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Apple White had been raised to the image of perfection. Or, at the very least, to her mother's image of perfection.
With skin as white as snow, unblemished and smooth like porcelain, just as perfect as she was; there was nothing substantially wrong with Apple White. She was the girl that her mother had dreamed her to be; the girl destined to be the queen and treat all her subjects as perfectly as she would treat herself.
Apple White was perfect.
But, in retrospect, she was nothing but a disaster.
She was selfish and unkind; she thought of herself more than anyone else could have ever imagined. She strived to be what she was meant or supposed to be, even at the cost of other people's own aspirations to be who they wanted to be. Apple White was a Royal—the nemesis of all the Rebels that dared to go against their destinies. She was the image of royalty in the eyes of all those who matched her ideals, and a tyrant in the eyes of those who didn't.
But even a queen had her faults; even a queen could have those that despised her, no matter how perfect she may be.
Raven Queen should have been one of those people; Raven Queen who, despite everything, was destined to be the one to poison her and send her into a slumber in only which she would awaken by the kiss of her true love. Raven Queen who, despite all the venom that would bubble between them, cared about Apple more than anyone else ever had; Raven Queen who, even though destined to fall to her untimely demise at Apple's hands, treated her as though she were the fairest of them all as a true queen should.
Raven Queen was everything Apple White wasn't.
She was destined for evil; destined to fall at the hands of the woman she was meant to poison—whom she would try to kill. But Raven Queen was kind. She was gentle in ways Apple couldn't ever be. Despite her sharp and rugged behaviors and equally tragic fate, she was selfless and thoughtful; she was a woman who would push through all the prejudice thrown her way and defend even those that ostracized her. She was what Apple should be.
But Apple White wasn't Raven Queen.
Apple couldn't think of anyone other than herself; Apple couldn't look past what she was supposed to do, rather than what she and others wanted to do. She held everyone back with a ball and chain; she forbade anyone from doing the things they weren't destined to do. She ridiculed and manipulated those around her in order to get what she wanted—sometimes she never even noticed until it was too late. Apple White was controlling and selfish, and all the things a queen shouldn't be. But no one bothered to notice—no one bothered to correct her—because all they could see was a pretty face and lips so full they could send one into a trance.
They could only see the object that was Apple White. Not the woman who lay underneath.
Apple White was many things.
A queen was not one of them.
To Apple, a queen was meant to protect, defend, and be just. A queen was meant to care about her people and support them even if she weren't able to agree or see eye-to-eye with their ideologies all that well. A queen should be able to stand tall against her enemies and prove that she is better than what others expect of her. A queen was meant to be brave.
Apple was anything but that.
And her cowering beneath her covers as the storm outside rattled her windows only seemed to prove it.
If a queen was meant to defend, then how could she ever face an evil witch when she couldn't even face the rain?
It wasn't even the rain itself that she feared—instead, it was what lay beyond, in a future she had yet to find. She had heard countless stories of her ancestors and how they all fell on a dark and stormy night, the world far too loud for anyone to hear the desperation in her mother's, or grandmother's, or even great-grandmother's cries as they suffocated on the poison that lay otherwise dormant in the apple. She had heard stories of how so many Evil Queen's that came before Raven and her mother had fallen to a premature demise because of the rain. She had thought of how many Evil Queen's to-be were left orphaned in one single night—on how the first Evil Queen wasn't even able to bear her own child and merely gave away her destiny to an unsuspecting soul.
Apple White had heard all the stories there were to tell. She had practically grown up on them.
Snow White had assumed that Apple would grow up relishing in the words she had spoken like they were a blanket of comfort, each word woven into a plush layer with each mention of her ancestor's experience, and that she would hold on to them with hope; to hold on knowing that she would get her happy ending after days upon days of being stuck in an endless abyss of darkness until her prince charming could wake her up.
Snow White had never once bothered to look at her daughter after she closed the book of her oldest recorded ancestor; had never once even considered that the expression on Apple's face was not one of awe, but one of fear laced with anxiety—an uncertainty that would leech onto her for decades to come.
Snow White never once cared to check on her only daughter who would cower on rainy nights beneath thick layers of bedding; never dared to check on the frail girl who looked through her window in fear as she wondered if her own to-be Evil Queen was just as frightened as she was, knowing full well that there was a possibility that she could die in the rain.
Once upon a time, Apple had genuinely cared for Raven's well-being. A part of her still did.
