Chapter Text
Once upon a time, because that is how you must start stories such as these, there lived a comfortably noble family on the outskirts of a large kingdom. Mortimer Frump and his wife, Hester, lived an easy life with their two daughters, Morticia and Ophelia. While their life appeared to be all lovely thorns and singing vultures on the outside, on the inside tensions were always running high, which was made much more prominent by Mortimer’s sudden and untimely death.
The death of Mortimer was hardest on their youngest, Morticia. She and Mortimer were always close while Ophelia and Hester were two peas in a very high strung pod. Without Mortimer there to defend her, Morticia fell subject to Hester and Ophelia’s jealous and vengeful wrath. Seeing as losing Mortimer meant losing his income as well, they had to dismiss most of the house staff, leaving all the work up to Morticia as soon as she was old enough to hold a broom. And while this fact meant Morticia daydreamed about poisoning her mother and sister daily, she remained calm and passive and kind in the face of such adversity.
So it had gone for years and years, and Morticia had given up all hope of change. Living as a servant to her own family was how her life was, and she had accepted that. Family was always so important to her father, so how could she betray his memory by running away and leaving her mother and sister to drive their home into ruin?
“Morticia!” came Ophelia’s squealing voice, accompanied by the clanging of her bell ringing incessantly. “Morticia, I’m hungry!”
“I’m coming, Ophelia!” she yelled toward the stairs as she frantically stirred the eggs she was cooking on the stove. She never could understand the unappetizing food her mother and sister always requested she cook, but she did it anyway. Just once she would like to make a nice yak stew, or a zebra steak, something edible.
“Hurry up!”
Morticia sighed and scraped the eggs onto two plates. As she set them down on the serving tray, she thought of the amusement she would get from adding in some broken glass, but ultimately decided against it. She would just have to clean up the blood anyway, why make more work for herself?
“What took you so long?” Ophelia impatiently whined as Morticia entered the grand dining room. “I’m starving to death!”
Morticia ignored the own rumbling of her stomach as she wordlessly set the tray on the table. She could feel her mother’s eyes burning a hole in her back as she set the table, and she knew a strong reprimanding was coming.
“Morticia, you should answer Ophelia when she speaks to you,” Hester said calmly.
“I’m sorry,” she said flatly, turning to look at her sister, who was sitting smugly in her ridiculous pink gown. “There are a lot of stairs.”
“Bah! Details bore me,” Ophelia said snottily, reaching for her fork. “Where is the toast?”
Morticia’s stomach dropped. Instead of letting onto her mistake of just plain forgetting it, she played it off. “It did not fit on the tray. I’ll go get it.”
“Oh, forget the toast,” Hester said, reaching for her glass, which Morticia quickly filled. “I’ll be old and gray by the time you get back with it anyway.”
Ophelia snorted. “Because you weren’t already, Mother?”
Hester sent a venomous glare Ophelia’s way, but didn’t shout at her. Morticia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the unfairness of it all. Since the moment Morticia was born, Hester continued to favor Ophelia for whatever reason. Morticia assumed it was because they were so similar and she was a bit of an outsider. Ophelia could get away with anything whereas if Morticia so much as breathed weird she would be yelled at.
“What are you still doing here?” Hester snapped. “Don’t you have chores to be doing?”
“Yes, Madam,” Morticia said before rushing from the room.
To say she had chores to do was a massive understatement. Morticia was sure if she wrote everything out on a list it would stretch for miles. With a sigh, she decided to head to the barn first to feed the horse. Little did she know what awaited her once she got out there.
…
“Your Highness, come back!”
Gomez looked over his shoulder as he urged his horse faster through the dense woods. “Sorry, old man! You’ll have to catch me!”
“You must come back, you have an obligation!” the servant called out behind him.
Gomez frowned, urging his horse to go even faster. An obligation, what nonsense. How could his parents expect him to marry someone he barely even knew? He wanted to marry for love, not this blasted obligation they kept talking about! So, if that meant running away for a little while this afternoon to get his point across, then so be it. Gomez had always been one for the dramatics, so this stunt should have come as a shock to no one.
