Enchanted Love

The Cricket and The Wolf

Fairytale Land –sixty-four years ago…

Fairy Castle

Rhuel’a looked around at her surroundings, taking in the awed and curious looks of the fairies around her.

“Wh-What am I doing here?” she asked, suspiciously, not trusting the fairies… they were magic, magic was power, and power… could be deadly…

“Well my dear,” Amaria, the Fairy Queen murmured, “You’re here because you…”

“I what?” Rhuel’a asked, arching a thin eyebrow suspiciously.

Amaria shook her head. “Never mind, my dear… come, my daughter Triselle will show you to your new quarters, and help you find something to wear…but first, there is the matter of your name.”

“My name?” Rhuel’a asked, “Whatever is the matter with it?” Her eyes were ablaze, her posture challenging.

“Nothing at all, my dear…” Amaria said, wincing. This young fairy to be had quite a temper when things did not go the way she sought them to.

She would have to learn to reign in her emotions, and think of others, for the sake of the kingdoms, and her own.

“Then why do I have to change it?” she asked.

“You may keep it if that is what you desire,” Amaria said, seeking to make peace. “However, I suggest a change”

“Why?!” Rhuel’a screamed.

“…because, my dear… you can no longer go back to the Earth where you lived as a human being…”

“And why is that?” Rhuel’a snapped.

Amaria and one of her wise council fairies exchanged a dubious look.

“You are dead”

Rhuel’a gasped, not able to say another word…

Fairy Tale Land- One year after the death of Rhuel’a LaGhorm


It was night nearing the dark of evening.

In a nomad’s yellow and red painted wagon Martin and Myra’s Puppets, the heads of both Martin and Myra tossed and turned in sleep.

Their son, little Jiminy, only a season old started to fuss and finally wail.

His bowels had burst into the night and after gagging as they changed him, his parents had placed him in a hay bed with the horses, hoping the fresh air would cool their station.

Adding insult to injury the babe had cooed and giggled before his parents had seen to punish him.

What Martin and Myra had failed to realize, was that it was getting colder.

It would not do to have the child fighting the cold to stay alive… he started to wail, alerting his parents to his presence, not knowing what else to do.

“Ughh! Cut it out you pesky little bug! Shut up!” Martin growled.

As if out of spite, at least in Martin’s mind, the babe wailed louder.

Martin shoved his wife roughly, trying to wake her up.

“Myra….MYRA!” Myra shot up still halfway asleep.

“Huh- wha-?” Martin snorted.

“Wake up- the little pest is hungry.”

Myra yawned loudly. “Oh-ok”

Even after three months, Myra was starting to feel her age-she had ceased feeding the child a month ago.

Fortunately, she’d been able to purchase a milk stone, to keep the lad from starving.

As she came out of the wagon, she wondered why Jiminy had stopped crying, all of a sudden.

Myra gasped, dropping the clay bottle, the new milk the stone had created seeping out onto the forest floor.

She shook as she caught sight of why her son had ceased all but breathe deeply in sleep, while in the arms of the very creature, she’d had sworn to be dead…

“Good evening, Madame Puppet” the creature sneered. “My… what a handsome boy you have…” the creature’s grin was malicious at best.

“Aww… he looks just like his father…”

Never had Myra longed to scream, cry, and hold her baby close to her than in that moment…

She stood still, frozen, before falling faint... just barely noticing the mushroom style revealing dress, the faint flutter, and a quick flash of blue…

One Year Earlier- Fairy Castle

“What on Twinkle’s Tiny Terrace do you mean ‘I’m dead’?” Rhuel’a shrieked.

“I don’t know where I am, but any second now, I will wake up from this nightmare and be in the arms of my dear Martin…”

She trailed off when Amaria shook her head.

“That is not possible. You are indeed dead, Rhuel’a, and you need to accept that, as you need to accept the fact that Martin Puppeteer is in union with another, and can never be yours.”

Seeing that Rhuel’a was in no mood to heed her words, Amaria nodded her head at two fairies, floating nearby.

(Scene changes as Rhuel’a was dragged through a makeover, Amaria’s voice in the background.)

The bath was too cold, the spring was too hot, her hair was yanked uncomfortably, her eye was nearly taken out by the black wand of death, and her new wings felt funny. She loved how low the dress was, though.

