Dark December | Frollo & Thumbelina
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Bitter air seared her fragile lungs. She never asked for a White Christmas. In fact, she had prayed it wouldn't snow at all tonight. She didn't like the cold. Where had the sun disappeared to? Why did it have to take her dear Prince? Why, if it were in her power to do so, she would banish this season from ever returning. The frost grabbed hold of her bones and pushed her as she struggled to remain upright. Small things like her shouldn't be outside at a time like this! This was why the flowers rotted away beneath the unforgiving ice. It dragged s p r i n g - t i m e into the depths by Persephone's ankles. She took with her everything Thumbelina loved-- daisy chains and forget-me-nots, apple pies and warmth, and abandoned the pitiful maiden on a stone cold ledge above the empty streets of Paris. There was nobody in sight. That was because even large humans couldn't stand the chilly temperatures. Of course, since they were so much bigger than she, they could survive the wonderland of Winter without a problem. Whereas the tiny human would probably die.
Finally she dropped to the ground and hugged her knees. Nobody was coming to save her. There were no more heroes around. She would be forgotten to freeze into a frostbitten statue. The singing swallow must have cast her into the oblivion of his mind. Her crystalline eyes trembled with tears as she gazed down at the golden ring bound to her finger. Cornelius. Ohh--- her Prince Cornelius. She remembered him so vividly, just like the summer sun, as if they were here just yesterday. His glittering eyes matched the green stone on her promise band. She could see him looking up, assuring her that everything would be okay and he would return to her soon.
That was wrong. This was the real world, where the truth clutched on to your heart like a cruel monster and mercilessly tore it apart. A storm flooded her while an earthquake shook her shoulders. Prince Cornelius was dead. Death meant he was gone. Gone forever!
But where do fairies go when they die?
She should have asked her mother.
Prince Cornelius was dead.
He was....
DEAD; and that meant--...
--he was never coming back.
But wait-- what was that? She could have sworn, she saw it flicker just over there by that lonely room. Even the mere glimpse of it curled her toes and prickled her skin. Slowly the welcoming glow filled the grey balcony. Someone was breathing life into the fireplace! Her minuscule legs stretched to stand, but her stiff muscles caused her to stumble over her own skirt and tragically tipped her over the edge. She screamed from the fall, but squeaked when landing on something gentle.
It was a ROSE in full bloom. It was the last of it's kind and browning around the edges, but somehow, it was managing to survive the conditions. Her palms stroked the petals as it gradually bowed it's head to the soil and allowed her to dismount. After a quiet 'thank you', she was off again. She clambered over the vase and hastened her steps toward the one thing she would do give up anything to have: that bright and warm light! The door's were wide open to her and she was more than willing to rush into the embrace of this stranger's chambers if it meant saving herself.
As she sprinted deeper and deeper into the room, she could hear the wood crackling. It whispered to her louder until suddenly it surrounded her. The broiling space nestled her in like a toasty blanket. She felt weak against it, but completely satisfied, and peacefully numb. The ice shattered from her skin and her round cheeks flushed. Embers continued to flicker and snap in her blurred vision. There was something about that sound that made her feel safe and s l e e p y. Her body melted into the rug as the hearth frightened away the cold and made nightmares disappear. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her lashes until eventually she succumbed and shut her eyes.
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