But her mother had been so quick to suppress the flame of sympathy towards her future enemy when she found out about Apple's reoccurring doubts until nothing but a measly ember remained. An ember that she was scared would quell in the rain just outside the window.
Apple was scared that, much like her destiny had told her, she would lose everything beneath the ice-cold drops that fell from the sky.
She was scared of losing days of her life waiting for a prince charming that she wasn't even sure existed.
She was scared of her mother and what she would think when Apple came up to take the throne and rule over masses of people who had followed an Evil Queen for years prior.
She was scared that the Evil Queen—that Raven—would get hurt; that Raven, her Raven, would fall victim to another fallen rock just like the first had.
Apple was scared.
That was not what a queen should be.
The thunder clapped harshly outside, startling Apple from her racing thoughts, her fingers clenching into the fabric of her blanket, pulling it taut over her head. She hoped desperately that the storm would pass quickly and leave her to go back to her own devices. She hoped that Raven—who had been missing for hours now—would walk into their room and give her a hug that would prove that she was okay.
To prove that she would be okay.
The windows rattled against the wind, making Apple's breaths hitch, fear clinging to her bones like rust on a weathered sword. She imagined Raven just outside the walls of the dorm rooms where she and Maddie had planned their tea party. She imagined Raven and Maddie both shocked at the unforeseen weather that interrupted them halfway through, and the panic that settled into the future Evil Queen's bones as the world beneath them shifted and turned as though she were back in Wonderland, raising her high above the ground, before pushing her off and falling to her demise, a boulder the size of a dragon following close behind, and crushing her beneath its weight. She imagined Raven's body, crumpled in on itself, bloody and broken as uncaring Royals rushed past and Rebels swarmed around her, trying to pull her back into the realm of the living.
Her thoughts were unforgiving; her imagination even less so.
Apple didn't even hear the sound of the door clicking open, nor the sound of the insistent curses mumbled beneath angry breaths in both their shared tongue and the Riddlish that was no doubt learned from Maddie.
She didn't even hear the floorboards creaking, or the heavy bag that was thrown onto the hardwood floors; nor did she hear Raven softly calling her name, uncertainty lacing her voice like a pretty little ribbon.
Raven Queen was many things—the future Evil Queen being the most obvious of which; a queen meant to poison Apple and send her into a failed eternal rest; the daughter of a woman so mad and vile that she was sent into a mirror prison for centuries to come; a friend who cared more about the fate of others rather than that of herself. Raven Queen was meant to be evil—she was supposed to be evil—but she was nothing close to it. She was caring and kind, with hands so gentle that they felt like clouds on Apple's skin.
Which was exactly why Apple didn't even feel the girl's hands press onto her arm through the bedsheets.
At least, not until she was shaken out of her trance.
Apple's head shot up from the mass of blankets, eyes wide and glossy as she met a warm, plum gaze that could only ever belong to the girl that was taking over her thoughts. Her body, once filled with ice-cold dread, was instantly warmed, her entire soul melting into a useless puddle as she stared up at Raven with overwhelming relief—Raven who was so selfless and kind that it put even Snow White herself to shame; Raven who was willing to sacrifice it all just to keep those close to her happy.
Raven whom Apple loved so much.
"You're back," Apple managed to breathe out, her entire body wracking with so many feelings that it left her trembling. "You...You came back."
"Of course I did; I live here," Raven reminded her, her hands gentle as they brushed the thick blankets to the side. "I would've hexted you if I was staying over at Maddie's beforehand."
"No, I know, I just—" Apple cut herself off, suddenly aware of the situation she was putting herself in. How would she ever be able to explain the overhanging dread that she felt mere moments ago, with anxieties so vivid in her mind that it left her breathless and desperate for air—for Raven. There was no explaining it; at least, not in the mindset she was in now. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" Raven asked, tilting her head slightly to the side, uncertain and confused. Despite that, her eyes were filled with such warmth that it made Apple feel like she had finally found a sun brighter than the one above. "You've done nothing wrong...that I know of." She paused for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. "You didn't do anything to my side of the room, did you?"
"Of course not," Apple practically scoffed out, her brows furrowing in mild offense. "Why would you ever—" Apple's voice caught in her throat. Apple knew why Raven would assume such a thing. It wouldn't be the first time she's done something to Raven's half of the room without her permission. She knew that Raven had every right to be suspicious of her and her actions—her words even more so. Apple was not trustworthy in Raven's eyes, and even less so to her own. "No, I...I wouldn't ever do that again."