“From this day forward, your name shall be Rheul Ghorm, or the Blue Fairy, also to some as the Blue Star”

Rhuel’a rolled her eyes, but nodded, accepting her fate.

“You are to put away any selfish motives from you… you exist now to protect those around you, as well as humans, and attempt to bring the light of peace and truth to the world”

As you accept this wand of pure light magic, you must vow to do all you can to protect it, your sisters, and the Earth dwellers from harm.

In no way are you to use this wand for your own gain, directly or indirectly. Do you vow to uphold these standards?”

Rhuel Ghorm, as she was now called, rose before the fairy queen in a new, very revealing mushroom dress, translucent wings fluttering and looked her in the eye.

“I do” she murmured. She would get revenge on Martin Puppeteer, if it was the last thing she’d do! She would also see to it that things were to run properly on Earth… and nothing anyone did was going to stop her!


Ten years after Jiminy is born…

Rumpelstiltskin sat in a shadowed corner of his favorite pub, the Lion’s Den.

He nursed his fifth ale this evening, though he was quickly getting drunk.

I’m all the better for it he thought as he hiccupped, tittering as he attempted to cover his mouth before he belched.

Enough! He heard the voice in his head. You came to find the bean, now find it!

Yes, a bean… a magic bean to be exact. The bean that would help him forget his woes and to find his lost son, Baelfire, and to forget that his wife Milah was dead…by his hands.

What woman would want him now? He was a sod…a rogue, and a murderer to boot! The only power he held to his name was that cursed knife!

“Dark One” Rumpelstiltskin raised his head to barely see woman, a tall dark woman, who held an aura of power and desire…

“W-what can I do for you, dearie?” he slurred, and giggled.

The maid who had served him the ale started over to his table, but was stopped by the handsome spectacled barkeep, who placed a gentle hand on her arm and shook his head as she glanced back at him.

“Come with me,” Rumpel’s dark siren hissed, and nearly growled. “You have what I want, and I can help you take your pain away…completely…”

“Dearie…”Rumpel grinned, still somewhat drunk, but more than willing to respond to her request, “you’ve got a deal…”

The maid gulped as she watched the wounded man slip away with his lady of the night… this night would not end well…

The next morning…

When the barkeep went to open the shutters the next morning, he glanced puzzled over at one of the tables.

There was the barmaid, fast asleep against one of the tables, her waist uncomfortably braced against her serving tray.

Trying not to laugh aloud, the barkeep quietly made his way to her, stroking her cheek with his two fingers.

“I trust you slept well” he smiled, trying not to laugh. She looked at him confused, still half asleep.

“I didn’t think so” he grinned. He was just about to hoist her upstairs to her room for some rest, before the cook bounced a heaping plate of food on the table, making the maid jump.

She whimpered slightly, and the barkeep frowned at the cook. “Was that necessary?” he asked.

The cook eyed him, hands on her hips, giving him The Look. “I think so, don’t you, Mr. Halo? oh! Hello!”

All three watched as Rumpelstiltskin came down, holding his head, and his stomach. He looked ill.

He grunted a reply, not ready to join the world just yet. Neither was the barmaid, the barkeep thought wryly.

“You hungry?” asked the cook.

“No, thank you” Rumpelstiltskin scowled. His stomach let out a fierce growl.

“Don’t you walk out that door without something in your stomach” the cook warned.

Rumpel raised an eyebrow at her, scowling even more. The glare the cook gave him was enough to give the barkeep the shudders, who protectively held on to the barmaid, equally frightened.

“Fine…something for the road then… I’m in a hurry…”

"You gotta be with all them deals you be making" the cook muttered under her breath. "Especially with a werewolf pregnant with your baby…"

The barmaid looked at the cook in horror. The barkeep firmly shook his head at Rumpelstiltskin, who looked ready to disembody the cook. She’d forgotten about his hearing…


As Rumpelstiltskin left with a generous tip for the barkeep and a gallant bow to the barmaid, he went on his way back to the Dark Castle.

He had a trip to make to the kingdom of Avonlea... he’d been summoned some time ago by King Maurice’s beautiful daughter, though Rumpelstiltskin had not caught her name.

From what he had seen of her though, she was drop dead gorgeous…not that he was willing to do so for her sake of course…

Ah well, best to see what deal could be made of this one, and being a showman, it was not in Rumpelstiltskin’s nature to be late…

No indeed…

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