His horse leapt a log and took a hard right, completely losing the servant in the process. Gomez let out a triumphant laugh, looking behind him to make sure he was completely in the clear. What he didn’t realize, however, was his horse was approaching a fence that was just a bit too high to jump. The horse stopped short, throwing Gomez from his back and over the fence without much warning.
With a yelp, Gomez landed flat on his face, skidding a few feet in the tall grass. He stayed down for a moment before slowly pushing himself to a sitting position. He spat dirt from his mouth as he flicked his cape back over his head. He looked back just in time to see his horse run away in the opposite direction.
“This is why lions make better pets, you know!” Gomez shouted after the horse.
In the distance he could hear the servant calling for him, so he knew he had to keep moving if he wanted his moment of peace and quiet this afternoon. Doing a quick scan of his surroundings, he noticed a barn a few yards away. Thinking quickly, he pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head and dashed in that direction.
Gomez didn’t much care if his actions were childish, he thought arranged marriages were childish. So he ran and hid, even though he was a grown man. He slipped in through a window in the back of the barn, finding a large black horse being fed by a beautiful girl with two black braids spilling over her shoulders.
Instead of being stealthy like he hoped, Gomez completely fell the rest of the way through, startling the poor girl. “Don’t be afraid!” he yelled as he tried desperately to get his wits about him.
“What are you doing in my barn?”
Gomez looked up to find himself staring down the blade of a rather rusty, old sword. He glanced around, trying to figure out where the sword even came from in the first place. “My lady, I can explain.”
“I trust you will,” she said, thrusting the sword closer to his neck.
He looked up, getting a good look at his attacker's face, finding himself completely thrown by the fact that she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Her dark eyes were staring intently at him, her rose red lips pursed in anger. Though her pale skin was streaked in soot, she seemed to be a specimen of complete perfection.
“My lady,” he said once again, slowly getting to his feet. “I mean you no harm.”
“How am I expected to react to a strange man creeping into my barn when I am all alone?” she asked, her intense eyes searching his face.
“I was simply running from-”
“An officer?”
“What?” he asked, discreetly reaching for his own sword holstered at his hip. “No, of course not.”
“You seem to be a rather guilty man,” she pointed out, her eyes finally locking onto his own. His heart skipped a beat.
“Well then,” he sighed, drawing his sword with a flourish. “Let me prove my innocence.”
Her eyes widened in shock. She quickly blocked his attack with a swiftness he wasn’t expecting. Now with a look of determination, she swung back. The sound of clashing metal echoed through the barn as they spun around in a sort of violent dance routine.
“I don’t see how you’ll prove your innocence by drawing your sword on me,” she said. “If anything I now find you to be even more of a threat.”
“How could I threaten a beauty such as yourself?” he countered.
Seeming to be in total shock from his remark, Gomez was able to disarm her. Her sword clattered to the hay covered ground below. She took a timid step back, holding up her hands in surrender. Keeping to his word, Gomez also threw his sword to the ground and held up his hands as well.
“You see?” he asked. “I merely need a place to hide for an hour or so. I came here with no ill intent toward you… or your horse. Truce?”
She frowned and crossed her arms daintily across her chest. “Very well, a truce it is.”
He let out a relieved sigh. Who was this beautiful maiden who feeds horses and is covered with soot who also fences like a trained knight? She was an enigma he was eager to unravel. The biggest enigma of them all was the fact that she seemingly didn’t recognize him. As the prince, Gomez couldn’t take two steps without someone knowing who he was.
“Where did you learn to use a sword like that?” he asked. “I will admit to being rather impressed.”
“My father taught me when I was very young,” she said, stooping down to pick up his sword. She handed it back to him with a shy smile. “I’m sorry I assumed the worst of you, good sir.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said with a smile. “I often assume the worst of people.”
“Indeed?” She walked over to return her old sword to its hiding spot behind a bale of hay.
“Oh yes, I find it saves time.”
“So you have assumed the worst of me, then?” she asked with a raised brow. It was very enchanting, he couldn’t look away.