Raven's brows furrowed slightly, the humorous glow that had radiated within them mere moments ago now gone; replaced with something far more serious and concerned. "Apple?" A gentle hand came up to brush a stray strand from Apple's face, before cautiously resting on her cheek. "Are you oka—?"
Lightning crackled and thunder boomed just outside the window, a bright flash of light tearing through the room, making Raven cut her words short. Apple jumped from her spot on the bed, eyes wide and pupils dilated, her head whipping around as she searched for any signs of foreign disarray. You're fine, Apple told herself, taking a deep breath as she forced her nails out of the palm of her hand. Your story hasn't started yet. Raven's story hasn't started. You'll be fine. She'll be fine.
"Apple?" Raven's voice was far more gentle, the look of concern now one of understanding and sympathy. On anyone else, it might have come off as condescending. On Raven, it made her look like an angel. "Do you want me to stay with you?"
Another thing about Raven Queen was how observant she was. Perhaps it was because she was destined to be cunning and vigilant in order to plan out and track Snow White until she dropped dead on the floors of a dusty cabin. Perhaps it was because she was a magic user, long accustomed to noticing the shifts in the air from both her own magic or mother nature deciding to drain the elements around her. Perhaps, it was because Raven was a queen far more worthy of her title than those that came before—more worthy than Apple herself; Raven who had helped more people in a few days than Apple had in a lifetime.
Perhaps it was because Apple had gripped the hand that once rest on her cheek like a lifeline and pulled it close to her chest, practically begging Raven to stay by her side.
"Yes," Apple whispered softly, her head slowly bobbing up and down in a nod, "please."
Raven didn't speak—only smiled—as she gently brushed a finger over Apple's knuckles, urging her gently to move over to the side. Apple complied almost immediately, her body shuffling weakly to the opposite end of the mattress and allowing enough space for Raven to slip in beside her. Raven's movements weren't brash nor rushed; they were precise and methodical in a way that left Apple grateful for the lack of overstimulation that could have otherwise been a catalyst to her malaise.
Something Apple had noticed were the flames that licked at the outline of Raven's skin, purple and ominous, but not at all dangerous. They were completely under Raven's control, and they served to dry Raven's once-soaked shirt and damp hair. She was warm, Apple noticed; but it wasn't in a way that would make one uncomfortable. Apple was a naturally cool person, with skin as cold as ice when touched. It was one of the few things her mother wasn't quite fond of in her persona, but a flaw that she was willing to overlook. It wasn't as though she could change Apple's body temperature with a lesson or lecture of some sort, after all.
It was almost subconscious—an instinct, she would argue—when Apple slid up beside Raven, her cheek resting gently on the taller woman's chest, and she felt herself melt completely into her roommate's body as the flames extinguished themselves, nothing more than steam coming up from Raven's clothes, with the warmth lingering eternally on the witch's skin. Raven wrapped an arm securely around Apple, the latter of which smiled softly as a pair of lips pressed gently onto the side of her head. For the first time in a long while, Apple felt herself relax.
She didn't realize just how exhausted she really was.
Apple White was not perfect.
She was selfish and egotistical; blunt and self-centered. She was scared of losing her place in her mother's story and scared of losing the person that was meant to take everything away from her all the same. She was scared of stories that were meant to entertain children and the rain that drenched the world outside.
But Apple White was learning. She was becoming a better person—she was finally, finally starting to understand why Raven was so determined on finding an alternative to their predetermined happily ever afters.
Apple White was in love with Raven Queen. The future queen was in love with the witch that was destined to poison her.
But Apple wasn't willing to give up. She wanted to give Raven hope—something she had been denying her for months prior. She wanted Raven to find her own happiness outside of the Storybook of Legends and it's cruel fate. She was determined to keep Raven by her side until the end.
Apple vowed then and there, in Raven's arms, that she would no longer force herself to live in her mother's shadow. She would no longer force Raven into a fate that could easily get her killed or shunned for things that she didn't even want to do. She would push through their predetermined path and move above and beyond—she would not allow Raven to be treated like dirt lest she truly chooses to become her mother (which Apple so heavily doubted). She wanted Raven to smile like she did now and in the future to come, where she wouldn't have to live in fear of being outlawed or banished from her kingdom.
Apple White would make Raven Queen a queen to be loved and admired.
Apple White would make Raven Queen the prince charming that Apple's mother so desperately wanted her to have.
And all it would ever take was a rainy day, and a kiss on the cheek to lead them to their happily ever after.