her smiles are always cold, but this has the slightest warmth, something they will never see again. “Sit down dear. I believe this has been a long time coming.”
She sits on an elegant chaise in front of a fire. Her dress is long and black with a high collar covered in diamonds. It sweeps the floor and has long sleeves that end at the tips of her pinkies, dripping with more diamonds. The bottom is open, her legs covered by a blood red skirt. Her hair, the midnight black that I inherited, is kept up high in a ponytail that then spills down, over her chest, ending right above her stomach. Her eyes are the deep, cruel brown I also have. Only a fool would think we weren’t related.
“Are you thirsty?” She claps her hands as I sit too, but not at all where she thought. The end of the chaise, where her legs are resting, is where I decide to make myself comfortable. With a flash of icy eyes, she lets me sit down there.
“One drink my dear?” Her father stands in the doorway, his old wrinkled face surprised at the sight of me. Perhaps he never knew. Perhaps he knows everything.
“Two.” She says this with no ice, but no warmth either. I’m just learning to control my voice as she does. “Now dear.” She turns to me again, now that we are alone. “Tell me why you’re here.”
I have a straight back; my black cloak still covers my forest green dress with its light gold embroidery. She would not be as welcoming if I were to show any color on my person. “You know in full why I’m here. Mother.” The last word is dripping with ice, the most ice I have learned to give my words.
She blinks slowly, as if she is considering not opening her eyes again. Her face has formed an expression of deep disgust. “She told you.” Her voice and eyes have re-welcomed her icy soul.
“Of course not.” I scoff, as if such a thing were obvious. This startles her, makes her falter for just a moment. Which of course she hates doing.
“Don’t mock me!” She stands, whipping the blackness behind her, the hatred boiling up through her voice and eyes. A breeze makes the fire go out and a chill enters the room. “I’m not a fool Dusyanta.”
I laugh, as if she is humorous. She pauses; again I have caught her off guard. My laugh is so much like hers, she didn’t expect it. “I know my real name isn’t Dusyanta. It means ‘destroying evil’. And I certainly wouldn’t destroy myself.” I flash her a cold smile. “Or you.”
This makes her calm and she sits again, leaving the end of the chaise for me. “So how did you know? Your real name and who you came from.”
“I’m not a child. I own a mirror, I have working eyes. It took a minute, nothing more. My hair is midnight; my eyes are cruel and brown. I’m undeniably your daughter.”
She smiles, icy yet warm. “Of course you’re not a child. Tell me, what’s your real name?”
“That I do not know for sure, I simply know that for a fact Dusyanta does not suit me. I’m a daughter of evil itself. Only a fool with a heart would give me a name that means destroying evil.”
She pauses for a moment. “I named you Ivy. It’s the only plant without a heart-it doesn’t care where is grows, if it kills another plant or makes a house crumble. I knew it would suit you.”
“You let Maleficent rename me.”
“I didn’t know until your second birthday, when you responded to that horrible name. I almost made her give you back.”
I raise an eyebrow and reach for the thin, tall glass of wine from her father’s tray. She speaks openly in front of him. He knows everything. “Why didn’t you want me back?”
She laughs and looks at the ceiling, then back at me with wide eyes that are supposed to hold emotion. “Ivy, this kingdom is almost mine. Snow White is off in the woods, everyone believing her dead. I’m their queen now, they have no one else. Unless, of course, they decided to overthrow me because I was promiscuous. Do you know what that means?” She eyes harden. “It means a woman who sleeps with anyone and everyone. Her bed is never still and never empty. And for me, to bear a child, with no husband and the only man known to enter here was nothing but a Huntsman-the title would mark me instantly.”
My eyes go just as cold as hers. “I was nothing but an accident. The daughter of a lonely huntsman you never wanted. Why didn’t you just kill me?”
She laughs, as if I’ve said something humorous. “Of course I wanted you. But I wouldn’t raise you with a horrible title and homeless. You deserved better-much better. Maleficent wanted something new to make her happy after Aurora defeated her and I killed her stupid pet. A baby seemed good enough. No one was surprised. These people are now in my grip-whatever power they thought they had is completely gone. I can claim you as mine and no one will rise, no one will rumor, no horrible titles will be thrown. And now that you’ve chosen to release yourself from Maleficent and have come to me, I can claim your blood.”
I smile, warmth filling it. “And I will claim yours. And then,” I turn icy. “We can work on destroying Snow White. Together.”
She laughs and hugs me. “Of course. What else would we do?”

Last edited by Luv2Type on Mon Dec 26, 2011 2:04 am; edited 2 times in total (Reason for editing : Promiscuous means a 'loose' or 'sexually immoral'. Does that work, Wonderland?)
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PostSubject: Re: No Matter How Much It Hurts, Chapter One    Fri Dec 23, 2011 7:11 pm

Okay, I don't know who edited my sentence to say 'crazy freak' but you could've at least put something better in there. And 'crazy freak!' can be used as a technical term too-I believe it was used in the Bible once. And honestly, if someone's going to edit it, you could at least reply too.
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PostSubject: Re: No Matter How Much It Hurts, Chapter One    Fri Dec 23, 2011 9:03 pm

Actually, no one edited it. There's a setting on Wonderland that censors certain curse words. Er, do you maybe have an alternative word you'd rather it enters?


Life is like thunder; powerful, confusing, wonderous, loud, inexplainable, sudden, beautiful in ways you can't even begin to describe, and completely unexpected. Death is like lightning; it strikes even the most powerful things, and shoots through the ground to everyone nearby, leaving them with only a painful aftershock.

Almost dying changes nothing. Dying changes everything.

Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it.
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No Matter How Much It Hurts, Chapter One
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