He found himself shaking his head as he took a step closer to her. “I’ve assumed you to be an enchantress, and I’ve wandered into your trap.”
She scoffed, looking away from him. “You would be sorely mistaken. I am just a girl.”
“You are not just anything,” he insisted with what he thought was a winning smile. “You’re a princess who has disguised herself, then.”
She laughed, and it was a lovely sound. “Nothing of the sort.”
“I have it!” he said excitedly, walking toward her. “A vampire!”
She shook her head softly. “Very flattering, but no. As I said… I am only me.”
Gomez absentmindedly pulled a cigar from his vest pocket and struck a match against the palm of his hand. “Never in my life have I seen a woman who looks like you. You’re radiant.”
“And I believe you are a liar,” she said, her eyes down cast. “I’ve never been complimented this way in my life, I have trouble believing your authenticity.”
“Believe me, cara mia, I am nothing but honest,” Gomez insisted. He took her hand in his, which shocked her completely.
A faint blush spread across her porcelain cheeks. She kept her eyes on the ground but didn’t pull her hand from his. “This is highly improper. And I know nothing about you, other than the fact that you’re hiding from someone.”
He nodded with intrigue. “You really don’t recognize me, then?”
She finally looked at him, truly studying his face once more. “I do believe I would remember you if we had met before. If I may be candid, yours isn’t a face I would soon forget, if ever.”
“No, I would know if we had met as well,” he said resolutely. “The image of you will forever be seared onto my heart.”
“What did you mean, then?” she asked, her voice verging on breathless.
“I’m sort of… the prince.”
Her eyes widened in shock. She pulled back, dipping into a curtsy. “Forgive me, Your Highness, I was unaware. I meant no disrespect.”
“Please,” he said softly. He put his hands on her shoulders, urging her back to her feet. “I am unworthy of all that. You can just call me Gomez.”
“If you’ll please forgive me, I should go,” she said in a panic, turning toward the doors of the barn.
“Please don’t,” he said, catching her hand once again. “The last thing I wanted to do was frighten you off. I was rather enjoying talking to you. When I woke up and the day was bright and sunny, I thought the day was going to be terrible. But you have turned it around… just you.”
He had nearly forgotten all about the arranged marriage. Looking at this woman in front of him, his only thoughts were of her. Perhaps… it was too silly to even dream, but perhaps he might be permitted to marry this woman. No, his parents would never go for such a thing, unless they met her…
“I was enjoying your company as well,” she quietly admitted. “Even if it started with me holding a blade to your throat.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I liked it.”
She sighed, but a smile passed across her lips. “Prince Charming, is what you are. How could I ever amuse you so?”
“I don’t know if amuse is the right word for how you make me feel,” Gomez said with a grin. “Bewitched is more like it.”
She looked up at him through her dark lashes. “If I may be so bold as to say I find you rather enchanting as well.”
“Be as bold as you like, cara mia.” He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.
“I’m afraid of what might happen if I get much bolder,” she whispered, and he noticed she was trembling slightly.
“I’m not,” he replied with a grin, still holding onto her hand.
“Yes, but you have that luxury. Life is not as simple for me, it would seem.”
He could sense a deep rooted sadness behind her words, and he wanted nothing more than to get to the bottom of it and make it disappear forever. “Would you like to talk about it?”
“About what?” she asked, her eyebrow once again raising.
“Anything,” he replied. “I could listen to you for hours.”
She shook her head. “I’m not that interesting.”
“I disagree wholeheartedly.”
The clanging sound of a bell in the distance made her go stiff. “I have to go,” she said ruefully, pulling away from him. “The barn is yours for as long as you need it.”
“I am done running,” he said resolutely, seeing as she was intent on leaving at the beck and call of a bell. “I have urgent business I must now attend to.” He took her hand again and kissed it once more. “I will be certain to make our paths cross again.”
“I must leave,” she whispered, pulling her hand to her chest. “Thank you for a most pleasantly unpleasant morning.”
The bell continued to clang and she bolted from the barn, her black dress swirling behind her as she ran. Gomez watched in awe for a moment before he too ran off, eager to face his parents for the first time in forever.