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anythingdrabbleTitle: Fairy Tales
Fandom: The 10th Kingdom
Characters/Pairings: OC, past Wolf/Virginia
Word Count: 500
Rating: G/K
Summary: Fairy tales don't exist... Do they?
She'd heard stories about the magical wishing well. She'd heard the tales about how it had once been stopped by another family, its magic completely used for their own gains. Although the Peeps had lost all standing in the town, when the well had begun to run dry again, they had been the first suspects, but their luck had been no better than anyone else's. They'd eventually been proved to be innocent the second time the well's magic had ceased, and they had been one of the first families to leave in search of better pastures. Few had remained behind, but even those who had had lost all hope in the well.
It had been rumored that the well had dried up because it had failed one of its wishers and, in its sorrow, had dried itself of all magic and water. It was said, too, that that person who it had failed had been a hero amongst his people, but that his people were beasts. The tales had made little sense, in truth, until one night when she'd been out searching for a lost lamb far too late and had happened across the well herself. There had been a man there underneath that full moon's shining light, but he had seemed no ordinary man.
He had been fussing nonstop at himself, scratching his ears as though he'd had fleas. He'd tried to coax her from the shadows when her lamb had bleated in fear, professing he'd do her no harm, but the shepherdess had listened to her lamb and fled. She'd heard his voice crying out after her as she'd ran, but he'd not given chase and had instead switched to lamenting and calling himself cruel names. If his words had been true, he hadn't blamed her for fleeing from him for no self-respecting woman wanted a wolf. Had not his first, and only true, love taught him that lesson quite painfully?
Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she'd snuck back to the well every full moon since. He was always there, always crying into the empty well and howling at the moon. His coat tails constantly flapped strangely about his buttocks, and it was a nice, firm buttocks he had indeed. She'd almost been tempted to believe, as his howls sent delightful chills sweeping through her, that the stories could be true and that he was the heroic Werewolf whom the well had disappointed.
But she knew better. Wolves and magic didn't exist. It was too bad really for, with that knowledge firmly in hand, she was afraid to approach him further no matter how much she'd like to ease his pain. Watching him every full moon night, she could not help aching for him, longing to see him happy. This Virginia he howled of had failed to do so, but she could. She could love him right, make him happy, except... True love, like wolves and magic wells, was only a fairy tale... Wasn't it?
The End
Fandom: The 10th Kingdom
Characters/Pairings: OC, past Wolf/Virginia
Word Count: 500
Rating: G/K
Summary: Fairy tales don't exist... Do they?
She'd heard stories about the magical wishing well. She'd heard the tales about how it had once been stopped by another family, its magic completely used for their own gains. Although the Peeps had lost all standing in the town, when the well had begun to run dry again, they had been the first suspects, but their luck had been no better than anyone else's. They'd eventually been proved to be innocent the second time the well's magic had ceased, and they had been one of the first families to leave in search of better pastures. Few had remained behind, but even those who had had lost all hope in the well.
It had been rumored that the well had dried up because it had failed one of its wishers and, in its sorrow, had dried itself of all magic and water. It was said, too, that that person who it had failed had been a hero amongst his people, but that his people were beasts. The tales had made little sense, in truth, until one night when she'd been out searching for a lost lamb far too late and had happened across the well herself. There had been a man there underneath that full moon's shining light, but he had seemed no ordinary man.
He had been fussing nonstop at himself, scratching his ears as though he'd had fleas. He'd tried to coax her from the shadows when her lamb had bleated in fear, professing he'd do her no harm, but the shepherdess had listened to her lamb and fled. She'd heard his voice crying out after her as she'd ran, but he'd not given chase and had instead switched to lamenting and calling himself cruel names. If his words had been true, he hadn't blamed her for fleeing from him for no self-respecting woman wanted a wolf. Had not his first, and only true, love taught him that lesson quite painfully?
Curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she'd snuck back to the well every full moon since. He was always there, always crying into the empty well and howling at the moon. His coat tails constantly flapped strangely about his buttocks, and it was a nice, firm buttocks he had indeed. She'd almost been tempted to believe, as his howls sent delightful chills sweeping through her, that the stories could be true and that he was the heroic Werewolf whom the well had disappointed.
But she knew better. Wolves and magic didn't exist. It was too bad really for, with that knowledge firmly in hand, she was afraid to approach him further no matter how much she'd like to ease his pain. Watching him every full moon night, she could not help aching for him, longing to see him happy. This Virginia he howled of had failed to do so, but she could. She could love him right, make him happy, except... True love, like wolves and magic wells, was only a fairy tale... Wasn't it?
The End
